[pshrynk]

Vera sat in the small passenger lounge of the steamer. She had surreptitiously looked everywhere she could get to in search of her dog. She felt somewhat attached to the little guy. After all, most of her clothes would now permanently reek of disgruntled puppy. She wondered what had become of him.

Dr Montsnmags came in and sat down in front of her. "How are you... today, my dear?"

"I'm worried about Vivaldi. He just disappeared into thin air. I hope he didn't jump overboard. He didn't look like taht good a swimmer."

"I could paddle all the way home on a bet, toots."

"What?"

"I didn't say... anything," replied Montsnmags.

"Must have been my imagination, then."

"While you're at it, why don't you imagine getting me some bacon."

"Why would you want bacon, doctor?"

"I... don't. Not at this time... of night, anyway."

"We get into port tomorrow, right?" said Vera, trying to change the subject.

"Is that when I get my bacon?"

"Yes... we do. I must then... make arrangements to enter the tournament."

"Then I get my bacon?"

"Why are you asking me about bacon?"

"I"m... not. He... is." Dr Montsnmags pointed at the floor near Vera's feet.

She looked down. There was a small grey dog there. He perked his ears up and sat up, saying, "Whine whine!"

"Did he just talk?"

"Dogs don't talk. At least usually we don't. Er... Bark?"

"I must be going mad."

"There are thing we can... do to fix that."

"No thanks, I've got my own roadmap. Just one more thing... WHY THE HELL IS THAT DOG TALKING?!?!?"

"Because just hoping for bacon wasn't working. Sheesh!"