PAW Patrol: Ryder's Errand

Chapter 1- I Can Cook, I Swear

Empty food bowls, the most agonizing thing for any dog to lay eyes on, especially Rubble. They didn't even need Skye to act the alarm clock this time; banging on the sheet metal doors of their kennels, Rubble's petrified screaming was awakening enough. Rocky grabbed a pillow and instinctively tried to smother himself back asleep, praying it would save him from the noise of a new day. Dozens of death threats came to life in Zuma's head, rummaging through whatever creative word he could throw at Rubble to make him shut up.

Chase awakened earlier but kept his eyes closed, hoping he could somehow get himself back asleep. The sleeping bundle of fur beside him was noticeably stirring as well, staring annoyed at the ceiling of Chase's kennel.

Knowing sleep was far in the past now, Chase sighed and looked to his partner. "Ugh... let's just get up."

Rocky almost went blind as the holy blast of the sun nearly took his eyes, making the grey mix grimace in agitation. Marshall was already awake, the Dalmation having a morning conversation with Skye as they were only two dogs even mildly friendly in the morning. All the dogs surfaced from their sleeping dens with hung expressions, crossing the clearing to join the breakfast circle. Chase stayed behind, spotting a taped note on the side of his kennel. With a faint frown of curiosity, the shepherd puppy approached it and squinted his eyes.

Shooting death glares at the scared bulldog, Zuma trudged over to him. "What are you screaming about, dude?" the Lab said deliriously.

"Empty!" Rubble whipped to face him, responding with the intensity of someone being shot. "Our food is empty!"

"Ryder just hasn't filled it yet, quit overreacting," Rocky said, coming over beside Zuma.

"That's not it! They're always full by now! Our breakfast is late!"

"Late?" Skye said from the kennel she stood on. "It's not like him to be fall behind like that."

Lowering himself in the grass, Rubble spoke in a shaky tone. "What if he's dead?"

"He's not dead, you idiot," Rocky put a paw to his face. "Probably just busy."

"Nope, not that," Chase called out, the sixth and final dog to join the circle. "I found a note on my kennel, Ryder's not late... he's out."

"Out where?" Zuma turned to him.

"Something about Jake in the mountains, had to go see him for some reason. But it's not an emergency, so he didn't wake any of us up. He somehow expects us to feed ourselves."

"Feed ourselves?" Rubble said, recoiling as if he heard the most offensive thing in the universe. "How? We can't even open stuff, we don't have thumbs!"

"I don't trust myself with a can opener," said Marshall, poking his nose into the conversation.

"Guys- okay everyone shut up," Chase held up his paw. "Ryder is gone, and we've been left alone. It's not the end of the world, no one is gonna die or starve. We are more than capable of fending for ourselves."

A bulldog eclipsed his vision, "so how are we gonna get fed, hm?"

"I guess we'll just... have to find something in the tower."

"I can cook!" Skye said, perking up.

Chase shot her a look, "no the hell you can't."

"Oh don't be like that, big guy," came the cockapoo's chirp, dancing her way over. "I watch plenty of cooking shows on TV," she looked right up at him with a confident expression. "In fact, I bet I can make something even better than our usual dog food!"