Sammy Joe was a cross little spaniel. He was such a jealous young dog. If somebody stroked another dog then he would yelp and howl until that dog was removed from his presence. He considered himself to be a king and insisted on people calling him the Little Lord.
One day he was sent to stay with his cousin Scout. She was a lively young pup who loved nothing better than stealing his favourite bone. "Oh Scouty", he would howl, "you are such a beastly brute."
It was a Sunday morning and outside the rain was pouring down. Sammy hated the rain. He hated getting wet. He would make Abby-Scarlet, the Norwegian forest cat who had worked as his personal assistant since the unfortunate trouser incident, carry a bright green umbrella over his head when ever the weather was inclement.
Unfortunately Sammy had a big outdoor party planned for the afternoon. He checked the forecast eagerly but it only said storms and more storms. What was he to do, the Little Lord was in a fury, all the local faces we're coming. There would be Dr. Finnegan, the finest owl doctor in all the land, Jonty Jules the most stylish of sheep who worked for a leading Paris fashion house, but worst of all the meanest cat in town was on the guest list. Non other than Moley Mullins. Moley Mullins was a tough feline, he was from the big city and had worked his way up from a mere spider chaser to being the head of the Coley academy for gifted animals. Moley was legendary for his vicious temper and was rumured to have once bitten the tail off a Labrador that couldn't pay his debts.
