The Dog Squad

dog barking ever again!” Plus he has blond, greasy hair parted in the center, so his head looks like a BUTT.
“I am not saying that Brendan DEFINITELY is a bad guy, who is stealing all the dogs,” I say to Cat. “But I am definitely saying he looks like a big BUTTHEAD, and I suspect him.”
“Fair enough,” she says. “But you’d better get EVIDENCE before you accuse him.”
She now pushes me into my house. I climb out of the chariot.
“I can see his apartment from my window,” I tell her. “I’ll watch it!”
“You do that!” she says.
“Don’t you want to spy on him with me?” I ask.
“I don’t think your mom is that keen on me just now,” she says. “So I’d better go home.”
And she does.
Wilkins leaves too. He doesn’t even bother going to the living room to pull the blind. He just shoots up the stairs.
By the time I get into the room he’s already in position.
He is looking out, like the captain of an old-style ship staring at the horizon.
“Captain Wilkins,” I say, “do you mind if I join you?”
He shuffles over to make room. He then looks out of the window. I look out of the window.
And THAT is how the Great Stakeout starts.

CHAPTER FOUR The Great Stakeout
By the way, the Great Stakeout is NOT a great juicy steak that gets left out. A stakeout is when detectives watch something or someone, to gather EVIDENCE.
The first thing that happens—at 12:52 p.m.—is we see Mrs. Crompton’s cats come into our garden. They scratch their claws on our tree house tree. Wilkins goes rrrrrr.
Then I look into the bathroom window of my archenemy Michael Beard, who lives three doors down. He is dancing around in his underpants looking like an idiot. I laugh. That’s at 12:54 p.m.
Then at 1:06 p.m., I see Dale and Shaza coming back. He is holding a black coat. I remember the dog thief had a black coat. Interesting, I’m thinking. Very, very interesting.
Then I see Brendan “the Butthead” O’Gooley leaving the house. He is quite literally HOLDING A DOG CAGE!! He is so obviously the thief! Why does no one STOP him?
Then we see nothing for quite a while. (And that includes my so-called Accomplice, Cassidy. I’m thinking: Where the HECK is she?)
Then—at 2:06 p.m.—she comes out of her house. She jumps up on her wall, and she just stands there, looking like a tightrope walker.
And about one second after that, Rupert Beard (Michael Beard’s even more annoying brother) goes by. The Beards both want to be jockeys. They’re both tiny, and they’re such show-offs. Rupert Beard is on a bike—making it rear up like a horse and he’s fully dressed—head to foot—in brand-new jockey clothes.
“Hey, Catty-Cat Callaghan!” he calls. “Do you like my new bike?”
“Yes,” says Cassidy. “And I like your hat!”
“Have it!” he says, and Frisbees it at her. So now cannonballs are booming in my head. I’m thinking: How come he’s got so much money that he’s got a new bike and he’s giving out hats? I’m thinking: Cat Callaghan is MY name for her! (How come HE’s using it?)
But then, as Rupert Beard swoops round the corner into Jay Byrne Road (still on one wheel), someone is coming the other way, and it is . . .
Mrs. Matringham, the “Dog Lady.”
She is an enormous woman, who has a pack of SIX dogs. She LOVES them. She has named them all after celebrities.
Her last two (short-haired Yorkshire terriers) are Nicki Minaj and Ed Sheeran.
Ed Sheeran is a little ginger dog. He’s got beady eyes. He can see a cat across the street, and he charges out.
Rupert Beard has to swerve.
But prime suspect Brendan O’Gooley is just arriving in his van and Beard smacks into the side.
Brendan slams on his brakes, and leaps out. Everyone SCRAMBLES. I can’t believe it. He clears the street in one second.
“I don’t know what YOU’RE looking at!” he screams, suddenly turning to me.
TERRIFIED, I shut the window so fast I bop Wilkins on his nose. He does a fart that smells of garlic, then falls to the floor.
I’ve shut the window just in time. Two seconds later, Mom comes in.
“Rory Branagan,” she says, “what are you doing?”
I play it cool. “Oh,” I say, “I’ve just been reading about Napoleon.”
I pat the book, as if we’re old friends.
“Have you?” says Mom.
“Yes,” I tell her. “Cover to cover.”
Mom shows me a page for about 0.4 seconds.
“So what was that part about?” she asks.
“It’s about Napoleon’s tactics in battle,” I tell her.
“Go on then,” she says. “Tell me about his tactics in battle.”
“Well,” I say (and I’m trying to remember), “there is Attack from the Flanks (when Napoleon would attack from the flanks). And there is Looting and Pillaging (when he would take the enemies’ stuff). And there’s Guerrilla Attacks, which is when he would send in gorillas (because sometimes he’d come to a big castle, and soldiers couldn’t get in, but gorillas could, or even monkeys) . . .”
“Send in the monkeys!”
“RORY!” shouts Mom. “It’s ‘Guerrilla Attack,’ not ‘Gorilla Attack.’ That is where troops hide and then they leap out and fight, and then they hide again. Don’t just make things up: you need to understand! Your imagination will get you into a lot of trouble one of these days!”
With that, she pulls the curtains SHUT.
“And if I find out you’ve been doing anymore staring out of that window,” she says, “it’ll be boarded up.”


CHAPTER FIVE Paperwork
After that my mom’s