“Right there, in the unmarked grave next to Spiffy in the pet cemetery.”

Toucan looked up at Blanket. “You’re sure he said that’s where the food was buried?” he said, fluttering his wings.

“That’s right,” Blanket said. “Remember what I said earlier, about there being two kinds of pets in this world? The ones who fly and the ones who dig?”

Scratching at the ground weakly, Toucan looked up at Blanket. “You can’t expect me to dig it up all by myself, can you?”

“I reckon I could give you a hand,” the dog said. “In exchange for a cut of the food.”

“Not so fast, boys.” It was Angel, looking very much worse for wear after her escape from the vet. “That food? It belongs to me.” She hissed and arched her back, claws ready.

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