with a fence at the end, a dead-end.

A scruffy-looking mutt, grayish with long, darker-gray ears and thick eyebrows--and old-timer (Some of you know him as Sparky), was being cornered by a dog that seemed almost his age, perhaps younger.

Suddenly thunder boomed, and lightning lit the sky, revealing who it was.

Fang stopped, sliding around the corner, halting in a furious pose at the entrance to the alley. Rain poured down. His gang stood behind him, huddled but looking bolder by the minute.

Fang's heart leapt to his throat as the dog turned around.

Its eyes were pulsingly red-rimmed. It was black with white paws. A smushed-in face, wrinkled.

"Cudgeon!" Fang breathed like a mad bull, growling loudly.

The pitbull turned around, his breaths ragged, limping on one side of his body, a tooth jutting out from his lower jaw, his mouth open in a crazy grin.

"Who wants t'know?" the aging dog grinned as if insane.

"This mutt's got some serious mental issues," Skip muttered to Rose, who nodded.

"Fang?" Afghanna asked worriedly.

Fang's mind was in another place. All he could focus on was Cudgeon.

Cudgeon's one good eye squinted for a moment, then lit dimly with recognition. "I know you," he breathed raggedly. "Yer th'whelp. Ches'nut's tyke." Cudgeon rolled his shoulders. "I thought y'were long-dead, sonny boy," his voice was quiet, a rumble that would send chills down your spine.

"I'm pretty hard t'kill," Fang growled, voice hard, barely any emotion in the words. His gaze was held fast on Cudgeon.

"Yeah?" Cudgeon laughed a bellowing, raspy laugh. Foam bubbled at his muzzle.

"Fang," Rose whispered at his side, trembling but trying not to, "That dog has rabies."

"He's gonna have more than that when I get done with 'im," Fang breathed, voice low and furious.

"C'mere, little tyke," Cudgeon lumbered slowly toward them still limping, eyes glowing in the dark rain. "C'mere t'me, whelp, just a bit closer." He gave them another there-isn't-any-lights-on-upstairs grin. "Come find out what this fever feels like," he cackled roughly.

"Why did you do it?" Fang snarled, and he and Cudgeon began to circle around each other.

"Fang!" Rose exclaimed, shocked he would get so close. "He'll give you--"

"Shut up!" Fang snapped at her. He turned back to Cudgeon. "My 'rents're dead 'cuz o'you. Wanna tell me why, garbage breath?"

"Ihhahahahahahahahahaah!" Cudgeon laughed, sounding quite insane. More foam bubbled at his mouth. "Had t'do it, whelp, hadda kill 'em off!" he gave another crazy laugh. "One by one, kid, one by one! See, they thought I was one of them honorable strays!" He cackled. "I ain't about t'take the rap for the things I done! Bit a coupla kids, stole some food--" His eyes flashed crazily. "Gave some o' those lucky li'l House Pets this headache I got--an' a bunch more stuff along with it!" he panted, still cackling at every breath. Rose crouched next to Afghanna, afraid. Cudgeon went on. "Like this here stuff in my mouth!" he shook his head, making foam fly. "Come a li'l closer, you'll be bubblin' too!"

"Run, Fang!" Afghanna cried.

Fang ignored her. "You blamed them for what you did?" He jerked his head back. "Y'let the dogcatchers think they did all that stuff?" He bared his fangs. "That's sick!"

"I'm one sick pooch, kid," the pitbull snarled. His now-red eyes flashed.

Then he lunged.

Fang dodged him. "Get outta here!" he shouted to his faithful gang. "Scram, this's my fight!"

"Fang, you have no idea what rabies are like! You don't want to risk getting it!" Rose called out.

"How would you know?" Skip asked dryly.

Afghanna shot him a look. This wasn't the time.

Fang dodged Cudgeon some more. "Just leave! I ain't gettin' you all involved in this!"

"Who said you were in charge?" Afghanna shot back. She looked at Skip and Rose. "C'mon, guys, follow me!"

She leapt up a few crates and onto the building to the left's roof. "Pass me up that basket, Skip!" She called to where Skip and Rose stood on a crate just below her, rain pelting their fur.

Fang flung himself to the left, Cudgeon barely missing him with foaming, snapping jaws.

"Rose, Skip, you guys push this trash over the edge--aim for Cudgeon, not Fang! I'll be back." Afghanna snapped.

The two other pups did as they were told. Cudgeon didn't seem to mind the falling debris crashing onto him; it didn't faze him. He continued to bark loudly and lunge for Fang.

"Gettin' old, are we?" Fang snarled as he dodged the rabid pitbull.

"Shut up, whelp!" Cudgeon answered heavily, bolting for the pup again. Fang dodged. He nipped Cudgeon's paw, then darted a few feet away from him again. Cudgeon roared and howled and snapped at him again. Fang dodged.

BEEP BEEP!

Suddenly Afghanna appeared.

With a dogcatcher right behind her.

Fang realized her plan and ducked out of sight. It occured to him that he hadn't checked on Sparky since they'd arrived in the alley. He looked to the spot where the old dog had been. He wasn't there. At least he'd gotten away in time.

The dogcatcher had caught Cudgeon by the time Fang realized what was happening.

Staring at the pitbull through the cage door of the back of his truck, the dogcatcher rubbed his chin. "You're the rabid mutt we've been after, eh? Well, I think you'll find the pound very comfy, big fella." He whistled as he hopped back into the truck and drove away.

"Fang!" Rose squealed. She, Affy, and Skip were at his side. "You were so amazing!"

"Yeah, I know," Fang shrugged pridefully.

"What was that all about, anyway? Who was that?" Skip asked, curious.

"Such a long story, so little time t'tell it," Fang rolled his eyes. "Let's just get home, okay? The Park, by that old bush I showed ya? Deal?"

"I'm there." Afghanna nodded.

"Okay, sure," Rose bounced on her paws.

"I'm in." Skip grunted.

"Catcha later." Fang dipped his head to his gang.

"If you're sure you're okay..." Afghanna muttered as the gang walked away.

"When 'ave I ever been otherwise, Affy?" Fang teased.

When they left, he relished the rain on his pelt. Raining. Like so many nights and days and months before, when he'd lost the two most important dogs in his life. He wished he could have spent more of his days with them.

But then he wouldn't have had his gang. Yeah, Fang decided. It was okay how it was.

But he wouldn't forget his parents.

"Ah well," Fang sighed to himself, trotting along the streets. "Live an' let live."

So the King of the Streets returned to his gang, his Park, his home under that little bush in the sunshine and forests.