split seconds. It showed the dark, shadowed form of something else, a human standing in the doorway. The human held an object. Long, pole-like.

POW!

The sound radiated in Fang's ears.

His eyes popped open. He jolted awake. He was still on the front porch of the Darling house, but he could barely see a thing. The lights inside were off, so everything was dark.

"Haven't had that dream for a while, huh," Fang panted quietly to himself.

A twig snapped in the yard. Fang's head raised. What was that? A bird? Had to be. He lay his head down again.

"Shhh!"

Fang's ears leaped up on his head. He sat up. A voice. Human? Canine? He couldn't tell.

"Stow it, y'nitwit, or you'll get us both arrested!" A British voice said somewhere in the darkness.

"I am stowin' it, bagel-breath, but if'n you keep on doggin' me, I've a mind to--" Sounded another British voice, breaking off as the first one interrupted.

"Sshhh, be still, mate, an' follow my lead."

Fang stood now, paws splayed firmly. Humans. They were coming his way.

Two black-cloaked figures, one skinny and another big, masked, were creeping up the porch. Fang let out a low growl.

The figures froze. They both turned slowly and squinted in the dark.

"Hey, er, Tim, m'lad, izzat a dog?" The skinny one asked. He licked his lips anxiously.

"Aye, mate, looks like it. What d'we do, Horace?" The fat one replied nervously.

"Can't see it quite right innis light, hoi? Or lack of it. Er, ah, light th'lantern, we'll see." The skinny human ordered briefly.

Fang lowered his eyebrows. Whadda they want?

A light suddenly blazed in a lantern the fatter one was carrying. The porch was lit up, but only a circled portion of it. Fang squinted against the light, backing up--staggering, really--two steps before opening his eyes wider as they adjusted and taking in the humans' positions.

The skinny one, still whispering, cackled softly. "Aw, come off it, it's just a li'l one!"

Fang growled loudly. The cackling ceased.

"Li'l or not, Timmy m'boy, we'll 'ave t'dispose of it." The skinny one, Horace, began advancing on Fang. He beckoned the Golden Retriever pup with a finger. "'Ere, puppy, puppy," he crooned in a somewhat creepy voice.

Tim, the  big one, joined his partner in creeping forward.

Fang crouched, corner of his mouth bared, showing his famous fangs. "Yeah, I'll give ya yer 'puppy puppy'. C'mere yerself, bonebag."

Of course, the two oafs couldn't understand him, only hearing more growling.

Fang tested his injured leg. It wasn't casted up any longer, so--this being the end of the week since he broke it--it had been healing nicely and was in working order. It worked almost as well as before he'd saved Angel in the alley. It was a little stiff, that was all.

What ever these goons're up to, it ain't gonna be pretty when they try t'get into the house. Fang smirked. I ain't givin' 'em an invitation inside, so I oughta personally through 'em out.

"Hey, boys," he sneered, knowing they couldn't understand him, "Lemme show y'the door."

The two robbers crept up on him still, now Horace was holding a big, cotton sack. Fang guessed what he planned to do with it.

They lunged for him.

Fang sidestepped out of the way. "The door--"

Horace fell on his stomach. Tim leaped for Fang. Fang sprang over Horace and slid away from Tim. The overweight burglar toppled sideways over Horace, grunting.

"--it's that thing with the handle. Back away from it an' scram!" Fang finished. He grinned widely. This Street Pup still had some moves left in him.

"Grab 'im, Tim, don' lettim git away!" Horace shrieked. They both scrambled to get up.

Fang snapped a their ankles, sliding away from them before they knew it, and making them trip. A thought burst into his head: Make as much noise as y'can, Fangster!

 He barked, over and over. Howled. Growled and snarled, jumped up and down. Tim let out a gasp and glanced at Horace, who turned and began making a mad dash for the stairs of the porch, desperate to get out before they were caught. Fang grabbed a hold of Tim's pant legs, growling and tugging until the man kicked at him enough to fall forward, slamming chest-first onto the sidewalk of the yard. Horace followed suit, stumbling over his partner and free-falling backward, hitting his head on the bannister of the porch and slumping, unconscious, to the grass.

Fang grinned even more. Then he turned to the door of the house and howled. "Yo, calling all House Pets! Calling all House Pets! This ain't a drill, Kennel Club, repeat, this ain't a drill! Report t'the porch immediately! Report t'the porch immediately, heh-heh!" He smiled as he barked, tongue hanging out.

A light flickered on in the window. Then another. And another. The whole house lit up, and Fang heard Jim Dear's voice as he shouted, "What's going on out there?"

Seonds the later the whole household emerged onto the front porch, humans as well as dogs. Darling flung a hand up to her mouth and instantly cried, "I'll call the police!"

Jim Dear examined the unconscious robbers and turned to Fang. He reached down and scratched him behind the ears. "Good job, Fang, good dog!"

Angel and Scamp, along with Annette, Danielle, and Collette, all sidled over to him, grinning broadly.

"You beat them?" Scamp asked, raising his eyebrows, tail wagging. "On your own?"

"How is that possible?" Angel asked, half-laughing.

Fang shrugged. "When y'got it, y'got it."

"Tell us how it happened!" Collette begged.

"Oh, yes, please tell us!" Annette added.

Danielle nodded, tail wagging and rapid-fire speed.

Fang blinked, then murmured, "Ah, later," he chuckled nervously, then edged away.

Angel and Scamp met him, side-by-side, smiling with their eyelids lowered.

"Listen, uh..." Fang cleared his throat. "Leg's feeling fine now, an' uh, I gotta...y'know. I'll jus' be goin'."

Angel's smile wilted. "You're...leaving?"

 "What, how come?" Scamp asked, looking worried. "If it's, er, about what I said--"

Angel glanced his way but didn't comment.

Fang began backing away. "Nah, nah, it ain't like that. I just..." He sighed. "Look, I'll never belong here. Hey, the gang needs a leader, and the cushy-pillow life ain't for a rogue like me."
 

Jim Dear sidled back out into the yard, joining the dogs. "Well, I think the police will be here any minute, dogs." He knelt down in front of Fang, smiling beneath his brown mustache. "Looks like you'll become a town hero, huh, boy?" He reached his hand out to stroke Fang's head.

Fang backed away, crouching. Jim Dear's affections didn't belong to him anymore. He was a Street Dog again.

Jim Dear blinked, confused. Then his eyes cleared and he pulled his arm back. "We'll miss you, pal." He understood. If any human could speak dog in the near future, Jim Dear would be the first.

Fang drew himself up, edging along the grass toward the gate.

Darling emerged from the house with Lady and Tramp, Junior in her arms. The whole family huddled in a group in front of the house, looking at him with loving eyes. Family. He could've had it all.

But he didn't need it. He wouldn't forget them easily. What a family!

A large smile bloomed on Fang's muzzle, eyes sparkling with the old mischief as his eyelids lowered. He walked toward the hole in the fence, every step like a bob to an invisible beat that no one but the Golden Retriever could hear.

"Stay out of trouble, will you?" Scamp called, grinning.

"Can't promise anythin', Chew-Toy." Fang winked at him.

"Come back and visit, dear," Lady smiled sweetly.

"He promised to tell us about the burglars!" Annette whined. Collette agreed, glancing at Fang with large, sad eyes. Danielle looked at Fang, then to her sisters, and back.

"Hey-hey, I'll be back, don' worry. Lotsa moves t'show you gals b'fore y'get 'em right." Fang called to them.

"Take care of yourself, champ." The Tramp barked. "If you don't know what it is," he lowered his own eyelids and winked. "Don't eat it."

"Check." Fang nodded.

Angel darted forward until she stood in front of Fang. Slowly she brushed her head against his and nuzzled him. "Sure you can't reconsider?" she murmured.

His fur tingled. He ignored it, heart aching. He glanced at Scamp, who watched without any emotion showing.

Fang looked into Angel's conflower-blue eyes. "I'll visit, doll, but I ain't comin' back for keeps. But, ah," he turned around, digging into the ground and pulling out his red collar. "Y'can keep this."

Angel stared at it as he dropped it at her paws. "Really?"

"Hey, it ain't like I'm gonna use it again." Fang shrugged.

Finally, he ducked underneath the fence, poking his head back in as he was on the outside now. "Freedom's callin'." He winked.

Angel trotted prettily back to Scamp's side and the Darling family looked on.

"He certainly makes an exit,"