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Tex was there, on hands and knees, bent over the remnants of a small bush, and when I say remnants I do mean remnants: not a single leaf was left on that particular bush, and when I looked a little closer, I saw that there was not a single leaf left anywhere in that entire garden. And not a single flower either. It almost seemed as if some giant hand had come down overnight, and had rummaged around a little, destroying every living organism!

Well, not every organism, for the garden was completely infested with… snails.

I could see hundreds of them, perhaps even thousands, and they were still busy chewing on everything they could find, even blades of grass!

“My garden!” Tex howled. “They destroyed my garden!”

Marge had also descended from her room, clad in a nightgown, and stood eyeing the scene with a pensive expression on her face.

“So they came back,” said Chase, as he picked up a snail and studied it for a moment, then put it back, wiping his hand on his boxers.

Suddenly a window was thrown open upstairs, and Gran appeared.“What’s with the racket!” she demanded. “Do you know how hard it is to fall asleep at my age? Oh…” She’d also seen what had happened, and her face sort of sagged. “Oh, no,” she muttered. “Who did this!”

“Snails,” said Marge simply.

“Not those snails again!” said the old lady, shaking her fist. “I thought we got rid of those pests!”

“They came back,” said Tex, stating the obvious.

“Unless these are different snails,” said Dooley, and there was a certain logic in what he said.

Brutus and Harriet came trudging out of the house, jaws moving and the look of two contented cats who’d just eaten their fill on their faces.

“Oh, look,” said Brutus. “More snails.”

“I thought you got rid of them?” asked Harriet.

“We did get rid of them,” said Marge.

“I think it’s different ones,” Dooley intimated. “These are probably distant cousins twice removed, who decided to drop in for a visit.”

“And I think it’s the same ones,” I said, cause they were giving me the same cold-shoulder treatment as the ones last night had done.

Next door, two heads popped up over the hedge: they belonged to Ted and Marcie Trapper.

“Oh, my God,” said Ted. “What happened here, neighbor?”

“Snails,” said Tex curtly, his customary geniality a thing of the past. “They destroyed my garden.”

“Our garden,” Marge corrected him. “How about you, Ted? Did they also attack your plants?”

“No, over here everything is hunky-dory,” said Ted cheerfully. “And a good thing, too, otherwise I’d have to sue you, Tex.” He grinned. “Just kidding.”

“I don’t get it,” said Odelia. “Why do they keep coming back here? Why this particular garden?”

“Yeah, what’s so special about your garden?” asked Ted, scratching his scalp. “Are you spraying something, Tex? Or using some special fertilizer or something?”

Tex shook his head.“Just plenty of TLC,” he said brokenly. “And endless patience.”

“Pity Rupert isn’t here,” said Dooley. “He might know the answer.”

“Yeah, I don’t see him around,” I said. “And this lot isn’t talking, that’s for sure.”

“Like thieves in the night,” Harriet scoffed. “At least thieves have the decency to remove themselves from the scene of the crime.”

She was right. These snails were staying put, even though they’d already reduced the garden to a wasteland. So why weren’t they shifting?

“Could it be the blue moon?” asked Dooley.

“Could be,” I said. Though what the moon had to do with anything was beyond me.

There was a sort of commotion or scuffle when Tex had to be restrained by his wife and son-in-law.“So help me God I’m going to kill them all!” the usually mild-mannered doctor was screaming. “I’m going to dump a ton of pesticide on top of them!”

“No, Dad,” said Odelia. “Don’t do it.”

“Yeah, don’t do it, Tex,” said Ted. “That poison will seep into the ground and then my garden will also be affected.”

“Our garden,” said Marcie dryly, as she exchanged a look of understanding with Marge. Boys and their toys, that look seemed to say.

“Maybe this time we’ll consult a specialist,” said Marge, patting her disconsolate husband on the back. “And maybe he’ll be able to get rid of this pest.”

“See?” said Ted. “What did I tell you, Tex? We need to bring in a professional. It’s the only way to go.”

But Tex merely nodded, then slumped off in the direction of the house.

“Looks like those snails broke the camel’s back,” said Chase, shaking his head.

Dooley opened his mouth to speak, but I held up a paw. It wasn’t the right time to discuss the similarities between Tex and a camel.

CHAPTER 23

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Mel Corset proved most helpful, which probably was a given, since he’d made it his life’s work to help others by filling up their gas tanks and providing those little extras like clean windshields and oil to lubricate their engines.