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“But surely you don’t believe Brutus would actually try to be a dog,” I said. “That’s crazy. Or Harriet, for that matter. Harriet is without a doubt the most catty cat cat choir has ever been proud to call a member. And Brutus? We all know that Brutus is a cat’s cat.”

“Well spoken, Max!” Harriet called out.

“Max, I appreciate that you’re rooting for your friends,” said Kingman, “but I think it’s time we put this matter to a vote. All those in favor of expulsion, raise your paws, please.”

Plenty of paws went up.

“All those against?”

Exactly two paws were raised, and those were mine and Dooley’s.

“I think this makes matters perfectly clear,” said Shanille, who seemed to find particular pleasure in these proceedings. Then again, Shanille has never been a big fan of Harriet, and this was her chance to get even. “Harriet and Brutus—you are hereby expelled from cat choir. This decision is permanent, or at least until you have proven yourselves worthy of being called members of the cat community again, and have vowed never to run with the dogs!”

“I don’t evenwant to be a member of cat choir anymore!” said Brutus. “Dogs have more fun!” And with these words, he was off, and I just had a feeling I knew exactly where he was going, too.

And since I didn’t really feel like sticking around, I decided to follow my friends, and so did Dooley.

“Where are we going, Max?” asked Dooley.

“To the other side of the park, Dooley.”

“What’s on the other side of the park?”

“Dog choir,” I said with a smile.

“Oh, I remember! Nice!”

“Just for tonight, mind you. We can’t abandon cat choir forever. Also, we need to keep on pleading Brutus and Harriet’s case. Make them let our friends back into cat choir.”

“Do you think they’ll let them come back?”

“I think so,” I said. “Harriet is the best soprano cat choir has ever had, and Brutus has a very serviceable baritone. Without them, cat choir simply isn’t the same.”

We’d arrived on the other side of the park, and lo and behold: our friends Fifi and Rufus were there waiting for us, and so was Lil Ran, a large Irish Setter we met during a previous adventure. The three of them had initiated dog choir, figuring that it shouldn’t just be cats who get to hang out at night and have fun. Since dog choir’s inception they’d been joined by several more dogs, most of whom I didn’t know, since I don’t usually run in canine circles, and so now Harriet and Brutus were also going to join up.

“I’m officially requesting permission to join dog choir,” Brutus announced.

“What’s your name, friend?” asked Lil Ran.

“Rambo,” said Brutus.

“But, um… you’re a cat, Rambo.”

“I may look like a cat,” said Brutus, tilting his chin in a proud gesture, “but in my heart of hearts I’m really a dog, and have always been a dog.”

“Uh-huh,” said Lil Ran, clearly confused about this. “And how about you, sweetheart? Are you also a dog in a cat’s body?”

“No, I’m a cat,” said Harriet. “And proud to be one. But I’m also a cat who stands by her man. And if my precious angel decides he wants to be a dog, he has my full support.”

“Oh-kay,” said Lil Ran, looking even more confused. “Oh, hey, Max and Dooley,” he said, recognizing us. “Are you two also dogs now?”

“No, we’re still cats,” I said. “But we decided to keep an eye on Brutus. He’s going through a difficult time so he’s very vulnerable right now, and we don’t like leaving him alone.”

“No, I see your point. Brutus seems… confused.”

“So where do I sign up?” asked Brutus-slash-Rambo excitedly.

“You don’t really sign up,” said Rufus.

“We’re a very relaxed operation,” said Fifi. “We just hang out and shoot the breeze.”

“So who’s your conductor?” asked Harriet.

The dogs all shared glances.“Um… we don’t really have a conductor,” said Rufus.

“No conductor?” said Harriet, her eyes gleaming and her ears pricking up excitedly. “How about I’ll be your conductor from now on?”

“Um… well, sure. Why not?”

“Okay, gather round, you guys. The basses over there, the sopranos here, altos right here in front of me, and the tenors on the left. Now what kind of material have you been working with? Which compositions do you like to tackle? Which composers?”

“Um…”

“Oh, you guys!” She turned to me, eyes sparkling, and I could see what was happening. So I shook my head, but the train had already left the station. She clapped her paws. “You’re so lucky! I’m gonna turn dog choir into the best choir this town has ever seen! And then we’re going to compete with cat choir and we’re going to show Shanille what a real choir should sound like. Now for our first song I would like to suggest a simple thing—to warm up those vocal cords. It’s calledWho let the dogs out!”

“Oh, dear,” I said. And judging from the looks on Rufus and Fifi’s faces, this sudden takeover of dog choir by an ambitious cat like Harriet and a wannabe dog like Brutus wasn’t going down well. Who let the dogs out? Harriet did.

I decided to take a backseat, as I wasn’t really in the mood for any more trouble tonight, and when I glanced over my shoulder, who should I see but… Chase!