Badger the Mystical Mutt and the Barking Boogie by Lyn McNicol Page A

picked up the familiar scent of a freshly made toastie somewhere very close. Then, he heard the plinkety plonk tune of the local bakery van.
    â€œRight on time,” he smiled, as he untied his famous red-spotted neckerchief and spoke to it seriously.
    â€œâ€™Chief, I have a job for you. Float, float, float away. Find some toast to make my day. ”
    Badger sat back confidently and awaited his snack. ’Chief always came back with the goods and had never let him down yet.
    At the bottom of his garden, a pair of beautiful blue eyes peered brightly through the crack in the fence as Badger stretched out, licking his lips. The sun cast a shadow on his sundial showing a quarter to noon. Suddenly, his nose pinched, the smell was getting even more icky.
    â€œYuck! I hope ’Chief hurries back. I’ll have to finish the spell before noon or the Pong Police will close the lane.”
    Right on cue, ’Chief drifted over the fence and hovered above Badger’s nose.
    â€œY ummity yum yum yum, must get this toast into my tum, then my magic can be done! ” Badger drooled, feeling very pleased with himself. ’Chief wrapped itself back around his neck and knotted neatly.
    As Badger munched into the delicious cheese toastie, the blue eyes at the bottom of the garden widened and watched in wonder. The tiny dog that had been chasing Dodgy Dave and his gang skipped through the crack in the fence and marched up to Badger.

    â€œAhem!” she coughed slightly.
    Badger stopped mid-munch and looked around him, unable to see where the noise had come from, but the air reeked worse than before. He thought no more of it and finished the last bite of his toastie. It was time to get back to work on his spell.
    A loud prffffft sounded nearby. Badger looked around him again, but still couldn’t see what had caused the noise. He shook his head and got back to work.
    Shuffling the ingredients, he rubbed two small twigs together vigorously.
    â€œCharcoal rocks and mouldy old socks ,
    Cardamom seeds and corn that pops ,
    Mix up together in a cardboard box ,
    Take this stink and make it stop!”
    As the twigs sparked and the clock struck noon, he heard another cough, an even louder prffffft , a big bang … and everything went black.

Badger and the tiny dog looked at each other, blinking. They were covered in soot from head to toe.
    â€œWhat just happened?” choked the little dog, shaking the soot from her fur.
    â€œOh! I’m not quite sure. Something exploded.” Badger frowned, scratching his head. Then he noticed a wisp of smoke rise from the tiny dog’s bottom.

    â€œWhy were the twigs sparking?” asked the little dog.
    â€œI was perfecting my famous smell-removing spell, only it didn’t quite work,” said Badger raising an eyebrow. “Because, I suspect, some sort of windypops is connected with the sparks.”
    He untied his dirty neckerchief and held it over his nose.
    â€œAnd now the smell is worse now than before. Hang on …” said Badger leaning down to sniff the other dog. One sniff was more than enough.
    â€œIt’s you!” shouted Badger, stumbling backwards away from the stink. “You’re the cause of the unexplained foulness! That’s why the gang was running away from you.”
    The ball of fur next to him shook her bottom indignantly and waggled her tail.
    â€œIndeed it is not!”
    â€œWho are you anyway?” asked Badger more gently “I’ve not seen you in the lane before.”
    The small dog puffed out her chest and proudly announced, “I’m Cheryl with a C, that’s me, not Sheryl with an S, because Sheryl with an S goes ‘Ssssshhhh’, whilst Cheryl with a C goes ‘Ch’ … as in cha-cha-cha!”
    â€œAre you a Chiuhuaha?” he asked
    â€œI’m a sausage dog actually; a chipolata.”
    â€œI don’t think you’re a sausage dog, Cheryl, but you definitely