Poochanne not Batman

         Poochanne looked up to the sky. Her one good eye made out the bat signal barely visible against the bright lights. With some difficulty she heaved herself up; she hated having to leave one of her naps, but somewhere someone needed help. She weaved her way through the throngs of people at the barbecue as she searched for Bobin, her stuffed pig sidekick.

         “Well Bobin, the world needs us again. To the Pooch-Mobile!” Poochanne picked up a sock on the way out; they always came in handy. Poochanne steered the Pooch-Mobile to the Police station.

         “Welcome...Batman?” the officer faltered as he saw Poochanne step out of the Pooch-Mobile. Poochanne was used to this reaction.

         “Actually, it’s Poochanne, not Batman.”

         “I...erm–“

         ”Was expecting a man in a black-caped costume and not a German Shepard puppy?” Poochanne offered at the officer’s stupor. “I get that a lot. Might I mention that I’m not a puppy? I’m a thirteen year old terrier/Chihuahua mix.”

         “But...um–“

         ”How did I get this job? Batman retired to New Jersey; he was my previous owner. I took this job when he retired and they never got around to changing the signal.” Poochanne looked reproachfully at the officer as she said this. With a jerk, the officer recovered his wits.

         “There’s trouble in New York. A recent string of robberies baffles the police; stop it. Here’s the info–“ The officer looked down where Poochanne was, but she wasn’t there. She had already left.


         “Here I come to save the day!” Poochanne sang as the Pooch-Mobile sailed through the air. “In New York,” she added as the information finished downloading to the Pooch-Mobile's computer. “Says here, someone’s been robbing technology like microchips and stuff. I’d prefer chocolate flavored yogurt drops." Poochanne looked at Bobin as she spoke. “That’s the spirit Bobin!” Poochanne stuck her head out the window and let Bobin “drive”.

         The Pooch-Mobile landed on the roof of the Techno Tech building. Poochanne climbed out and double checked the map.

         “According to the pattern, the next robbery should be here.” Poochanne sniffed the floor. “Smells like a whole hockey team was here,” she remarked to Bobin, puzzled. She followed the scent to a door that led into the building. The door was closed, so Poochanne called for Bobin to bring the sock. Bobin didn’t come.

         “Bobin, what are you doing?” Poochanne called as she walked back to the Pooch-Mobile. She found Bobin asleep at the wheel. She grabbed the sock herself and hit Bobin with it on her way out; Bobin didn’t stir.

         Poochanne returned to the door. She threw the sock over the handle and then pulled down on the ends as she pushed against the door. The door opened and Poochanne dropped to the floor. She ran in and down the stairs.

         “Na na na na na na na na. Na na na na na na na na. Pooch-Anne!” she sang to the tune of the old Batman song as she ran down a corridor, hot on the robber’s track. Her nails made a soft clicking sound as she ran. She turned a corner and saw a light at the end of the hall. “Better investigate it.”

         Poochanne slowed to a crawl and crept up to the doorway. She found Bobin already there.

         “How’d you get here? Trying to make me look bad?” Bobin didn’t move. Poochanne gave Bobin a look, then turned her attention to the inside of the room. Inside, a bunch of men were gathered around one who was tied to a chair. “Better act quick.” Poochanne prepared to run in, but she tripped over Bobin.

         “What’s the deal, Bobin?” Bobin didn’t say anything, but a flashlight lay at his feet. “Great idea!” Poochanne walked in front of the doorway and then turned on the flashlight. Her ears stood out, and as she stepped into the room, her head blocked the light from the flashlight creating a shadow on the wall that looked like a bat.

         “Batman,” one of the stunned men stammered out. The rest cringed and turned fear filled eyes on one another. One, apparently the leader, moved to the front of the group. His hand covered his eyes as he stepped into the flashlight’s path. Poochanne began to bark. The men regained their “cool” as they heard a dog’s bark, but some still seemed nervous as it sounded like a rather large dog.

         “Aaah, a cute little German Shepard puppy,” the man cooed when his eyes adjusted enough for him to see Poochanne. The rest of the men snickered and teased each other over who was the most scared. That allowed Poochanne to get her first good look at the men. Her eye that could see scanned the men. They were all athletic except the one tied to the chair. The athletic ones looked familiar. “Come here, boy.” The leader’s saccrin voice reminded Poochanne of her mission.

         “Actually, I’m a thirteen year old female terrier/Chihuahua mix, and it’s Poochanne, not Batman.”

         “Pardon me, Mam. You’re a senior citizen, not a child” the leader said, his voice dripping sarcasm. The other men snickered at their leader’s joke. Poochanne ignored them.

         “Let the man go.”

         “How do you plan on making me? You barely reach my knee, if that.” The rest of the men muttered their agreement. Poochanne’s answer was a low growl. The men began to get nervous. Poochanne advanced as she growled, her head lowered, ready to bite. The men backed away from her.

         “You won’t catch me so easily!” The leader pressed a button and then jumped out the window; the rest of the men followed.

         “Curses!” Poochanne chased them to the window, but she only managed to bite one of them. She bit his leg as hard as she could. He squealed but made it out the window before she could capture him with the sock. Dejectedly, Poochanne turned around and untied the man.

         “Thank you, little dog!” the man gushed. He went on about how the men were trying to force him to tell them the secret to technology that would allow them to make things hover and move at their will from a remote control. Poochanne ignored him. She skulked out of the room, picked Bobin up at the door, and returned home where she immediately took a nap.

Later...

         Poochanne was watching hockey with her owner in their home. It was the New Jersey Devils verses the New York Islanders. The camera zoomed in on one player on the New York Islanders’ team; it was the leader of the group of men. A deep growl came out of Poochanne’s throat.