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I have trouble staying awake during our shows, and I can have a good nap this way.”
    Great. He would have one cat on his shoulder, and another cat snoring on his back. It was so completely not what he would have expected to be doing tonight.
    â€œWe ready?” Cole asked.
    â€œPlay it, Sam,” Benjamin said, and a collective little chuckle rippled among the animals.
    When the opening theme for the show started playing, the Bad Hat was shocked that he recognized it.
    â€œWait, is that PBS?” he asked. “I don’t watch PBS, no way.”
    â€œShush,” Florence said. “It’s our favorite.”
    Oh, man, this was like one of his worst nightmares. Why couldn’t he have ended up in a shelter where the animals watched normal stuff like football? And rooted loudly for the Razorbacks—as every sensible being should? “But, that sounds like Masterpiece Classic ,” the Bad Hat said. “Can I please go back to my kennel?”
    Pico lifted her head to frown at him. “Mind your manners, Bad Hat. We look forward to this all day.”
    Great. What was next? Would they sit around doing algebra together? Baking cookies? Scrapbooking? Was this, like, an animal mental hospital? “But, PBS   ?” the dog said.
    â€œShhh!” about eight animals hissed in unison.
    â€œYou’re gonna love it, dude,” Lancelot said. “Kick back, and have some kibble.”
    Well, at least he liked kibble. The dog grumpily crunched some from the nearest dish.
    â€œAnd don’t be so fidgety,” Florence said. “It disturbs my equilibrium.”
    Fine. Whatever. He was definitely going to have to figure out a way to escape from this crazy place.
    Tonight , if possible.
    â€¢Â Â â€¢Â Â â€¢
    The Bad Hat planned to hate every single second of the show—but, okay, he loved it. Immediately.
    When the yellow Labrador Retriever made its first appearance, striding down the main staircase with some fancy guy, everyone cheered.
    â€œIsis!” Bert said happily, stopping chewing for a second.
    â€œPharaoh,” Benjamin corrected him. “Isis comes later.”
    â€œPharaoh!” Bert said, just as happily.
    Naturally, the yellow Lab was everyone’s favorite character.
    And even though he figured that he was losing outlaw coolness points by actually liking a show on public television, by the time they were halfway through thesecond episode, the Bad Hat was completely hooked. In fact, if he wasn’t careful, he was going to end up wasting time wishing that someone would give him a PBS tote bag to treasure and chew on, or something.
    Bert had fallen asleep almost immediately, but the dog was so caught up in the show, that he barely noticed the heavy weight on his back. In fact, when the rest of the animals decided to call it a night after the third episode, he was actually disappointed.
    The cats all seemed to be very good with their paws, and had no trouble opening and closing the kennel doors. That way, it would look as though they had all spent the night sleeping peacefully on their donated pet beds—instead of sneaking out and having their viewing party. But, the Bad Hat felt a little embarrassed for the canine species, in general, when they had to have the cats stand up on their hind legs and flip the latches for them.
    â€œSo, are you still lonely and grouchy?” Florence asked, as Benjamin slapped the metal fastener on the dog’s kennel into place, once he was inside.
    Was he? The Bad Hat had to think about that. “Yes. But, maybe not as much as I was before.”
    â€œIt’s a start,” Florence said. “Did you like the show?”
    Well, the dog had a little pride left, so he couldn’t admit that he had, um, maybe, possibly, enjoyed himself. “It was okay,” he said. “But, it would have been much better if there were some cowboys in it.”
    Benjamin laughed.