“PACO, I WILL NEVER bow down to a human!” a mole shouted. A black Labrador sat up. “And why are you deciding the king for us? What do you think we are, sheep?”

“Hey, I take offense to that!” said an angry ewe beside him.

“Oh, sorry, Bethany.”

Paco appealed to them. “Alright, alright. We must have a civilized discussion.” The complaining increased. “Quiet down for a second so we can talk.” More whining.

Roscoe stomped out from behind Paco. “QUIET!! I think we owe it to Paco, and to King Pugsly, to hear what he has to say. We could all be killed in four nights!”

They knew Roscoe was right. There was a long silence before a goose spoke. “Okay, Paco. We’re listening.”

“Thank you,” Paco acknowledged. “The last couple of days have been hard on all of us. We’ve lost our king and with him our ability to coexist. Nature never intended for us all to live together in harmony, but up until yesterday we were doing just that.” He sighed. “Ever since King Pugsly died we’ve been fighting among ourselves. What was once a hall of peace and friendship is now a place of chaos. Roscoe was telling the truth. We will die if we don’t act quickly.”

“What do you propose we do?” asked a muskrat.

Paco hesitated for a second, cleared his throat, then spoke, “We go find Farangis and his army…and kill them.”

The audience gasped and yelped. “K-Kill F-F-Farangis?” a quivering jackrabbit asked. “Have you gone mad?!”

“How on earth do we do that? Nobody’s ever seen him!” a dachshund howled, his tail tucked between his legs.

“And do you plan on all of us having to do this, Paco? G-ggophers are a top choice on the snake menu,” said a nervous representative of that species.

Paco looked sympathetic. “I’d never ask that of you, Tubby, or any of you. But I do believe our king can lead us on this journey.”

“Our king is dead,” a skunk said sadly from the middle of a flock of chickens.

“He means the human, Vern,” a possum said.

“That little boy you call King Benjamin?” a Siamese cat asked sarcastically.

Paco spoke gently. “I remember the many long walks King Pugsly and I took in the cool of the morning. He spent hours telling me about the boy . . . how much the boy loved him, and, of course, how much he loved the boy. I heard many stories about the two of them. Their friendship was how it’s supposed to be between a pet and its owner.” Paco’s eyes singled out some faces in the crowd. “They had that bond that some of you always yearned for but never got. Our king trusted his master with all his heart. King Pugsly loved all of you, too, and never wanted to see any of you hurt.”

Some of the animals were visibly moved.