They never change their awful old clothes,€ whispered Lucky, and they never wash. I don’t think they are real humans, Father. Is there such a thing as a half-human?

Pongo could well believe it after seeing the Badduns, but he couldn’t imagine what their non-humans half was. It was no animal he had ever seen.

Have they ill-treated any of you?€ he asked anxiously.

No, they’re too frightened of being bitten,€ said Lucky. They’re terrible cowards. Some of the big pups did think of attacking them but there seemed no way of getting out. And if they’d killed the Badduns, there would have been no one to feed us. Oh, Father, how glad I am you’ve come!€

Pongo licked his son’s ear. Pups, like boys, do not like fathers to be too sentimental (mothers are different), but this was a very private moment.

Then they went and sat with Missis and the family. It seemed strange that they could all be so peaceful right in the enemy's camp. Gradually the Pongos' puppies fell asleep all except Lucky, Patch, and the Cadpig. Lucky was not sleepy. Patch was but stayed awake because the Cadpig was awake. And the Cadpig stayed awake because she was crazy about television.

Many of the big pups, too, were lying down to sleep, stretching luxuriously, feeling for the first time since they had been imprisoned in Hell Hall that there was someone they could rely on. Pongo had come! And Missis too. They had looked at her shyly, quite understanding that she must care for her own children first, but hoping she would have a little time for them later. Some of them could hardly remember their mothers. But the younger pups could remember theirs and they were not sleeping. Slowly, silently, they were inching their way towards Missis.

She had been watching the television, beginning to get the hang of it, with the Cadpig’s help. Then some tiny sound, close at hand, brought her attention back to her family. But the sound had not come from her family. There were now nearly thirty puppies, not so very much bigger than her own, just a few feet away, all staring at her hopefully.

Goodness, they’re grubby,€ was her first thought. Didn’t their mothers teach them to wash themselves?€