"Can we please hurry up? Because I had to fight that stupid cat, the back of my sweatshirt is now charred and it's freezing out here!" Snowball demanded, trying to stay warm. Glancing over his shoulder, Tattoo replied smoothly, "Snowball, in case you didn't notice at all, the traffic light is red. We must wait for it to turn green so we may cross safely."

"Between the two of you, I think Tattoo has more sense than you know what to do with Snowball. Think of this as being the only compliment from me you criminals will ever receive," a very familiar voice growled behind them. Whirling around, Snowball came face to face with Plato. "Oh, hey there chief..." Snowball mumbled, avoiding eye contact with the bloodhound.

"My hat!" a high pitched voice cried out suddenly. Facing forward again, Snowball and a half dozen other animals watched as a little puppy raced out onto the road on the other side of the street, chasing after a baseball cap. "Troy!" a female dog, presumably the mother, called out, trying to reach her son.

Just then, the light turned green and a taxi started moving forward...