The beast snarled, snapping it's jaws an inch from your head. You scream, (e/c) eyes widening. Trembling, you inch deeper into the hole. Then it starts to dig. Panting, you rush down the gopher hole, (h/l) (h/c) hair streaming behind you, dirt flying every which way as the Pomeranian hunts down it's quarry.

Then the tunnel stops, blocked by mounds of dirt. The gopher appeared to have blocked it off for obvious reasons. You plop down, giving up. The dog finishes it's dig and reaches in, clamping it's jaws around your body. Pulling you out, your (t/e) colour ears and tail hang limp and flat as you play dead. Then you wait. 

"TOBY! COME, THE GREAT PAPYRUS DEMANDS IT!"

The voice is loud, and the dog runs towards it immediately. Great. Human discovery. But then the dog drops you in front of a pair of enormous red boots. A loud "Nyeh?" emits from the general above area, and you're suddenly scooped up by a pair of red oven mitts.