Kay, I couldn't resist this, I have wanted to see Holmes and Watson's reactions to so many different characters I decided to go for it, and besides KCS thought it was a good idea so that was enough of a reason.

This is the first of many, and I am open to suggestions, though I cannot garuntee that I can or will use them all.

Hope you enjoy it, done with the sole purpose to amuse.

-PGF

"Watson, would you give that blasted dog something to gnaw on?" Sherlock Holmes grumbled from the depths of his armchair, where he was perched like some obscene stork, his long legs drawn up to his chest and his violin hanging limply from his hand. His brows were drawn down in a dark line, like a head of storm clouds as he glared at his flatmate.

The long-suffering Doctor sighed, his head resting on his hand, elbow's on his desk.

"You mean besides your violin?"

Holmes' glare darkened and he pulled the beloved insturment to safety in his lap.

"Watson I must be able to think to solve this case by Friday as I promised his lordship, and I cannot think when Toby is making that racket!" the detective's voice rose shrilly with each word.

"Oh very well," Watson said irritably, tossing his pen onto the half completed page of his notebook. "Though I don't recall you complaining earlier when he was tracking down your contact."

The Doctor crossed the room to the door where Toby was crouched, sniffling and worrying at the base of the door.

Watson bent and scratched behind his ears. "What is it old chap eh? What's the matter?"

Toby turned to fix a beseeching stare on the doctor. He whined and licked at his hand before crouching and wriggling, letting out little sounds of distress.

"Watson, please!" Holmes, made invisible behind the back of his armchair, groaned loudly.

The Doctor frowned, and went to the table taking his dinner plate and set it on the ground.

"Toby, here lad." He said softly, whistling and snapping his fingers.

The dog sent him another distressed look, before turning back to the door and ignoring him completely.

Understanding lit the kindly hazel eyes, and the fair brows rose. "Ah…that's all it is eh? Sorry old man, just a moment."

He turned to the sideboard, collected the dog's lead and knelt beside the troubled beast, clipping it onto his collar.

"I'll be back in a moment Holmes," he said, collecting his hat and jacket.

Holmes grunted, already lost in thought as he lit puffed on his pipe.

Watson turned the knob of the door, unaware of how Toby had tensed at his feet as though in preparation for a 50-yard dash.

The instant the door opened the dog sped forward, yanking Watson off balance. The Doctor grunted and only just kept hold of the lead, stumbling down the stairs after the animal at incredible speed.

"Toby, hold on there, slow down boy!"

He didn't, only seemed to gain in speed as he reached the bottom of the seventeen steps and bolted to the front door in his odd waddling gallop.

Watson lost his footing, scrambled to his feet, and hurried to open the door, lest the poor dog make a puddle on Mrs. Hudson's front carpet.

The night was clear, and the stars, what could be seen of them through the smog, shone like distant jewels in the velvet sky.

Once outside Toby stopped on the stoop and turned his head, ears pricked, allowing the Doctor to catch his breath. Only then did he notice the unusual amount of barking that filled the air above London, echoing along the ancient streets and causing many of the cities occupants to complain as loudly as the canines.

Watson only had time to puzzle over this oddity when Toby himself raised his head and let out a long howl, his voice rising to meet the best of them.

"Toby, be quiet." Watson said, giving the lead a tug.

Toby ignored him, cocking his head again and let out a series of barks and yelps.

"Toby, stop that!"

"Rowr! Arowr! Rooooooowr!"

"Toby!"

His words had no effect, and only a moment passed before, Toby jerked sharply on the lead, pulling the Doctor off balance again.

Watson gasped, struggled to hold on, then felt the lead slip from his fingers.

"Toby!"

But the dog was gone, disappearing rapidly into the twilight, his lead flailing behind him like a banner, and Watson could only trot a short ways after him before he lost sight of him completely.

He stood, absently rubbing his right leg, and flinching as another series of barks rang through the streets.

I loped along at moderate speed, air and ears raised to the air to catch the sounds of the twilight bark and any scent that might come my way.

Cab, Horse, Tree, Fire, Tavern, whiskey, too many sweaty humans crowded into one room.

I stopped for a moment in the light of the pub, my ears twitching at the sounds of singing and boisterous laughter.

It was much easier without the Doctor at my heels, not that I didn't want him along, he was quite sensible for a human and had some very good qualities, but it was always so hard to convince any of the two-legs that I knew the right way. Not to mention the Doctor's leg, which I could tell had been paining him from the smells of distress and discomfort that I had smelled on the man since early evening.

No, it was better for all concerned that I take this case alone…now if only I could find the right clue.

I got to my feet again, sniffing the wet pavement in front of the pub door, my ridiculous lead trailing behind me as I cast about for the right sent.

Cigarettes, some cheap and some more expensive, various liquors, and an unending series of unwashed men had passed this way, but there was no sign of the particular two for which I was hoping.

Hmm, I crossed to the other side of the door, sniffing along the base of barrel which stood there, taking in wood, and oil, and…ah…there they were at last! Two of them, both smelled as though they hadn't washed in days, covered in cheap wine, sandwiches and more importantly puppies, numerous puppies, too many for my count.

I followed the scent, picking it out from the numerous others and traced it right up to the peeling wood of the pub door. I pulled back, grimacing and huffing as I was overwhelmed by the stink.

So they had gone in the pub then…did that mean the game was up did they have the puppies again already?

No, for even as I stood at the door, I heard approaching footsteps and their scents grew strong again, I only just had time to scramble backward and hide behind the barrel before the door opened and they staggered out, one absurdly tall and thin…almost as silly looking as Holmes himself, and another stout and short. Both were freshly covered in whiskey.

"There now, I feel better Jasper." The fat one said, still clutching a mug and grinning up at his mate as he swayed drunkenly.

"Right you are Horace, nothin' a little bit-o-rum couldn' fix. Pull yourself together though, we got a job ta do."

The fat one saluted and they staggered up the street towards my hiding place.

As they passed they passed, the stout one caught sight of me, and peered at me blearily, his scent taking on a sharp edge of excitement.

"Look'ee here Jasper, here's one already!"

He reached out towards me, and I backed up, growling low. His mate gave him a sharp rap on the skull.

"Don't be daft you idiot, that's just some mutt. Let's go we're wastin' time."

He dragged his companion off, ignoring the loud complaints that ensued.

I stood, sniffing after them for a few moments, then turned round as a familiar yelp reached my ears.

"Over here." The voice was soft and stealthy, with a distinctive England accent of the middle class.

I sniffed my way over to the narrow alley beside the pub and he came out from behind a much battered box.

He was dalmation, no doubt of it, though that was difficult to ascertain as he was covered from nose to tail in thick soot that masked his scent.

He looked haggard, and stood on tired legs that quivered as though they would very much like to give out beneath him, His scent spoke of hardship and stress and little sleep and was bitter with worry.

"Toby…" he growled softly, "Are you Toby?"

I came forward slowly so as not to startle the poor fellow.

"You got my message then." I answered, allowing him to sniff me over. He visibly relaxed when he sensed my motive.

The well-known Pongo sighed tiredly. "Yes, we arrived just in time for the twilight bark. But we're still some ways from our pets, we'll never reach them without being found out."

"I have heard some of your troubles, and much of the original affair, I have to say you might have saved yourself a great deal of trouble if you went to my pets instead of ScotlandYard.

"I know it," Pongo said, "Only my pets thought differently."

"Well, never mind old chap, I have a place you can stay. My pets are well-trained, the Doctor would never turn you out, and he has Holmes under control most of the time, that is when Holmes is not acting like a six-week old who's just discovered pork-links."

Pongo went nearly limp with relief. "Thank heavens."

"Are you all here?" I asked, raising my head and catching other scents, similar to his own.

"Yes," He said, leading me back to the alley, where I caught sight of a very attractive female who could only be his mate, and a horde of puppies beyond…good heavens…there were a lot of them weren't there.

The female tensed slightly, as I approached, her eyes as wary and as weary as her mates.

Pongo went to her and licked her face softly, "It's alright my dear, he's here to help, he knows someone who can sort this whole mess out."

I lowered my head politely, allowing the delicate creature to sniff me hesitantly.

"Mrs. Pongo." I said, "Happy to be of service"

I had perhaps overestimated my poor pets, for their scents indicated acute surprise when the horde of soot-covered puppies sped through the door of the sitting room, followed closely by the Pongo's and myself.

The Doctor leapt back from the door and Holmes let out a yelp, leaping up onto his untidy desk. I grinned happily, they were only part-time pets, and quite funny in their ways, but they were also very amusing and so very cute.

"Watson! What the blazes!?"

The detective's scent indicated outrage as well as surprise now as he recovered from the shock. Poor Watson was thunderstruck and quite speechless.

"Holmes," he murmured quietly, his eyes roaming the mass of wriggling black bodies (I was glad I had made them go before we came in) "They're everywhere."

Holmes scowled. "You're telling me Watson." he looked over to his armchair and yelped again attempting to dive forward as one of the puppies rooted in his tobacco slipper.

Instead he disappeared beneath the ocean of fur and spluttered and yelped as dozens of warm little tongues and wet noses inspected him.

Watson laughed, his shock breaking at last, though he still viewed the group with some asperity, he looked them over and inevitably his eyes fell on me.

"Toby, what on earth!"

I would have explained, but there was no time for it, and they never listened to me anyhow. I pushed my way through the excitedly chattering young ones to the window, barking sharply to let them know of the urgency.

Perhaps it was the fact that he was too shocked to be surprised of anything any longer but the good Doctor followed me to the window and looked out into the darkness.

"I say Holmes," he said, "There is the most unusual woman coming up the street."

Holmes staggered free of the dogs and joined us at the window, straightening his cravat and brushing ineffectively at his coat. His scent radiated annoyance.

It changed a moment later though, to intense curiosity.

"I don't like it Watson, she has been in some trouble, look at the state of her coat…and the two ruffians with her." His nose, which had always reminded me of a birds wrinkled with distaste.

"What sort of woman wears that many furs?"

"Not a very tasteful one," the Doctor murmured, his scent indicating a similar disapproval. I thumped my tail in encouragement, they really were quite bright for humans.

"She's coming here." Watson went on in surprise he turned to his friend. "Holmes…you don't think…"

Holmes did not answer, only looked around at the crowd of puppies, at the Pongos and finally at me.

I met his gaze and held it, wishing for once that his race was intelligent enough to understand the language of my own.

There was the ring of the bell, then the familiar smells and sounds of Mrs. Hudson (fresh bread and clean linen) answering the door.

Sharp footsteps and a sharper voice rattled up the steps and I felt myself flinching instinctively along with the Pongos and the puppies.

My pet took out his pipe and stuck it in his mouth reflectively. His scent was as enigmatic as his face, I could not read his thoughts, and I was as curious as Watson smelled when he went to the door and opened it just enough to peer out at the horrible woman who attempted to force her way past.

"Where are they!?" she screeched, "What have you done with them?"

I looked anxiously about, but the puppies had retreated from the line of sight, some going into Holmes' bedroom, some crouched around their parents, who stared in fear at the door.

Holmes blocked the woman's attempted entrance.

"What do you mean madam?" My pet said coolly, "I must say I am not accustomed to such disturbances at this late hour.

Liar, I huffed softly and Watson smiled in amusement, both of us knowing better.

"Horace and Jasper saw them come in here!" the woman snapped, her eyes alight with a desperate frenzy. "Don't try to deny it!"

Holmes stood unmoved, peering curiously at her companions, the very ones I had crossed paths with earlier.

"Have you been drinking gentlemen?" he asked sniffing the air. I grinned and thumped my tail in approval, only imagine the results if he did that more often.

The woman glared at my pet. "And just who are you?"

"My name is Sherlock Holmes."

For the first time since the woman's arrival, silence filled the room, and I wrinkled my nose as her terrible scent took on a tinge of fear.

"Holmes." She said softly, her eyes locked by the hypnotic gaze of the detective. She whirled on her thugs, her eyes sharp as flint. "Jasper you idiot, how dare you drink on the job!"

The man cringed, and backed off, "Look Miss, we saw what we saw, but…"

He trailed off as he looked at Holmes, and I almost sneezed at the fear he radiated.

"Blimey," he whispered and he and the stout one began to descend the steps.

The woman sniffed haughtily, and peered past Holmes once more before turning to follow them.

Holmes shut the door, then turned round with a very bemused grin.

Watson stared at him, his eyes filled with sudden understanding.

"Holmes…that woman…these dogs…do you remember that very odd case only few weeks ago…about…"

Holmes smiled. "Oh yes Watson, I remember." He looked round at the huddle of dogs who were once again moving about in comfortable relief, Pongo and Perdita sent me relieved looks, and I wagged my tail proudly. Oh yes…my pets were wonderful.

Holmes finished his survey and looked at me, "In all my years I never thought I would be outdone, by this sort of detective Watson."

Watson shook his head in amazement.

"Well we can take them round in the morning…but how on earth are we going to explain this Holmes?"

Holmes shooed several puppies from his armchair and sat with a sigh.

"That does not worry me half as much my dear fellow, as to how we will explain this all to Mrs. Hudson!"