"Oh, Ryder! Thank you for coming so quickly!" Farmer Yumi said. "Emma and Corny ran off towards the pond, and they can't swim!"

"Don't worry, the PAW Patrol is here to help!" Ryder said. He immediately began sending off pups. "Skye, I need you to fly above the farm to try and find those two pigs."

"Ruff, ruff! This pup's gotta fly!" she yipped happily. The roaring of the helicopter increased, gradually fading away as the cockapoo started the search.

"Rubble," Ryder continued, "I need you to load your rig with corn to try and lure Corny and Emma to you."

"Let's dig it!" Rubble shouted.

Farmer Yumi spoke up as well. "Rubble, I can help you find some corn. Follow me." Farmer Yumi started walking towards the silo, with Rubble creeping his rig forward ever so slowly.

"Rocky, let's start fixing this gate latch." The mixed breed looked happily at his owner.

"Green means go!"

The pair walked to the pen where the pigs were kept, everything seeming to be in order. Rocky looked carefully at the mud in the pen, resolving to try and stay away from it. Ryder knelt down carefully, studying the latch. Rocky examined the latch as well. Ryder fingered it with a look of understanding.

"Rocky," he said, still staring at the latch, "this looks like-"

"-someone sawed it," the mixed breed finished. Ryder nodded.

"Someone wanted these pigs to get loose. Someone wanted us here. But why?"

"Ba-gawk!" a chicken shouted. Both Ryder and Rocky started in surprise, with the latter jumping in the air. He crashed to the earth moments later, landing directly in the pig pen. Thick, gloppy muck covered him. Rocky moaned loudly in anger.

"No! Now I have to take a bath!" Ryder tried not to laugh, but he couldn't help but let out a small giggle through his hands. If looks could kill, Ryder decided, he would definitely have been killed by Rocky's glare.

Sighing, Ryder said, "come here, pup. We have a latch to fix." He held his hand out for Rocky, who trudged through the muck. Ryder grabbed his collar and pulled Rocky out. His nose wrinkled as he caught a whiff of Rocky up closely. "Rocky, you're going to need a bath."

Rocky stuck out his bottom lip. "Dang chicken. It's all your fault!" he shouted, pointing at the culprit.

"Ba-gawk!"

"How's Chase doing, dude?" Zuma asked Marshall. Marshall checked the thermometer in Chase's mouth, then turned to Zuma.

"Well, he still has a high fever. The worst is behind us at this point, but he just needs rest. He shouldn't wake up for a while just because his body is making itself recuperate." Zuma looked at his sleeping friend.

"I hope he feels bettew soon." Marshall placed a paw on Zuma's shoulder.

"Best thing we can do now is hope for the best." Zuma nodded, yet didn't leave.

The door glided open, causing both pups to turn to see who entered.

"Hi, pups," Katie said. "Ryder called me and told me what happened. How's Chase doing?"

"Hi Katie," Zuma and Marshall both said.

"He's doing a little better, still has a high fever," Marshall said, "but he should be doing better. I'm still trying to figure out what exactly caused him to be sick. He's still resting, in fact he'll probably be doing that for the next couple days."

Katie went down her knees to examine Chase. Marshall watched her closely as the girl gently pried open Chase's mouth. The sleeping pup offered no resistance to Katie's hands.

"Marshall, can you give me a light?"

"Certainly," the dalmatian replied. "Arf! Light!" The light on his EMT helmet came on, and he shined it in Chase's mouth.

"Well," Katie said, gently letting Chase's mouth close, "his throat's red. I was expecting as much, but it never hurts to check. Anything else?"

"Not really. Just a red throat, a temperature, and that's about it. Last night he stopped breathing twice due to phlegm clogging his throat. I get the feeling it's something like pneumonia. A very weak form of it."

Katie nodded. "That's probably what it is. Any predictions when he'll wake up?" Marshall bit his lip at that question.

"I don't know."

"Rocky, look at this," Ryder said.

Rocky decided that Ryder's statement was a bit unnecessary, as he was already looking at it, but Ryder was merely observing it.

The latch was in a clean two pieces. Where it broke was linear, almost like someone had sawed it. One half of the latch was dangling meekly from the gate itself, the other half barely holding onto the round eye of the latch.

"Looks like someone cut it," Rocky said to Ryder.

Ryder grimaced. "Yes, it does."

The two stared for a long moment at it, as if it would fix itself. Without a word, Rocky went to the back of his truck. Objects started flying out of it, and Ryder cautiously approached. A rubber duck came out, followed by a bent trumpet that didn't work. Three doorknobs were thrown in rapid succession, reminding Ryder of a machine gun. Rocky come out, but not with wood. It was a 1955 Chevy Bel Air grill.

"Almost forgot I had this," was all Rocky said as he set it gently on the ground. He vanished into his truck. "Found it!" Rocky came out, dragging a long board. Rocky kept walking away from his truck, and walking, and walking. Ryder thought it must've been at least fifteen feet long. The storage compartment of the Mixed Breed's truck was only eight feet deep.

"How do you- oh, nevermind," Ryder said, shaking his head. Rocky grinned at him.

The wind roared around her. Skye looked over the cockpit wall to try and find the two pigs. She looked back and forth across the land. No sign of the swine. Hey, that kinda rhymed, Skye thought to herself. The Cockapoo shook her head to clear it. She was about to update Ryder that they weren't anywhere in sight when she spotted something. Two little shapes were scurrying across the land, as if playing tag with one another.

She excitedly turned her pup-tag on. "Ryder, I found Emma and Corny. They're running through the northwest side of the forest."

"Great work, Skye!" Ryder said over her tag, "The pen is almost finished. Rubble"

"Here, Ryder."

"I need you to use the corn you and Farmer Yumi got to lure Emma and Corny back to the pen."

"Let's dig it!"

Skye's pup-tag fell silent.

"Here, pig, pig, pig! Want some corn?" Rubble shouted for the third time. When Skye had told him he was close, he would've expected to find at least one of the pigs after a few minutes. "Thanks for the terrific directions, Skye," Rubble muttered. He continued to drive around, calling for Emma and Corny the whole time.

"Rubble, to your right! They're nearby!" Skye's voice came over his pup-tag, startling him. He didn't bother to respond, but immediately turned to the right. He drove for another thirty feet, and came over a crest. Sure enough, there were the two pigs. They were rolling around in a mud pool, squealing and snorting happily.

"Here piggies! Want some corn?" Rubble asked, lowering his rig's bucket.

Nothing happened.

"C'mon!" Rubble shouted, "Don't you want some corn?" The impatient Bulldog slammed his paw down in anger. The pigs seemed to not take any notice, continuing to just lay in the mud. Emma's ear twitched lazily, almost as if laughing at Rubble's dilema. In response, the Bulldog slowly got out of his rig. He grabbed an ear of corn from his rig's bucket, and walked towards the pigs. "Here pigs! Want some corn?" he yelled, getting closer and closer. He stopped right on the edge of the mud pool, trying to wave the corn out as far as he could.

Still nothing.

"Dang it! Come here pigs!" he yelled yet again. This time it seemed to get their attention. They slowly turned to the Bulldog, seeing the massive stack of corn.

With squeals of delight, they chased after Rubble, who briskly, but carefully, lured the pigs toward the barn.

"Hey, Ryder!" Rubble said into his pup-tag.

"I'm here, Rubble. Go ahead," Ryder responded.

"I'm bringing the pigs back to the barn. They really want this corn!"

"That's great, Rubble! Rocky and I have the pen fixed, so bring 'em home!"

"Rubble on the double!"

Rocky drilled in the last screw just as Rubble appeared from the forest, pigs running behind him. "Just in time!" Rocky called, swinging open the gate. Rubble grinned, turning into the pen. He drove to the far side before dumping the corn in his rig's bucket. As soon as Emma and Corny dove in snout-first, Rubble reversed out. Rocky closed the pen, latching it shut.

"Looks like a job well-done! Thanks, Ryder. You saved the day again!" Farmer Yumi said.

"No problem, Farmer Yumi," Ryder replied. "Just remember, if you're ever in trouble…"

"Just yelp for help!" Rocky finished, tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth.

"Well," Ryder started, "I guess it's time we got back to the Lookout. Marshall and Zuma are probably bored out of their minds." Rocky giggled at the statement. The two most energetic pups being left to do nothing for a few hours.

"We're probably going to get assaulted when we get there, Ryder," Rocky said.

"Probably," the boy admitted. "We can just send Skye and Rubble in first."

"I heard that," a voice said over Rocky's pup-tag, "and I vote Rubble goes first. I'm not wrestling those two boys if I can avoid it." The Mixed-Breed and his owner giggled at the sheer amounts of venom in the feminine voice. "Laugh it up, why don't you," Skye continued, "last time I swear they were gonna crush me when we got back."

Rocky couldn't help but take a jab at his friend. "Was that the time when Marshall tried to mou-"

"You finish that statement and I'll be sure YOU can't do it to your girl, if you can even find one." That promptly shut Rocky up. Ryder laughed at his pups antics.

"What did Marshall try and do?" Rubble asked innocently.

"That's for me to know, and you to leave alone," Skye said, starting to get angry.

"Don't worry, Rubble. I'll let you know when we get back," Rocky answered, making sure to switch his pup-tag off.

"Rocky, you better not tell Rubble, either. Just because I can't hear anything doesn't mean I don't know what you're doing."

"I think we should leave this for when we get home, pups," Ryder interrupted, "It's getting late. Marshall and Zuma are probably wondering where we are right now."

"Aw man, I was having fun," Rocky pouted, shoving out his bottom lip.

"Well I wasn't! I'll see you when you get back to the Lookout." Skye's helicopter flew away, just a tad faster than she normally travelled.

"What's her problem?" Rubble asked, genuinely curious. Skye didn't get angry about a lot of things.

Rocky couldn't help but reply as his truck started. "I'll tell you on the way back."

Skye bristled on her way back to the Lookout. Of course he brings it up. Of course he does! He has no right! That's between me, Marshall, and Chase. Skye shook her head as the Lookout came into view. The nerve of some people. Or pups.

She carefully set down in her place on the turntable. She jumped out, barking her helicopter back into her pup house. It would be another twenty-ish minutes before Ryder and the others got back, mostly due to twisting roads and low speed-limits. Another reason flying was better than driving.

Moving cautiously, Skye made her way to the Lookout doors. She walked in slowly, making sure neither Marshall nor Zuma was in the room. Their naivety had led to some...uncomfortable, experiences for Skye in the past. Well, for everyone. Thankfully, though, they weren't in the main area of the Lookout. The small Cockapoo let out a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding.

She let herself fall onto one of the cushions that were scattered near the TV. Even though she was doing what she loved, helping the PAW Patrol, didn't mean that it was tiring.

"Oh, thank goodness you'we hewe!" Zuma shouted. Skye jumped, and nearly hit the ceiling. She almost started to run, but realized Zuma wasn't getting near her. Thankfully, Zuma was too excited to notice. "Skye, you wouldn't believe who twied to catch us!"

Skye tilted her head in confusion. "'Catch' you? What?"

"Just follow me!"

"...and that's why we don't bring it up around Skye. Ever. I'm surprised she was as calm as she was."

"How did that even happen in the first place, Rocky?" Rubble asked.

"I don't know," Rocky lied. "He was probably just super excited. I read in a book once that apparently us pups do it when we get excited. I thought it was just humans being humans."

"But Ryder's a-"

"I know. He probably knew, which is probably why he wasn't angry. I don't get why humans observe us. It's not like we observe them."

"We observe Ryder. Remember when he said-"

"Please don't repeat that, Rubble. Ryder was stressed and tired. We all go a little crazy when we get tired.

"But, you didn't let me-"

"Oh, look! It's the Lookout! I don't know about you, but I'm starved!" Rocky quickly shut off his pup-tag, glad that he avoided that near-catastrophe. He quickly parked his truck, and ran inside. He wanted to avoid having to explain anymore to Rubble. The pup was too curious for his own good.

The Mixed-Breed stepped inside the Lookout and froze. In the center of the room, paws tied up, and gagged, was Sweetie.

A/N: Sorry about leaving this story alone for almost a year. Being honest, I kinda lost the desire to write. I'm gonna finish this story, and then probably go silent for a while. I am working on another story, but I'm waiting until I finish writing it to post it. Now, it's probably going to take a while to finish it, but I will get to it. I just feel like this fandom is slowly dying as nearly every kind of story is being written, and writers of the old guard are starting to leave. Who knows, this fandom might be revived within the year, or it could fade away. But, I figured I may as well finish this, as it is more popular than I would've thought it would be, for such a random idea it was at the time. Anyways, hopefully I can get the next chapter out before the end of the month. Until then, this is TheMattdude signing off!