“Hank’s a hippo,” Fuzzy meowed again.
Little Vinnie was staring at Fuzzy like she had just lost all of her whiskers. “I knew that,” he meowed indignantly.
“Well, don’t get your tail in an uproar,” Fuzzy grumbled. “I was just meowing.”
“Does Hank live here?” Vinnie asked again.
For a second, Fuzzy had an image of Hank prowling around the house. Holy meows- what in the meow would that paws-ibly be like, living with a hippo? Fuzzy didn’t think that Hank would even be able to fit into that bathtub. But we meow-gress.
“Hank doesn’t live here,” Fuzzy answered, wondering how this little fella even knew about Hank to begin with but what did it matter? Hank was a legend and every animal probably knew it!
Vinnie looked so bummed that it was kind of laughable. “Do you think he’ll come around?” he asked.
Fuzzy couldn’t help herself. “How in the meow do you know about Hank?”
“Everybody knows about Hank,” Vinnie answered.
That’s when Barney stumbled into view. He stared at little Vinnie in disbelief. “Meee-ow! I know you!!!” he yowled.