When last we met: “The evil ones know how powerful the bond between human and canine is, and so they aim to break the bond whenever they can,” said the eagle chief. “And here, at the nexus point of the storm, that bond is the single biggest element of resistance against the triumph of evil.” “That’s why the dogs are the bait in our plan to trap the Evil One,” Blurg said. “Come again?” asked Summer.

It was very windy on Halloween morning. The sky to the southwest was as dark as dark could ever be.

“Ready?” I said, standing just inside the house by the patio door. 

Sitting patiently by my side were Dejah Thoris Princess of Mars, my 11-year-old, English cream golden retriever who was wise beyond her years, and Summer, my 3-year-old retriever who was still trying to remember what her name was.

“Ready,” said Dejah.

“Ready for what?” said Summer, but she added, “Just kidding, Daddy. Let’s do this.”

I slid open the patio door, and Dejah waddled onto the deck. I followed and looked back. Summer, as always, was standing just inside the threshold as if trying to decide whether to come out.

“Come on,” I coaxed. “Come on out.”

After I waved her onto the deck two or three times, she stepped outside.

Today, I really couldn’t blame her if she was afraid. Even though there were 17 elfin wizards and wizardesses and three or four dozen tiny warriors, nearly 30 eagles, a dozen large deer, and five dragons standing between the deck and the coming storm, we had seen the video from down south, where hurricanes had ravaged large swaths of territory in recent weeks. And this hurricane was not only more powerful than those storms, it was being directed by some sort of supernatural being — the Evil One, if the prophecy was to be believed.

“Don’t worry, little one,” said Blurg the wizardess, who had to look up to meet Summer’s eyes. “We’ve got this.” She and her 16 mystical colleagues had positioned themselves along the outside of the backyard fence, spaced more or less evenly.

“I don’t blame you for being scared, sister,” Dejah said. “I’m old, I have most of my life behind me, but you have most of your life ahead.”

“I’m not scared, I’m just nervous,” Summer said. “And stop talking about how old you are.”

A bolt of lightning flashed in the sky, and a moment later thunder rocked the land.

“Here it comes,” said Grenn.

The great darkness began to descend, and the wind picked up. More lightning, more thunder, and then rain began to fall.

And then a huge face appeared in the sky in front of the storm. It sort of resembled the giant who was the leader of the worblatt crew, and it sort of resembled the little green guy who had teleported Summer and Seth to Red River Park — especially the green monster’s smirky smirk.

His voice, however, was very familiar, and it seemed to be coming from everywhere at once.

“THE TIME OF MAGIC IS AT ITS PEAK, AND MY TIME HAS COME AT LAST,” said the huge face.

“I thought he said he wasn’t really the Evil One,” Dejah said uneasily.

“I LIED. IT’S WHAT I DO BEST,” said the face. “OF COURSE I AM THE EVIL ONE. PREPARE YOURSELVES FOR ETERNITY.”

Summer, Dejah and I stood on the deck facing the oncoming hurricane and the giant green face. Between us and the storm were a dozen determined white-tailed deer, 29 warrior eagles, five dragons and several dozen [unpronounceable] elfin beings, including the 17 wizards and wizardesses who stood along the fence.

I have to admit, as the wind whipped fallen leaves in circles around the yard and rain started falling sideways in the wind, I began to suspect it wasn’t going to be enough.

“Oh dear,” Dejah said. Summer just whimpered.

When last we met: “Worblatts and their ilk are easy to defeat,” said Seth the Dragon. “A hurricane is something else.” “This has to work,” said Blurg. “There is no other way.” And as the sun set to begin the night before Halloween and a light breeze started to grow stronger, I voiced the only question on my mind. “Why did they go after the dogs?”

“Why did they go after the dogs?” I repeated. “The first move they made was to reach for the dogs. What’s going on?”

Seth sat down in the field next to the great buck, who had mounted the septic mound. The lead eagle fluttered onto the railing on the deck. Grenn and Blurg hopped onto the chair. I stood on the deck, and the dogs sat just inside the open patio door. The melody of the wind chimes was a constant reminder that the wind was rising.

Everyone looked at me like I had entirely missed the point of everything. It was quiet, except for the wind chimes, for a very long moment.

Blurg, the [unpronounceable] wizards, broke the semi-silence.

“Of course they went after the dogs,” she said. “That’s the whole point of everything.”

“What?” I said.

“What?” Dejah said.

“I don’t get it,” Summer said.

“It’s in the prophecy,” said the eagle. “In the time of magic there will come a day when the dimensions merge and tongues are unlocked to a human.”

“Right, and beware the Evil One and all that,” I said. “What does that have to do with the dogs?”

“Whose tongues did you think are unlocked to a human?”

“Well, everyone’s,” Dejah said. “He couldn’t talk to any of you guys before this all started.”

A ripple of laughter rippled through the crowd of eagles, deer, dragons and [unpronounceables].

“We talk to humans all the time,” the eagle said. “They just don’t listen.”

“How can that be?” I said. “I never heard you speak before.”

“It’s a last resort,” said the great buck. “When all else fails and it’s absolutely necessary, we speak to you with your words. But dogs can only use your words during the Time of Magic.”

“That doesn’t seem fair,” Summer said.

“It probably isn’t,” said Grenn. “But humans have a wise saying: ‘It is what it is.’ It might be the only wise saying they ever conjured on their own.”

“So only dogs need their tongues unlocked? Why?” I asked.

“We don’t need words, most of the time,” Dejah said, her eyes lighting up like James Earl Jones realizing that people will come.

All of the magical beings in the field and the yard nodded with approval.

“From the beginning of time, dogs and humans have been able to talk to one another without words,” Dejah said. “Oh, you teach us your words and we understand, but we understand each other in ways that transcend the verbal. Ages ago you took us in when we were hungry and cold, and in return we give you happiness and companionship and love without question.”

Seth the Dragon nodded. “Evil cannot stand in the face of happiness and companionship and love, so its first instinct is to remove the dogs.”

I began to see. Dejah stepped forward onto the deck and looked up at me until I instinctively began to scratch behind her ears.

“Do you remember when my big sister Willow died?” she said. “The bond was broken. There was a visible hole in your heart for months.”

“I remember feeling lost and alone. It felt like a hole, but it wasn’t visible.”

“Oh, it was visible. It still is,” Grenn said. “You just don’t have the eyes to see.”

“It didn’t start to heal until you and Mom brought Summer here,” Dejah said.

“Who, me?” Summer said.

“Of course, you little goof,” I said.

“The evil ones know how powerful that bond is, and so they aim to break the bond whenever they can,” said the eagle chief. “And here, at the nexus point of the storm, that bond is the single biggest element of resistance against the triumph of evil.”

“That’s why the dogs are the bait in our plan to trap the Evil One,” Blurg said.

“Come again?” asked Summer.

When last we met: “WHO SAID ANYTHING ABOUT A FAIR FIGHT?” There suddenly came a voice that sounded like it was coming from everywhere at once. We looked to the southwest and saw the tall giant who had pretended to be the Evil One. He was flanked by his worblatt henchmen, Bellzy, Bub and Clancy. Before anyone had a chance to say, “Holy cow, the bad guys are here,” the giant said, “GET ’EM, BOYS.”

I noticed something odd right away. As almost five dozen elfin beings, 29 eagles, a dozen white-tailed deer and five dragons rallied against three worblatts and a whatever-he-was, the loudmouthed giant leader reached his long arm toward Summer. And the three worblatts surrounded Dejah as best they could without stepping over the fence into the backyard.

“They’re going after the dogs,” I said incredulously. And then I repeated angrily, “They’re going after the dogs!”

“Then get them inside!” Grenn yelled.

“Right. Come here, Dejah,” I said, and the old white dog scampered up the stairs and through the open patio door. “Summer?”

Summer stared at the giant hand reaching down toward her. She looked around the yard. Then she looked at the giant hand reaching down toward her. With all due respect to the 12 white-tailed deer galloping toward the worblatts, Summer looked like a deer caught in headlights.

“SUMMMERRR!” I screamed as the hand began to close around my sweet, gentle, goofy 3-year-old dog.

“COME HERE, LITTLE GIRL,” the giant said, closing his fist around Summer and beginning to lift her off the ground.

Have you ever seen five dragons spew flames from their mouths, all directed at an enormous giant’s head? We all had to turn our heads away, the fire was so bright.

The giant’s hand went limp, Summer dropped three or four feet to the ground and ran like the wind up the stairs and into the house.

The giant’s face was still intact, but it was as charred as you might think it would be after dragons breathed fire from five different directions.

“Ow,” said the giant, and it was the first time it was not necessary to use all-caps to quote him. He brought his enormous hands to his face as if to make sure it was still there. Yes, he still had a face, but it resembled a marshmallow that got too close to the campfire.

The giant ringleader stumbled backwards, tripped over one of the willow trees, and landed in a sitting position in the big field beyond the trees.

“OW!” he cried, a little more definitively, and then, waving at the worblatts, cried, “EXTERMINATE THEM ALL!”

“Did you see what they did to the boss?” Bellzy said.

“You heard him, let’s get busy!” Clancy cried.

But Seth the dragon gave Clancy a prodigious push from behind, and the monster tripped over the fence and landed face first in the backyard.

I hope I have emphasized enough two facts about my backyard. First, I neglected my duty to pick up after my dogs and was encouraged by various magical beings to maintain this neglect until after Halloween. Second, Clancy the worblatt was disgusted and terrified by dog poo to the level of a phobia.

The scream of horror was deafening. Clancy leapt to his feet, ran across the field and into the woods, which led down through a small wetlands and into the waters of Green Bay. We heard an enormous splash from below and Clancy’s cries of “Ew! Ew! Ew!” as he washed his face and body in the great bay.

Meanwhile, the assembled little army of [unpronounceables], dragons, eagles and deer swarmed over the two remaining worblatts and the dazed giant, who stumbled and rumbled and retreated through a hastily constructed inter-dimensional portal.

“That was almost too easy,” said the eagle chief.

“Worblatts and their ilk are easy to defeat,” said Seth the Dragon. “A hurricane is something else.”

“This has to work,” said Blurg. “There is no other way.”

And as the sun set to begin the night before Halloween and a light breeze started to grow stronger, I voiced the only question on my mind.

“Why did they go after the dogs?”