He could barely lift his paws or move his legs. ‘I’ve got to keep moving!’ he screamed in his brain. ‘If I stop, I’ll never be able to move again!’ The Trifles watched in horror as Selby stood up on his hind legs, stretched his front paws upwards, and then came to a stop. ‘Selby, what’s wrong?’ Mrs Trifle cried, clutching him in her arms. ‘You’re as hard as a rock!’ ‘I’m frozen!’ Selby screamed. ‘And it’s all Dr Trifle’s fault! He poisoned me!’ Or at least that’s what he tried to scream but by then it was too late. He couldn’t move his lips or his tongue or even his vocal cords. The only sound that came out of him was a tiny rush of air. And then his lungs stopped working. And his heart stopped. ‘This is awful!’ Mrs Trifle cried, as the tears poured down her face. ‘This is terrible! It’s a tragedy! How could this have happened to him?’ It all started earlier that day. Mrs Trifle had just come home from work as Dr Trifle came out of his workroom.
