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Ouch.
Great job, guys.
This is the best dog house I've ever seen.
-Let's face it. We're good.
-Brandon, you should have gotten home owner's insurance.
-Come on, children.
I have a wonderful surprise.
-What is it?
-I'll give you a hint.
It has something to do with royalty.
-It's Prince.
Henry, where's Prince? -Who's Prince?
-He's the guy who made Purple Rain.
-I thought air pollution did that.
-Henry, I don't see any surprise.
-My surprise is in here.
-I got it!
You just came back from the bank and you're
going to give us each $100.
-In your dreams, Allen.
Now, I just got back from an estate sale.
-Wait a minute.
They sell states?
-Gee, I wonder how much New Jersey costs.
-No.
An estate sale is when a person dies,
and his possessions are sold.
-You bought a wallet from a dead guy?
-No.
I bought these stamps from a dead guy.
-That's your big surprise, stamps?
-Punky, these are the very rare Crowned Heads of Europe series.
There's King George, Queen Wilhelmina, Czar Nicholas,
and of course, everybody's favorite, Kaiser Wilhelm.
-They're really neat, Mr. Warnimont.
-Thank you, Allen.
I always knew you had a bit of a philatelist in you.
-I do?
Am I going to die?
-A philatelist is a stamp collector.
My mom is a stamp collector too.
-Is that so?
-Yeah.
Three more books, and she can get a waffle iron.
-Congratulations.
-Thanks.
-Hey kids, would you like me to show you my stamp album?
-Well-- -Sure!
-Aren't these wonderful?
-Would you like me to tell you the history
behind these stamps?
It would only take a couple of hours.
-Well--
-Sure.
-Henry, I've got a complaint.
-What else is new?
-All that sawing and hammering down here
vibrated one of my most valuable possessions
right off of my what-not shelf.
-What was it?
-My Mr. T tea cup. -Did it break?
Can't it be repaired?
-All the Krazy Glue and all the fix-it men
couldn't put Mr. T Back together again.
-I'm terribly sorry, Mrs. Johnson.
I promise I'll keep my eye out for a Mr. T tea cup.
-Brandon, please don't swallow those stamps.
No.
Henry's going to be really mad.
When he finds out, he's going to hit the roof.
-I've got a great idea.
-What is it?
-Let's all go home.
-Allen, I am home.
-But we're not.
Come on, Cherie. -Bye, Punky.
Good luck.
-Boy, Brandon.
If you had a doghouse, you'd really be in it now.
Do you realize what you've done?
You've ate the Head Crowns of Europe.
Don't worry.
We'll get you out of this mess.
-Is there anything else I can do?
-Well, the cup cost $10.
Plus, it has sentimental value.
Could I deduct $100 from my rent?
-In your dreams, Mrs. Johnson.
-Henry, don't.
-Don't what?
-Um, don't look at m-- stamps without your magnifying glass.
You'll strain your eyes.
-You're absolutely right, Punky.
-Something wrong, Henry?
-What are these?
-The Head Crowns.
See, those are the heads, and those are the crowns.
-Punky, Queen Wilhelmina did not have a red nose.
-Maybe she had the sniffles.
-OK, the joke is over, Punky.
Where are the real stamps?
-Wait, you know that guy we say on TV, um,
that ate light bulbs and Brillo pads?
I think his name was, um, the human goat.
Mhm.
-What about him?
-We sort of have a dog here like that.
-Are you saying that Brandon ate my stamps?
-He might have.
-How could he do it?
It took me years to find them.
They're priceless.
-He didn't mean to.
You see, he liked those stamps so
much that he tried to kiss them.
And they slipped right into his belly.
-That's it.
I've had it up to here with this mongrel.
He's ruined all my furniture, and now he's
swallowed my beautiful stamps.
You're a bad dog.
Bad dog.
-Come on, Brandon.
Let's go and take a walk until Henry cools off.
Henry, Brandon's not a bad dag.
He's just a dog that's had a bad day.
Hello.
I was wondering if you had a set of the Crowned
Heads of Europe stamps for sale.
You might?
I see.
You just sold your only sent to an old geezer,
and you're expecting to see them at another estate sale
very soon.
Well, forget it.
This is one old geezer who will outlive his stamps.
-Punky!
-Henry, Brandon's been hit by a car, and he's not moving.
-I'm sorry, but you can't go in there.
-But I want to be with Brandon.
-Don't worry. We'll take good care of him.
-Please don't let him die.
-Come on, Punky.
Let's sit down.
We're just going to have to wait.
-Henry, is Brandon going to be OK?
-I'm sure he is.
Dr. Frankel's a very good veterinarian.
-He certainly is.
I wouldn't trust my dog, Angus, with anyone else.
-Really?
-Absolutely, my dear.
Your dog is excellent hands.
-Thank you.
I'm Henry Warnimont.
And this is my daughter, Punky.
-Grace Carney.
I'm sorry about your dog, Punky.
How did it happen?
-Well, you see, Brandon and I were crossing the street.
The car forgot to stop at the red light.
It came straight at us.
The next thing I know, Brandon pushes me out of the way,
and he gets hit.
-Brandon saved your life.
What a brave dog.
-Yeah, but it was my fault that he got hit.
I should have had him on his leash.
-It wasn't your fault, Punky.
It was just a very unfortunate accident.
-Mrs. Carney is right, Punky.
I'm sure Brandon wouldn't blame you for what happened.
-You really think so?
-I know so. -Thanks, Henry.
-Mrs. Carney, what's the matter with your dog?
-My Angus is very old, Punky.
He's here to have an operation that, hopefully, will
add a few more years to his life.
-Dr. Frankel--
-Hello, Punky.
-How's Brandon?
-Well, he has a broken leg, but we're setting it.
He also sustained a concussion when his head hit the ground.
-Can I see him? -Not yet.
I'm sorry.
-Is he going to be OK?
-Well, we don't know, Punky.
-Of course he will.
He'll be fine.
He's got to be.
-Henry's not back yet.
-No, not yet, dear.
-What are you knitting?
-It's a sweater for Angus. -It's pretty.
What kind of dog is Angus?
-He's a Scottie.
Would you like to see some pictures of him?
-Sure.
-That's Angus and me in Miami Beach.
He just loves to body surf.
-He looks like a great dog.
-He most certainly is.
He's been my best friend ever since my husband, Howard, died.
- I'm sorry about your husband.
I bet you really miss him.
- No.
Angus is a much better companion than Howard ever was.
Angus is neat, loyal, and trustworthy.
I never did know where Howard was at night.
-Dogs are great.
In the morning I can just hear Brandon's little doggy
voice saying, rise and shine.
It's a doggone good day.
- When Angus wakes up, he says, me old bones are aching.
I think I'll sleep a wee bit longer.
-I hope you and Angus will be together for a real long time.
-I hope so.
I honestly don't know what I would do without him.
-I don't know what I would do without Brandon, either.
-Punky, look what I've got.
Brandon's favorite treat, deep dish puppy pizza.
-That's really nice of you, Henry.
-It's the least I could do.
Punky, it's really my fault that Brandon got hit.
If I hadn't yelled at him about those stupid stamps,
this never would have happened.
-It's not your fault, Henry.
If Brandon doesn't blame me for what happened,
I'm sure he won't blame you, either.
-Mrs. Carney?
-Yes.
-The operation is over and Angus is in the recovery room.
-May I see him? -Of course.
Mr. Warnimont, may I see you for a moment?
-Yes, Doctor.
-I'm afraid there's been no change in Brandon's condition.
I hate to say this, but, in my opinion,
there's very little chance of survival.
I recommend that Brandon be put to sleep.
-No, absolutely not. It's out of the question.
That dog means everything to my little girl.
-Well, I can understand how you feel, Mr. Warnimont.
It-- it's a very difficult decision.
Everyone loves their pet.
But believe me, it's the humane thing to do.
-I'll have to talk it over with Punky.
-What is it, Henry?
-Punky, we have to make a decision about Brandon.
-What do you mean?
-Dr. Frankel feels Brandon should be put to sleep.
-No!
-Punky, we have to do what's best for Brandon.
You don't want him to suffer, do you?
-No.
-Well then, what do you think we should do?
-I think I should go and say good bye to Brandon.
-I'll be right outside.
-Hi, Brandon.
How do you feel?
Yeah, I don't feel so hot, either.
Thanks, for pushing me out of the way of that car.
You saved my life.
If you wanted to know the truth, I'd rather have gotten hit.
Brandon, Dr. Frankel's going to give you
something to make you stay asleep.
And when you wake up, you'll be in heaven.
Brandon, you're my best friend in the whole world,
and I'm really going to miss you.
No, Brandon.
This isn't right.
I can't give up.
I'm not going to let you die.
You still have squirrels to chase and bones to bury.
You're going to be around for a long, long time.
But first, you've got to wake up.
Brandon, wake up.
Please, Brandon.
I love you.
I love you.
I love you.
I love you.
- Brandon?
Brandon!
Henry, come quick.
Brandon's awake!
-All right.
Good dog.
Good dog.
You're a good dog.
From now on, you can eat all the stamps you want.
-Angus has died.
- Mrs. Carney, I'm so sorry.
-Angus lived a very long, full life.
But I'm happy for you, Punky.
-Mrs. Carney, are you going to be OK?
- Don't worry about me.
I'm going to be just fine.
-Can we drive you home?
-Um, no. Thanks.
I think I'd like to walk.
-Henry, there's something I don't understand.
-What's that?
-How come Brandon woke up?
-Well, maybe he-- he knows how much you love him, and how much
you'd miss him if he were gone.
-But Mrs. Carney loved Angus just as much as I love Brandon.
And she'll miss him just as much.
How come Brandon lived, and Angus died?
-Punky, I-- I just don't know.
-Come on, Brandon.
Brandon, we really missed you.
-We certainly did.
In fact, I have a little welcome home surprise for you.
I hope you like it.
Close your eyes.
-Ta-da!
-It's beautiful.
-What do think, Brandon?
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