Wheeling Gull Isle Revenge of the orchestra.

If there was anything to restore the ever-ebbing faith Dinah had in God, it was the familiar, mildly tone-deaf howl of; GRAMMA!
The instant the song hit her batty little ears, she darted as fast as she could from where she'd been near the lion's den. In her jaws was a pristine white aster; the perfect gift! All the way across the island in a feverish dash, tail thumping in a stuttering ectatic flail, a trail of divots in the sand behind her. Right up to the land bridge, absolutely ignorant of anything in her way—
Dinah makes contact with Great Mount Towhee in a flurry of sunburst fur, leaping up and sweeping her into a profound embrace with arms much longer and stronger than when they'd last done so.