The Good Dog (10 page)

He led them to the trickling stream where he had fetched water for Lupin. As soon as they reached it, the wolf lapped some up.

McKinley continued to lead, though it was Lupin who set the pace. Now and again McKinley turned back to look at the wolf in the fading light. Her head low, tail drooping, she was clearly in
pain. Though she made no complaint, she often paused to moisten her mouth.

When the three reached the edge of the trees, they halted. A wind was rising.

Lupin lifted her nose and sniffed. “Humans.”

Aspen drew closer to the wolf. “Around here you can always smell people. But I don't think anyone is close.”

“I despise humans,” Lupin growled.

McKinley looked about. “They're not all bad.”

“Then why must I hide?” Lupin snapped.

“To tell the truth, Lupin, it's not the humans I'm worried about. It's the dogs.”

The wolf turned her head. “What do you mean?”

Aspen answered her. “Remember, it was a dog who led that human with the long gun to you.”

Lupin was silent for a moment. Then she snarled, “It's because you dogs allow yourselves to become slaves to humans that such things happen.”

McKinley decided not to respond. “Wait here. I need to be sure no one's around.”

He trotted out from beneath the trees into the
field. The moon, obscured by thickening clouds, cast a dull glow on the high, dry grass. No stars were visible. McKinley sniffed. Snow was certainly coming.

Returning to where Aspen and Lupin waited, he barked, “We can go on.”

They splashed quietly along until they reached the cabin.

“Here we are,” McKinley barked.

Lupin squinted at the building and wrinkled her nose with loathing. “Do you expect me to go in there?” she growled angrily.

“Lupin, you can't stay outside,” McKinley reminded her. “But if people come, they'll never think to look here. It's the safest place.”

“What about dogs?”

“We've been walking in water. No scent.”

Lupin continued to gaze at the house. “I've never been in a . . . house before.”

Aspen cocked her head. “It won't be so bad.”

“How do you expect me to get into it?”

McKinley gazed at the wolf. “There's a back door. I left it open.”

Lupin turned toward him. “What's a door?”

“It's a flat board that swings and lets you into houses but keeps the weather out.”

Lupin shook her head, nothing more.

With much shoving and pulling, Aspen and McKinley eased Lupin onto the wooden surface behind the house.

McKinley nudged the back door open wider. He and Aspen went inside. Lupin hung back in the dark. “It stinks of people,” she growled.

Aspen stuck her head out of the door and licked the wolf's nose. “Lupin, you'll be safe. And warm.”

The wolf, her head low, tail bristling, sniffing in an agitated manner, moved cautiously forward. Once inside, she turned to look back at the door.

McKinley noticed. “When we leave, you can close the door, mostly. Just make sure you keep it open a crack. That way—if you have to—you can always get out.”

Lupin growled, “Where am I to sleep?”

“Most comfortable place in the world. Follow me.”

McKinley led the way into the far room.

“What's that?”

“A soft sleeping place,” Aspen barked. She jumped on it and began to pummel the thick covering with her paws. “Try it. It's really nice.”

“I don't need niceness,” Lupin grunted.

McKinley was beginning to feel weary. “Lupin, you can sleep anywhere you want.”

“What about food?” the wolf wanted to know. “Water?”

McKinley left the others and checked the water room. The low bowl was full of water. He came back. “Plenty of water up front. And we'll bring you food in the morning.”

Avoiding the soft sleeping place, a tense Lupin limped back into the room with the two doors. She sat awkwardly.

McKinley and Aspen started for the back door.

“McKinley! Aspen!” Lupin barked sharply.

The two dogs looked around.

The wolf had closed her eyes. “Have either of you ever lived in the forest?”

“No, neither of us.”

Lupin sighed. “Out there,” she growled softly, “in the wilderness, there are no walls. Overhead is the sun, or clouds, or the moon. At night there are as many stars in the sky as there are stones on earth. The moon glides between the trees before leaping up. Water runs free. Food is where you find it. What you eat you have earned because you have worked to catch it. You live in a river of many smells, smells that are constantly changing, that bring you news of the entire world. You are part of that world. Always.”

The wolf lay down, head resting on her forepaws. “But here . . .” she whimpered, “all is enclosed. Like . . . like an old nut in a hard shell.”

McKinley and Aspen remained still.

Lupin growled. “Why are you leaving me?”

It was Aspen who answered. “You couldn't stay where you were. But you can't come into town. And we need to be in our homes.”

“Why?” Lupin persisted.

McKinley whimpered. “The humans depend on us, too.”

Lupin shook her head, then closed her eyes.

After a moment Aspen and McKinley went toward the back door. “Remember,” McKinley warned, “don't shut the door completely. Otherwise you won't be able to get out.”

Lupin looked toward the front door. “That one is closed.”

Aspen shook her head. “You only need one way out.”

“Don't worry,” McKinley added. “You'll be perfectly safe.”

“McKinley! Aspen!”

They paused.

“If one of those people does come here,” Lupin growled, “I won't go easy.”

“No one will come.”

Aspen followed McKinley out onto the wooden surface. Once beyond the door, they waited.

Behind them, the door shut with a click.

Aspen looked around. “What's that click mean?”

McKinley sighed. “She shut the door too hard. It's locked.”

“Don't you think you should open it?”

McKinley thought a moment. “I can always use the window. Be better if she stays. She can't survive on her own. Not yet.”

Aspen gazed at McKinley, who only turned from her, toward the stream. In silence, they waded back into it, then took the dirt way toward town.

•  •  •

They had not traveled far before Aspen stopped. “Now that Lupin's safe, what do you intend to do?”

“Feed her until she's strong enough to return home on her own. Can you get some food? I'm going to be in big trouble about that when I get home.”

“I can try.”

As they trotted down their way, Tubbs, tail wagging, waddled toward them. “Where have you two been?” he barked.

Weary, McKinley sat. “Taking care of business.”

Tubbs drew closer but suddenly halted. His tail drooped. His nose wrinkled. “What's that smell?”

“The wolf.”

“Have . . . have you been with her?”

McKinley barked once.

“I sure hope she's gone.”

“Why?”

“Don't you remember? You asked me to go to the human's gathering? Well, I did.”

“And . . . ?”

“At their big meeting place there were lots of people. Lots of excitement. A few dogs, too. Redburn was there.”

“Tubbs, just tell us what happened,” McKinley snapped.

“I am, McKinley. But, you know how it is: I had to put together the words I understood. I'm pretty sure, though, a bunch of people are going to hunt that wolf. I mean, I heard the word
wolf
lots of times. Same for
hunt.
A few of those humans even brought
long guns to that meeting. So I think I got it right. And I'm pretty sure Redburn is supposed to lead them.”

McKinley and Aspen glanced at one another.

“When are they going?”

“I heard
tomorrow.
And
morning,
too. Did . . . did I do good, McKinley? Did I?”

“You did great, Tubbs. Thanks.”

McKinley turned to Aspen. “We better meet here tomorrow, early.”

“Oh!” Tubbs barked. “I forgot something.”

“What's that?”

“I think Pycraft is in charge of the hunt.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“He was doing most of the word saying. He sounded really angry.”

McKinley sighed. “I guess we'll just have to make sure nothing bad happens.” He turned toward his house. “See you in the morning.”

Both Aspen and Tubbs barked a good night.

McKinley opened the front door and trotted down the hallway toward the food place. Jack and his parents were sitting around their food platform.

McKinley, tail wagging, approached meekly.

“McKinley!” Jack cried. “Where you been, you
bad dog.
Stealing our dinner!”

All three humans looked at him severely.

“Now you know why it wasn't so great teaching him to open doors,” Gil said to Jack.

“I didn't!”

“Well, somebody did.”

McKinley felt obliged to hang his head and droop his tail.

“McKinley,” the female announced, “consider yourself in prison. Tomorrow, it's indoors for you. All day. You're grounded.”

Grounded.
That, too, was a word McKinley knew and understood.

M
cKinley lay on the floor of Jack's room, ears alert. Though he kept his head on his forelegs, his eyes were fixed upward on the pup.

The boy was in his soft sleeping place, a cloth over his body, head propped up by one hand. A light glowed over his head, and staring papers rested on his lump of softness. But the boy wasn't staring at the papers. He was gazing back at McKinley.

“McKinley,” he scolded in a whisper, “why did you
do
that?”

McKinley, wanting to cheer the boy up, wagged his tail a few times.

“Do you know how much I
love
pot roast?” the boy complained. “Do you have any idea how unusual that is around here? Like, once a month? Like, once a year?”

McKinley sighed. He did not know what the boy was saying, but he knew a scolding when he heard it.

“And another thing, McKinley,” Jack went on. “People know about the wolf. Dad said it all has to do with that dog, Duchess. And that you were there when they found her and the wolf. Is that true? Why didn't you take me? Now there's this hunt on to get the wolf tomorrow morning. A lot of stupid people are going. Like that nasty Mr. Pycraft. You know what
that
means?”

McKinley studied Jack's face, trying to make sense of the words he understood:
Wolf Dad. Found. Hunt. Pycraft.

“If I don't get to the wolf first,” the boy continued, “I'll never be able to go off with him. Those people will kill him. So guess what? I'm going tomorrow, really early. Before those hunters. See,
if I can get to the wolf, I'll warn him off, then follow him back to his pack. What do you think?”

McKinley had caught the words
go, get, find, kill, follow, home.
Was the boy going to look for Lupin the next day? Was that it? But why would he say
kill?

Suddenly, Jack jumped out of his sleeping place, went to his clothing storage box, and slid the door open. McKinley could see that the backpack was stuffed. And attached to the top was the bundle Gil crawled into when he slept outside.

“See,” the boy said to McKinley. “I'm ready to go.”

Ready
and
go.
Head cocked, McKinley looked from the backpack to the pup.

“Oh, McKinley, I wish you could understand me!” Jack cried. He pointed to his chest.
“Me.
I'm going to the
wolf. Tomorrow.”

This was what McKinley had understood before. The pup was going to Lupin. But now he seemed to be going
tomorrow.
Did that mean Jack knew where the wolf was hiding?

Horrified, McKinley whimpered and put a paw on the boy's arm to restrain him.

“I set my alarm for five o'clock,” Jack explained, squeezing the large paw affectionately. “But you can't go. You'd probably scare that old wolf, anyway.”

The pup returned to his soft place, got under the cloth, and clicked the light off. “Wish me luck, buddy,” he whispered in the dark.

Wagging his tail, McKinley pushed his snout forward and gave Jack a lick on the face.

“No, McKinley, you can't come with me,” the pup said. “You're a bad dog.”

Backing away, McKinley headed out of the room. Why was he bad? And how would he be able to keep the boy from running off to Lupin?

He padded his way into the food place, where he lapped up some water from his bowl. A faint smell of meat clung to the floor. Feeling guilty, he gave the spots a couple of licks.

In the front room the male and female were watching the fluttering glow box, which as always gave off a faint smell of burning. Why humans stared at it so much was something McKinley never had understood.

He lay down at the woman's feet, and rolled his eyes up at her. Why was she paying so little attention to her boy? How could he tell her what Jack was planning?

Sarah glanced down at him. “I hope you understand what you did, McKinley,” she said, sounding stern. “Though, I must admit, you are clever, putting the pot cover back on. I suppose you thought you could fool us. And you know what, McKinley? Keeping you in all day is going to be one big nuisance.”

The man, eyes fixed on the glow box, said, “Honey, McKinley doesn't understand a word you're saying.”

“Oh, probably more than we think,” she replied.

McKinley sat up and barked.

“See?” the female said with a laugh.

McKinley had an idea. If he could lead either the male or female to Jack's clothing box, they might see the backpack and understand what their pup was about to do. Why couldn't they be smarter? He took hold of Sarah's clothing and gave it a tug.