by Peter Howe
“I really don’t know what’s going to become of that boy,” Gruff complained. “He doesn’t seem to have a brain between his ears, and as for his manners…” Gruff’s voice trailed off as if Gordo’s manners were beyond description. “But when you get to my age,” he continued, “nothing seems as good as it used to be, particularly the way young puppies behave.”
This last remark was directed toward Waggit and was accompanied by a stern look.
“Well,” Gruff sighed, “might as well face up to whatever discomforts the day will bring. Best to meet them head-on, I always say, except for the ones that take you by surprise early in the morning.”
And on that note of disapproval he slowly walked away with the limp that only seemed to bother him when he was feeling truly sorry for himself.
Gruff’s departure left five dogs on the hill. Two of them, Cal and Raz, had spent most of their time doing what they did best: wrestling with each other, rolling over and over until they were both covered in dead leaves, bits of twig, and a lot of mud. They had called a time-out through sheer exhaustion, and now, their tongues hanging out, they stood looking toward Tazar for something else to do.
“I’m going to the Skyline End,” Tazar said, nodding toward the tall buildings that fringed one end of the park. “Yesterday I saw lots of Uprights digging holes with those big scooper machines that eat the earth. Uprights that dig holes always have a lot of food. Besides, I want to see what they’re doing. I mean, once they start, you never know where they’ll dig holes next. You two coming?” he said to Cal and Raz. They were still panting too much to say anything but nodded their heads in agreement.
“What about us, boss? Me and Waggit?” said Lowdown, who, like many short people, was always sure that he was being left out of things.
“You take Waggit and show him the park. Show him where to go and where not to go. Show him what a Ruzela looks like, and where Tashi’s ground is, but don’t go too close.”
“Okay, boss.” Lowdown could not hide the disappointment in his voice.
“And, Lowdown, find out if he can hunt.”
“I’ll do my best,” he said without much enthusiasm.
“Are you all right with that, Waggit?” Tazar asked the puppy.
“Yeah, that’s great, ’cause I want to see if I can find my own…Upright. He’ll probably be looking for me.”
Waggit had been about to say “owner” but had caught himself just in time. He hoped they hadn’t noticed, but he suspected, from the way they ignored what he said, that they had.
“We’ll be off then,” said Tazar. “You two take care of yourselves, and have a nice day.”
Tazar, Cal, and Raz went down the hill, running at full tilt until they disappeared from sight.
Lowdown looked at Waggit. “What do you want to do first?” he asked.
Waggit wasn’t used to making decisions. Until yesterday everything had been planned for him; his life had been ordered and easy.
Sensing this, Lowdown said, “I’d better show you the lines.”
He took a stick in his mouth and carefully dragged it through the mud to make a map. He outlined a long, thin rectangle, and about two thirds of the way up, he drew a large blob.
“Aserigawter,” he said with the stick still in his mouth.
“Pardon?” said Waggit.
Lowdown dropped the stick and repeated, “That’s the Bigwater.”
“Oh,” said Waggit, as the mapmaker looked down to see that the Bigwater had just become bigger, on account of the stick landing on it. It now took up nearly all the rectangle.
“Tell you what, I’ll draw all the lines and then tell you what they are.”
On a new rectangle he marked the big blob again, and about a third of the way up he drew a smaller one, with two even smaller ones beside it. At the top end there were three blobs all joined together, and he finished up with a tiny one in the very bottom corner. When he was done he threw away the stick with a toss of his head.
“Now pay attention,” he said. “This is the Bigwater, and this here”—he pointed to the second biggest blob—“is the Deepwater, where the Uprights go floating in big wooden shells. We go floating there, too, when it’s warm enough, only we don’t need the shells. Now this here’s the Goldenside, where Tashi lives, and this part’s the Risingside, where we live, and that’s the Skyline End. That’s dangerous. Lots of Uprights and lots of Ruzelas. This end’s the Deepwoods, and that’s safer because there’s more cover and hardly any Uprights.”
Lowdown paused and looked at the worried frown on Waggit’s face.
“Are you getting all this?” he asked.
“Yes…well, no,” Waggit replied.
“What don’t you understand?”
“You say that this is the Bigwater, but it’s not. The Bigwater’s over there; you can almost see it from here. This isn’t water anyway; it’s just a bit of mud.”
“No, no, no. I’m not saying this is the Bigwater. I’m saying this is what the Bigwater looks like. If you was a flutter, and you was fluttering about in the sky, and you looked down on the park, this is what it would look like.”
At this point Waggit was frowning so much in his efforts to understand that his forehead actually hurt. Lowdown stomped his paws somewhat angrily on the muddy drawing and said, “I think we’re going to have to take you around and show you places, ’cause I don’t know what other things you’re good at, but getting lost sure is one of them.”
3
Cal’s Calamity
The two dogs set off on the journey of education and exploration. Waggit was happy to be out in the open parkland. The dangers of yesterday were less frightening today, and he felt sure that, whatever happened, Tazar could be relied upon to put things right. He liked Lowdown. The little dog seemed brave and smart, someone who wouldn’t abandon you if things went wrong. But the thing that was uppermost in Waggit’s mind was the hope of finding his master.
As they left the hill behind, Lowdown seemed much more nervous. The smallest noise made him prick up his ears or stop suddenly. He kept to the edge of the paths, going at a steady but fast pace, not exactly running, but making sure they never stayed in one place too long. There were more Uprights around now, and every time they came near one, Lowdown would branch off into the field or woods to avoid them. When this happened he continued with the same steady trot, his head always forward, never meeting the human’s eyes. Waggit looked up each time, hoping to see the friendly face of his master.
They had gone down the Risingside, past the tunnel, past the Bigwater, over a bridge where cars rumbled below, and across a small field with the horse path on one side and the road on the other, when Lowdown stopped. He listened for a few seconds, then raced up a low hill, plunged into some bushes, and lay flat. Waggit followed closely behind, crawling on his stomach until their heads met.
“What’s happening?” Waggit began, but Lowdown silenced him with a soft growl. Then Waggit heard the clopping sound of two horses being ridden by park rangers along the path directly below where the dogs lay hidden. As slowly and quietly as possible, Lowdown began to edge away from their vantage point, with Waggit close on his tail, until both dogs were free of the undergrowth that had protected them and in open ground. Then they ran as fast as their legs would allow to a clearing where a large rock hung over the Deepwater. Here they stopped to catch their breath.
It was a few minutes before they were able to speak without panting. Finally Waggit said, “Who were they, those Uprights?”
“Ruzelas. Ruzelas on longlegs. Holy Bones, those longlegs are stupid. I thought petulants were pretty stupid, but at least they don’t let Uprights bounce around on their backs like that.”
“Did they see us, the Ruzelas?”
“No, but longlegs are dangerous. They’re fast, faster than any of us. A Ruzela on a longleg is about the only thing in the park that even Alicia can’t outrun.”
The sun was filtering through the bare branches of the trees and gen
tly warming the rock upon which they lay. Waggit rested his head on his front paws, sighed, and was quite happy to stay in this spot, which seemed comfortable and safe. Lowdown had other plans, but inside his head the plans and his conscience were having a battle.
He wanted to be with Tazar, Cal, and Raz, for wherever those three were there was always fun and excitement. He realized that he couldn’t run as fast as they could, but he was smart and cunning, and had good ideas, all of which he thought should count for something more than puppy-sitting!
Not that he had anything against Waggit, who seemed nice but at the moment was deadweight as far as Lowdown was concerned. Apart from being very young, up until yesterday Waggit had been a pet. Lowdown could just imagine him lying on his back with his legs in the air, waiting for his stomach to be tickled. The thought sent a shudder through the older dog’s body.
Lowdown wanted to go down to the Skyline End to join the other three, but Tazar had put him in charge of Waggit, who was not yet a team dog and did not have team dog instincts. To take an animal like this to the Skyline End would be dangerous. He finally decided on a compromise.
“I think we should show you some more of the park,” he said to Waggit as casually as he could.
Waggit, who had nearly fallen asleep, woke up suddenly, and said, “Well, okay, if it’s not too much bother.”
“No, I think it will be good for you. We’ll go to the Skyline End first. Now that part of the park is a bit tricky on account of the number of Uprights and Ruzelas that are always there. So what we’ll do is go round the Deepwater on this side, where there’s more woods, then cut across the path by the road, and then a bit farther on there’s a big rock that you can get a real good view from. I can point out all the things you should know and we won’t have to go into the worst bits at all.”
Although this didn’t sound like a particularly great plan to Waggit, it did sound a lot better than going into the worst bits, so he agreed. Lowdown himself didn’t think it was one of his best ideas, but it was all he could come up with for now. At least he would be able to find out what was going on at the Skyline End, and with a bit of luck he would spot the Tazarians and see what they were doing.
And so they set off. When they got to it, the big rock was huge, and it sat in the ground at a crazy angle, like an old man’s tooth. It was hard to climb because their claws kept slipping on its hard gray surface, but they finally got to the top, where they rested and admired the view of the Skyline End. From here they could see the tall buildings, the people, and the roads, where cars and yellow taxis snaked their way along. On one side was the area where the children played, swinging, screaming, and fighting, for all the world like puppies. On the other side were the workers that Tazar had mentioned, and their huge machines that smashed and scooped the earth. They were big men, many with large stomachs, and they wore hard hats on their heads, some bright red, others blue. Their machines were silent now, resting in the middle of the day, and the men were sitting around eating food that they had brought from home in brown paper bags or shiny metal lunch boxes. They were relaxed and laughing as they ate and drank.
Suddenly Waggit’s ears went up. “Look,” he said, “there’s Tazar, Cal, and Raz.”
“Where? I don’t see them.” Lowdown peered, straining to see with his older eyes.
“There, you see, where the longlegs are.”
A line of carriage horses stood waiting for customers, stomping their feet and blowing streams of hot air through their large nostrils. Tazar, Cal, and Raz moved past them in the same way that Lowdown went through the park, at a steady pace, ears down, tails between legs, looking straight ahead and making eye contact with nobody.
“Okay, I see them. I think they’re coming this way. We’ll join them when they get here.” Lowdown was pleased that his plan had worked out so well.
The three dogs did appear to be coming toward the big rock. They were now at the point where the path came closest to the diggers. Suddenly Cal broke away from the other two, and with an astonishing burst of speed dashed toward one of the open boxes full of food. There was a shout of anger from the Upright whose box it was, but Cal was too quick for him. He was now racing back to the other two with a huge sausage in his mouth. He would have got away with it had he not dropped his prize halfway to safety. At this point he was going at such speed that he should have left it there and rejoined his friends, but having made the swipe, and motivated by a deep hunger, he turned and went back.
Again he nearly made it, but just as he was about to pick up the sausage one of the men threw something that landed within inches of it with the crashing sound of breaking glass. A white froth foamed up from the shattered bottle and quickly turned crimson as Cal, unable to stop in time, trod on a shard of glass that cut deep into the pads of his front paw.
He let out a howl of pain, and ran back to Tazar and Raz as fast as his remaining three legs would take him, leaving a trail of blood as he went. The workman came forward, picked up the sausage with one hand, and with the other took a long stick from a pile on the ground. The other men, seeing what had been going on, also picked up sticks and rocks and advanced menacingly on the dogs.
As soon as Tazar saw the danger he leapt in front of Cal, his black hackles standing up in an angry mane, his top lip pulled back in a vicious sneer, showing long white fangs. His brown eyes blazed with hatred and contempt for these creatures on two legs that dared to injure one of his brothers. The dog’s fury stopped the men in their tracks. Raz joined Tazar, and the two of them made stabbing little forays, testing the enemy’s courage.
“Let’s go,” said Lowdown. He hurled his little body down the rock and across the open ground in a straight line toward his companions. Waggit followed and overtook the small brown dog in no time. He got to where Cal was limping across the field, and saw the pain in the injured animal’s eyes. He was about to join Raz and Tazar when he caught sight of the man’s face. It was so full of contempt and anger that Waggit could not move, his legs frozen by fear, his tail swishing back and forth with anxiety.
Lowdown came barreling up, panting so hard that he could barely speak.
“Go on,” he urged, “help them.”
Still Waggit could not move.
“Can’t you see, Waggit?” said Lowdown. “They’re terrified of us. Go in and help. You’ll come to no harm.”
Summoning all the courage he had, Waggit joined the other two, snapping and snarling, and although he was ready to retreat at full speed in an instant, he helped put up a good enough show to stop the Uprights in their tracks, giving Lowdown and Cal time to get away.
“Under the wooden bridge by the Deepwater,” Lowdown yelled as they made good their escape. “Meet us there.”
The three remaining dogs held their ground for several minutes longer until Tazar said, “Run.” And run they did, faster than the wind, their legs stretched as far as they would go, ears and tails flying, leaving the Uprights foolishly standing with sticks in their hands and nothing to shake them at.
Under the bridge, Lowdown and Cal stood in the stream that fed the Deepwater. The water was cool and soothed Cal’s damaged paw. By the time the others caught up with them it was bleeding less, but a shard of green glass was still embedded in the pad.
“Did they follow you?” he asked Tazar.
“No! We scared them good. The only danger is if they tell the Ruzelas. They’d love it: ‘Wild Dogs Attack Innocent Uprights.’ It’d give them a great excuse to come looking for us.”
“I know,” said Cal miserably. “We’re going to have to lay low for a couple of days.”
His ears and tail drooped with guilt. He’d broken every rule, and he knew it. Never swipe food directly from humans, but wait until they leave it or throw it away; never challenge humans on their own ground, but retreat, reassemble, and rethink your plan; most important of all, never do anything without telling your brothers and sisters what you’re going to do, and always make sure that they’re prepared for anyt
hing that might happen. What with the pain and the guilt, he felt really sick. He turned to his leader.
“Tazar, back there, you know, I, well…”
“Stow it, Cal. I’ve been that hungry, too,” Tazar said.
“I wasn’t even really hungry. I mean, we ate yesterday, but that sausage smelled so good. I wanted it more than anything in the world.”
“I know,” said Tazar. “We haven’t been eating too well lately. Still,” he added cheerfully, thumping his tail against Waggit’s back, “our little brother here got his first blood today, in a manner of speaking. Maybe his second’ll be killing a nice fat scurry, but what we’ve got to do now is get that paw fixed and get you back to the tunnel.”
Waggit watched as Raz gently took hold of the loose skin at the back of Cal’s neck, and held it firmly in his mouth. Then Cal held up his paw, and Lowdown carefully took hold of the shard of glass between his front teeth. There was a soft yelp as the little dog pulled it out and spat it in the water. Tazar came around, and while Cal held up his paw the leader licked it with his large, pink tongue. After a while he stopped and looked at Waggit.
“Come here and lick your brother’s wound,” he ordered.
“Me?” said Waggit. “Lick?”
“Sure, it’s good for it. It has healing powers,” said Tazar.
So Waggit did as he was told. He could feel the roughness of the pad on his tongue, and taste the saltiness of the blood in his mouth. Tazar inspected the wound with all the pomposity of a doctor and proclaimed it good enough. Cal then splashed his way to the mud on the bank and buried his foot in the softest part to seal the cut and stop the bleeding.
Tazar’s main concern now was to organize their safe return to the tunnel. There were two problems. The first they faced every day, which was that five dogs without an owner were seen as a threat. The other problem was that they had lost their greatest advantage—speed. Therefore their route had to be through the most densely wooded and least-used parts of the park. Where cutting across open ground was unavoidable, it was to be done as swiftly as possible, one by one, each dog waiting on the other side until they were all together again.
