Waggit's Tale

by Peter Howe

  “I should’ve treated him different, Lowdown,” Tazar said. “I know I hackled him up, but I was so angry at the way he just abandoned his team. He was their leader, and he should’ve died for them.”

  “Like you said, boss, Tashi’s a bully,” replied Lowdown, “and the trouble with bullies is, they don’t listen to reason. They only respect power and Tashi’s got to realize now that he ain’t got none.”

  “But that’ll eat at him too. I was wrong,” said Tazar. “Tashi isn’t a loner and never will be. He’s a general without an army, and he’ll never rest until he gets one again.”

  The two dogs fell silent. It seemed to Lowdown that life in the park was a never-ending series of threats. Sometimes he felt so tired of meeting its daily challenges, and yet he really had no alternative. He was too old and had lived for too long as a team member to become a loner. Besides, he liked the Tazarians. And the only other way out was capture by the authorities and the uncertain future of the Great Unknown. So there was no use being downhearted.

  It seemed as if Tazar had read his mind.

  “There’s no use fretting about it now,” he said. “At least we’ve got Tashi off our backs for the time being. Let’s go join the others.”

  With the capture of Tashi’s team the rangers had pretty much abandoned their hunt for strays. It was now possible to move more freely throughout the park without worrying about wandering into Tashi’s territory. Even the weather moderated, causing small animals to come out of their holes and be hunted. The greater freedom of movement helped with the food supply in other ways as well. There were certain areas of the park where well-meaning humans came to feed the birds with small piles of bread, nuts, and sometimes pieces of bacon fat. While each pile of food was not great, if the team had access to all of them, it could make a difference. The only problem was that you had to fight off the birds for which they were intended. This wasn’t as easy as it sounds, and many a dog’s ear had been painfully pecked in the process. Since the bird food was usually too small for the dogs to transport back to the tunnel, Tazar allowed it to be eaten on the spot.

  The dogs scavenged in pairs, with Alona, always the odd dog out, joining up with whichever couple invited her. On one such day she was out with Waggit and Lowdown.

  She was a strange animal to be sure. She combined extreme shyness with a short temper, and had a habit of defending herself when nobody had attacked her. Despite this, Waggit liked her. She seemed honest, honorable, and was even, on rare occasions, funny. She always walked about three paces behind whomever it was she accompanied, and called everyone “sir,” except of course Magica and Alicia, to whom she hardly ever spoke.

  On this particular day Waggit and Lowdown had decided to familiarize themselves with the portion of their area that was formerly in Tashi’s territory. They were excited about being able to go as they pleased without always having to look over their shoulders. Of course, they still had to be wary of human beings in any form, and the police and park rangers in particular, but the dogs were used to this. They were trotting at a brisk pace down by the lake where the boats had been pulled up for the winter and now looked like sleeping turtles resting one upon another. Suddenly Alona stopped and sniffed the air. Because she was in her normal position behind them Waggit and Lowdown didn’t notice right away. Then they both turned to see her nose working furiously.

  “What’re you picking up, Alona?” asked Lowdown.

  There was no reply, just more furious sniffing, her head turning from side to side as she tried to locate the direction of the scent.

  “Alona, talk to me,” said Lowdown.

  “It’s around here somewhere, sir,” she said.

  “What is, Alona?” asked Waggit.

  More silence.

  Suddenly she moved forward swiftly, past the other two dogs, her head held high as she followed the scent.

  “This way,” she said. “Follow me.”

  Waggit and Lowdown did as she said, the two of them now several paces behind her. Then they could smell it as well, and the three of them started to run toward the unmistakable odor of meat.

  “It’s Stashi’s tash,” Alona said, panting from the exertion.

  “It’s what?” asked Lowdown.

  “I think she means Tashi’s stash,” said Waggit helpfully.

  “Let’s hope,” said Lowdown, for Alona showed no interest in correcting herself.

  She suddenly stopped. The scent was stronger now, but they couldn’t tell exactly where it came from. They were in a lightly wooded area near one of the roads that ran across the park. Getting an accurate fix on the source of the tantalizing meat smell was made more difficult by the light covering of snow that remained on the ground. Not only does snow have an odor all of its own, which humans can’t detect but dogs can, it also traps other scents, all of which added to a smelly confusion.

  “Yes, I think you’re right. We’re close, because I saw them bringing it here too,” Alona said.

  The problem with talking to loners was that they tended to carry on conversations inside their heads that they assumed you could hear. It was unnerving when she answered a question that nobody had asked.

  “You saw who bringing what where?” asked Lowdown, getting somewhat irritated.

  “Swag, sir,” she replied. “Stuff they got from the feeder. Lots of it.”

  “How did you see them?” asked Waggit.

  “You still think I’m a spy, don’t you?” She was suddenly angry. “You think that the reason I know where they took it is because I used to be one of them. Go on, admit it; I know what you’re thinking.”

  “Alona,” said Waggit patiently, “if I thought you were one of them because you knew where they took it, then you’d know where they took it, which, if you don’t mind me reminding you, you don’t, which is why we’re standing here trying to find where they took it.”

  Waggit’s grammar may have left a lot to be desired, but his logic was solid. “Oh,” was all Alona could say.

  In the meantime Lowdown had gone off to investigate a hole between the roots of a tree. Suddenly there was a sliding sound, a muffled cry, and Lowdown disappeared from sight. Waggit and Alona ran to the hole and peered in.

  “Lowdown-down-down, are-ar-ar you-ou-ou okay-ay-ay?” Waggit’s voice echoed as he stuck his head in the hole.

  “Okay?” Lowdown’s voice boomed back, sounding much bigger than usual. “I’m so okay I could spend the rest of my days in here. Come on in and see what I mean.”

  It was a much tighter squeeze for Waggit than for Lowdown, but the ice surface that had made Lowdown slide into the hole helped Waggit too. He landed with a thump onto a hard rock floor and looked around.

  “Oh my!” was all he could say.

  The two dogs were in a natural cave, but it wasn’t the cave itself that was remarkable, as much as its contents. There was meat, lots of it, in almost every form. There were sausages of all descriptions, slabs of bacon, packages of hot dogs and hamburgers, even a couple of steaks. For two carnivores it was the equivalent of heaven. The reason that the scent of meat was so strong was also apparent to the dogs. Some of it had either been put in the cave before the temperature dropped enough to preserve it, or it had already been rotten when it was “liberated” from the restaurant’s Dumpsters.

  Waggit looked around in awe.

  “Gordo will pass out with pleasure when he sees this,” he said.

  “For that to happen we’re going to have to make that hole a lot bigger,” Lowdown remarked with a snicker.

  Alona now stuck her head into the hole.

  “Pardon me for bothering, but are you both all right?” she asked. Then, as her eyes accustomed themselves to the darkness she said, “Goodness, I didn’t realize they had stashed this much. No wonder they always fought so hard to keep the feeder in their realm.”

  “There must be enough here to feed everyone in the park for the rest of the Long Cold,” Waggit said excitedly.

  “I only wish that
were true, little one,” said Lowdown in his wisest voice, “but it won’t even keep our team for long. It looks like a lot, but we have many mouths to feed, and, no, Alona, I’m not blaming you, accusing you, or whatever else that look you just flashed me meant.”

  Alona’s ears went flat on her head with embarrassment.

  “No, sir. I’m sorry, sir. I’ll be grateful for anything I get,” she said.

  “Let’s face it,” said Lowdown, “if it wasn’t for you we might not have found the stash in the first place, so in fact we’re beholden to you.”

  Alona muttered something about it being nothing at all, and that they were welcome, and then her head disappeared.

  “Great Vinda, you have to be careful what you say in front of her,” said Lowdown. “Talk about touchy!”

  “Well, you know, it takes a loner a while to adjust,” said Waggit. “They’re not used to being around other dogs.”

  “Oh,” said Lowdown, “and when did you become such an expert on loners?”

  “It was just something I heard.” It was Waggit’s turn to be embarrassed now. “I’ve been around a while now,” he continued defensively.

  “Yes, you have,” said Lowdown. “In fact you’ve been around in this cave much too long. We’ve got to get back to camp to tell the others about our discovery, and then haul it back to the Risingside.”

  Getting out of the cave was a lot harder than getting in. Waggit tried to stretch up and get a grip on the sides of the hole to pull himself out, but he couldn’t get high enough. He and Lowdown pushed a box of frozen hamburgers just below the hole, and this gave him enough of a paw-hold that he could pull himself out. For Lowdown, however, the situation was impossible, and they decided that Waggit and Alona should go back to the tunnel and get help, not just to get the food out of the cave, but Lowdown too.

  “You will be okay, won’t you?” asked Waggit. “We won’t be long.”

  “Take your time,” said Lowdown. “Don’t you worry about me. If necessary I’ll snack my way out of any emergency!”

  “Okay.” Waggit chuckled. “But don’t eat so much that we can’t get you through the hole.”

  When Waggit and Alona got back to the tunnel the whole team was there. Gasps of surprise and whoops of joy greeted the news of the discovery, and there was much praise of Alona for finding the hidden treasure. With each compliment she seemed to become more uncomfortable, so everyone concentrated on how to get the meat back to the camp.

  Transporting it wasn’t a problem; one of the Skurdies had left a broken milk crate near the camp. Gordo volunteered to push it over the ice and snow to the hole and back again. Tazar accepted his offer but wisely said that he thought another dog should go with him for protection. Whether it was for Gordo’s protection or the protection of the meat, the leader didn’t say, but most of the other dogs had their own ideas.

  The biggest problem was getting the food out of the hole and into the crate, and the only solution to this seemed to be putting both Waggit and Magica back down there. They would pass each piece up to Alicia. She had a long and elegant neck that would probably stretch deep enough into the cave to be able to retrieve the items from the mouths of the other two dogs. Alicia wasn’t too keen on this, because she thought the chances of getting dirty were pretty high, but she wanted her share of the food, so she reluctantly agreed. How they were going to get Lowdown out was undecided as they all trooped off to the Goldenside. Gruff stayed as a sentry to sullenly guard the tunnel until their return.

  The dogs ran ahead to the cave, leaving Gordo behind, puffing and panting as he pushed the milk crate with his nose. The problem was that it kept on sliding off in a different direction from the one that he had intended, so the faster he tried to push it, the slower he went. When they returned to the stash Tazar put his head into the hole. There was a short, muffled conversation with Lowdown that the others couldn’t hear, but when their leader pulled his head back out, he was frowning.

  “That’s quite a find,” he said. “In fact it’s almost too much of a find. There’s no way we can store all of that. We’re going to have to leave some of it behind.”

  Gordo, who had finally puffed his way up, suggested in a panic-stricken voice that he would enlarge their stash in order to take it all.

  “No way, Gordo,” said Tazar, “the ground’s frozen solid. Even your great paws couldn’t make any impression on it.”

  “Well,” he replied, “how about we eat all we can now and then take the rest?”

  “So we all end up sick,” said Tazar. “That’s a great idea!”

  “Does that mean no?” asked Gordo.

  “That means no,” said Tazar firmly.

  The dogs set about retrieving as much food out of the cave as they thought would fit into their smaller storage spot near the tunnel. When they had filled the milk crate nearly to the top, Tazar called a halt. However, the problem of reclaiming Lowdown still hadn’t been solved. The team was thinking about what to do next when Alona came back with a long, dead vine in her mouth. She dropped it in front of Tazar.

  “Would this help, sir?” she asked quietly.

  “Help?” exclaimed Tazar. “Help? It’s perfection. I never saw a finer solution to a problem in my entire life. The team thanks you profoundly!”

  “You’re welcome, sir,” Alona mumbled. Tazar was now busy organizing the rescue, ordering Cal, Raz, Magica, and Waggit to grab one end of the vine in their mouths, and instructing Lowdown to hold on tight to the end that had been lowered into the hole. Fortunately Lowdown had more than a little terrier in him, and once his jaws were clamped around anything, it was almost impossible to loosen them without his consent.

  Once everyone was in position, Tazar gave the dogs the order to pull. They did this somewhat overenthusiastically, and Lowdown popped out of the hole like a cork from a bottle and flew over their heads. He landed heavily on the grass and with a cry of “Ow!” let go of the vine, rolled over a couple of times, got up, shook himself, and sneezed, but was happy to be out.

  Tazar ordered everyone to cover the hole with branches and rocks, and then they started back to the tunnel. Gordo pushed the crate with enthusiasm, literally slobbering in anticipation of the evening meal. Cal, Raz, and Magica tried to steer it over the ice and snow, but whether they helped or hindered was debatable. Waggit, Tazar, and Lowdown followed their erratic progress, with Alona bringing up the rear, of course, and at some distance.

  When they arrived back at the camp they emptied the contents of the crate into their own stash, which was so small compared to the Tashinis’ that nobody would get stuck in it however short his or her legs were. Their haul filled the shallow hole to the top, even after taking out some of the meat for that night’s supper. Nobody seemed worried about this, because they all felt they could go back to the cave at any time for more.

  Waggit wasn’t so sure. It seemed to him that anything in an unguarded hole in the ground in a park full of hungry dogs could never be safe. Even though Alona had helped the Tazarians locate it, the fact of the matter was that it didn’t take too long to find it if you had a good nose. And apart from anything else, Tashi and Wilbur knew where it was.

  As their stash was being covered up again with branches, Waggit turned to the leader.

  “Tazar,” he said hesitantly.

  “Waggit?” Tazar replied inquisitively.

  “We left a lot of food there just now,” Waggit said.

  “Yes, we did,” the leader agreed.

  “Well, I was thinking, wouldn’t it be better if we moved into Tashi’s realm now that it isn’t Tashi’s realm anymore? That way we could guard the stash, and we’d have the feeder in our own realm when it opened up again.” He was nervous at making this suggestion. “It was just a thought.”

  “It was a very good thought,” said Tazar sincerely. He was impressed that Waggit was thinking strategically at such a young age. “There are two things a team needs,” he continued. “One is a safe place to sleep, and the other
is a good food supply. This place”—he nodded toward the tunnel—“took us a long time to find, and the reason it took a long time was because hardly anybody knew it was here, and that’s a good thing. You saw what Tashi’s camp was like, and it isn’t a coincidence that the Ruzelas got his team and not ours. If you can find a place as secure as this on the Goldenside, then we’ll move, but until then we stay put.”

  “But what about the stash? What about the feeder?” Waggit protested.

  “We can always find food somehow,” replied Tazar. “We always have, and we probably always will, but to find a camp like this—that’s a once-in-a-lifetime find.”

  Waggit felt strange about this conversation with the dog he admired most in this world, and he couldn’t work out why. Then the reason occurred to him—it was the first time he’d found himself disagreeing with Tazar. Little did he know that this was because he was growing up.

  11

  Two Puppies and a Misadventure

  And then the cold came. It was colder than Waggit ever thought it could be. The weather was clear and bright, with blue skies and sunshine, but the temperatures were icy. A constant, biting wind penetrated even the dogs’ thick winter coats. It was so cold that they slept in what they called “rotation.” Instead of each having their own space in which to stretch out, they huddled together in a circle in the middle of the tunnel. Because the inside of the circle was much warmer, the dogs in the center periodically got up and moved to the outside. This way each dog got a turn at being in the warmest place. The only problem with the system was that you had to climb over the other dogs to get to the outer edge. This was fine if the climber was Magica or Alona, but when either Gruff or Gordo made their way to the outside the other dogs sometimes wondered if the extra warmth was worth the pain.

  Even during the day, when they were moving around, it was miserable. There hadn’t been any more snow, and what was left from the last storm was now packed down hard and frozen solid. This made going anywhere extremely dangerous, for even long claws could get little grip on the slippery surface. There was always the risk of a broken leg, which is serious enough for dogs who live with people and can get the care of a veterinarian, but for the dogs in the park it could be a death sentence.