* * * * *
“Here!”
Kate laughed though Shasta paid little attention to her command and rolled in the grass. Her German Shepherd was a black and tan female, her coat tinged with a red admired by enthusiasts of the breed. Shasta was hardly more than a pup, and though bystanders might think the dog’s single talent to be the insistent licking of children, Kate believed much potential lay dormant in the pup. The children outside the fence laughed, and whatever concentration Shasta had allotted to Kate flew to the young audience.
But Kate smiled wide. Shasta did not move though Kate knew the dog wanted so badly to run and play with the children behind the fence. Shasta showed discipline and learning in that. Soon enough, Kate knew Shasta would show much more.
Still, Kate couldn’t help but think of Gyp. All the training and commands felt so easy with Gyp. She sensed him next to her as she returned to a waiting Shasta. She wondered if it might be something a little more than wind and memory that made Gyp still feel so close. She liked to think that Gyp’s soul could not resist a field’s temptation on a sunny afternoon when a crowd of children gathered to cheer a fine pack of dogs.
They had buried Gyp at the training field’s edges. A small plaque on the ground noted where he lay. Children told stories of how they felt a wet nose nudging them whenever they gathered around that spot to watch the dogs run.
Gyp had always loved the run.
Cat-Tooth Magic and Dog-Eared Miracles Page 5
