The Pup Who Cried Wolf

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The Pup Who Cried Wolf Page 3

by Chris Kurtz


  He thinks I don’t know what that means. I do. It means he’s going to make lots of babies with a girl rat.

  “Freedom,” I echo. “The kind wolves have.”

  “You’re obsessed with wolves,” says Hector.

  “At least I’m not obsessed with girls,” I tell him.

  “Gentlemen, no fighting,” says Glory. “Don’t act like backyard mutts and barn-raised vermin. Anyway, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Glory swings herself back right side up and turns to face us. “What’s wrong with protection? What’s wrong with style? Have you thought about teeth and claws and animals looking at you like you are a walking chicken nugget? Que loco. You two crazy birds go ahead and get back to your roots. Just don’t call me when your stomach starts grumbling and winter is just around the corner.”

  Glory turns her back and starts whistling to show that the conversation is over.

  “What was that all about?” I say to Hector.

  “How sad.” Hector shakes his head. “All the wild has been drained out of her system.” He fluffs himself up and walks around his cage on two feet. “What about teeth and claws and yackety-yackety-yak!” It’s a perfect imitation.

  That night, Mona and I cuddle on the motel bed and look at photo albums. There’s the mountain lake from last year’s family reunion. Nice, but no Yellowstone Park! There’s Mona’s dad and his motor home where we slept. There’s Mona’s sister.

  And there … I wince. Under all the grime, it’s a little girl, perhaps. Red hair. A smile that’s too big for the face. And what is that in her arms? A doll in a frilly pink dress with a dog’s head? A small dog’s head? Actually, not too small … it’s me!

  Alexandra. Mona’s niece. She’s a fearsome little thing that even a wolf would want to stay far away from.

  I let my head sink down on my paws. Maybe she won’t be there this time.

  Yellowstone isn’t a big attraction for some kids. She might be staying with friends. Or her friends might come too, and she’ll be too busy playing with them and won’t have time to dress up her auntie’s Chihuahua in doll clothes. Or she might be too old for dolls any longer. But probably she won’t even be there.

  Yes. Almost definitely she won’t be there. I decide not to worry about it. Even Alexandra can’t ruin my mood for long.

  8

  Into the Heart of Wolf Country

  Anyone with a good nose and a wild heart can feel the change. I know it the moment we cross the line. Wilderness. I can feel it in my teeth.

  Also it helps that there is a big wooden sign that says YELLOWSTONE NATIONAL PARK, and a Yellowstone National Park ranger station with a sign that says YELLOWSTONE NATIONAL PARK RANGER STATION. And the other thing that helps me figure out where we are is the ranger who comes out to the car and says, “Welcome to Yellowstone National Park.”

  The ranger sounds all friendly, but he turns out to be a rude sort. “Oh, a killer dog,” he says when he sees me. He tells Mona to keep the windows up as soon as we leave the ranger station. He probably knows I’ll hate that. He says don’t feed the bears. Then he mentions some silly law. “Keep your dog on a leash at all times inside the park.”

  Umm, how am I going to meet my wolf pack on a leash?

  “Usually we say that to protect the smaller wildlife such as squirrels.” The ranger is still talking. “But in his case, the squirrels might just mistake him for one of their babies that fell out of the tree, carry him back upstairs, and stuff him full of nuts.”

  Ha, ha, ha. Oh boy. I am so done with this guy. I give him a taste of my rapid-fire barking to show what I think of him.

  “Keep the noise down,” he says. “Otherwise, I’ll have to get out my flyswatter.”

  Mona starts laughing, and Glory, who has been quiet up till now, starts giggling. And then I hear a snigger. Heckles. That’s it. I’m finished with this family and ready to find my pack.

  Somehow.

  Someway.

  Leash or no leash, I am going to escape.

  The ranger obviously likes being Mr. Funny, and he leans down to talk a little longer to Mona.

  “Keep an extra close watch on him. We’ve got mosquitoes in the park that could carry him off and feed him to their young.” I turn my back on the ranger. He probably has a shriveled-up heart from living so close to the wilderness and not being a brother to anything wild at all. I drop to the floor and slump down with my head on my paws. We’ll just see how my fellow travelers like having the best traveler in the bunch go on a major pout.

  The problem is, when we get moving again, I want to smell everything. I hop back up on the seat. It’s not easy pouting when you’re this excited. Unfortunately, Mona has listened to the ranger and is carefully following the rules. The only air is coming through Mona’s air-conditioning system. I start whining and whimpering.

  That doesn’t get the window to come down, so I put my slobber setting on high and go to work licking the windows. That almost always works, but not today. Today all I get is Mona telling me she’s going to stick me in the backseat. That gets my tongue back in my mouth pretty quick. There is a powerful odor of rat pee coming from back there, and it isn’t getting any fresher with the windows rolled up.

  We drive slowly, and pretty much the only thing to see is the big butt of the motor home crawling along ahead of us. Finally we turn into a campsite. I start whining and slobbering again. I can’t help it, I’m so excited.

  “There’s Mom and Dad’s motor home,” Mona says. “And oh look, there’s little Alexandra.”

  I stop slobbering. I stop whining. I stop breathing.

  No! It can’t be. How could her parents let her come to a wild place like this?

  Alexandra is not hard to spot. Just look for the critter with more energy than a gerbil on an exercise wheel and more freckles than common sense. We see her before she sees us, which is a good thing. I drop down out of sight.

  “You’re so lucky.” Mona reaches over and scratches my ears. “She loves animals extra-much.”

  Hector moans a little rat moan.

  “Que problema,” says Glory from behind her towel. She and Hector and I have all had experience with Alexandra who loves animals extra-much. My last memory of the little darling was me hanging upside down, her grubby little hand holding me by my left hind leg.

  “You three are in for a good time,” says Mona. “No brothers or sisters. No pets allowed in her apartment, poor thing. She loves you guys!”

  Less love. Please, less love! As we pull into the campsite, I peek over the windowsill. Poor thing jumps up and knocks over her chair. She shrieks and comes running with her pigtails flying. Alexandra looks just as wild as ever. In fact there is only one difference I can see from the last time I was dangled like a chew toy in her hands.

  She’s bigger.

  “Prepare for the attack.” I jump into the backseat. The passenger side door is ripped open before Mona can even stop the car.

  “Did you bring Lobo?” Alexandra shrieks. She has a voice that could scramble an egg.

  I scurry down to the floor to hide.

  “Grab the dog,” says Hector. “Please grab the cute little dog.”

  A freckly, nail-chewed hand reaches behind the chair and latches on to me.

  “Oooh, he’s so cute, Aunt Mona.”

  No amount of digging into the carpet helps.

  “Be kind,” says Mona.

  Alexandra pulls.

  “Be careful,” says Mona.

  Alexandra hauls. I’m being reeled in like a fish on a line. Backward.

  “Alexandra, be gentle,” says Mona.

  I’m dragged out of my hiding spot. There’s nothing kind or careful or gentle about this. I’m about to be hoisted into the air by my left hind leg.

  “Alexandra, no!” Mona’s voice reminds me of my puppy days, when I thought it might be fun to piddle on her shoe. But it’s too late.

  Being upside down is starting to feel very familiar.

 
; 9

  Loving Lobo

  Mona scrambles out of the car and dashes around to the other side. It is my secret dream to watch Alexandra get a swat on the hindquarters with Mona’s appointment book. And then Mona might remind Alexandra that I am a dangerous creature with wild ancestors who can never be fully trusted around small children.

  Instead, “I know you’re not used to animals, sweetie,” is all Mona says. “Here. Let me show you.”

  Mona’s soothing hands get me right side up. It’s good of her to try, but “sweetie” has been up to these same tricks longer than I can remember. Glory tells stories about Alexandra that happened before Hector and I were even born. The minute Mona turns her back, I’m in trouble.

  Now that I’m upright, I get hugged in the much-too-tight way.

  “Easy, honey,” says Mona.

  Easy, honey? How about bad girl! Bad, bad girl. My ear is crushed against Alexandra’s bony chest so hard I can hear the drumbeat of her heart.

  “You have to be very, very kind to my little family.” Mona reaches down and eases my position. “Okay, Alexandra? Promise?”

  “Okay, Aunt Mona. I promise.” Alexandra pats my head. “Sorry, Lobo.”

  “Now, you wait right here,” Mona says, “and hold Lobo very gently while I say hello to everyone.”

  Uh-oh. Mona is turning away to get hugs from her mother and father and sister. Alexandra is not waiting right here. I have a bad feeling about this.

  At least Alexandra is holding me gently now. But she takes me straight to her tent. I see a familiar box. A box filled with beads and scarves and ribbons and bows.

  “Lobo.” Alexandra gives me a mostly gentle hug. “You are going to be the best-looking one at the whole ball!”

  Best-looking? This doesn’t sound so bad.

  “Aunt Mona, come play with me!” Alexandra hollers into my ear. “I’m the princess and Lobo wants to be my long-lost twin sister!”

  I change my mind. Lobo does not want to go to the ball or be anyone’s twin sister, and she … he does not care any longer if he is the best looking. Fortunately, Mona understands the emergency and comes running.

  Unfortunately, Mona does not put an end to the game but instead joins in. For a half hour that seems like forever, I am the lovely sister to Princess Alexandra. She ties strings of plastic pearls and leopard print scarves around my neck.

  Mona spends most of her time saying things like, “Not too tight, honey.” Or “Be gentle, angel.” Or “Sweetheart, I don’t think Lobo likes it when his dress gets tangled around his legs.”

  Let me tell you. Lobo does not like that at all!

  Finally it is time to go to the ball. After being introduced to all the handsome princes, Alexandra picks up my front paws and we go dancing about. Mona giggles and keeps busy by following us and loosening the items around my neck that I can’t help stepping on.

  Finally the little monster’s mother calls.

  “Off you go, princess,” Mona says to Alexandra. “It’s supper time. You can finish loving Lobo later.”

  Oooh, so much to look forward to. Thanks, Mona.

  Alexandra’s little feet pad off to the table.

  “Okay, twin sister,” Mona says to me. She looks at me and giggles. “You haven’t had so much attention since you were a puppy. You must love this.”

  Honestly, the ball, the dancing, the strings of pearls winding around my feet … not really my thing. Thank goodness Mona stayed close by. She manages to get my beautiful scarves removed, and I get a tummy party and a back scratch for my trouble. Things are looking up, and for a moment I think I might even get a little bit of leash-free exploration time.

  Sadly, Mona has not forgotten the ranger’s rules. She clips a chain to my collar just as I am making up my mind which way to run. The chain is attached to the bottom step of the large motor home, and Mona disappears before I even remember to pout.

  My chain is long enough for me to hop up inside the motor home to find Hector and Glory, who are side by side in their cages on the floor.

  “He’s still alive,” says Glory, giving me a slight wave with one wing, “and not much worse for the wear.”

  “Oooh, he’s so cute!” says Hector in a high girl voice.

  “And thank you for your support,” I tell Hector. “With any luck it will be your turn after supper.”

  I throw myself down between Hector and Glory. Even though they aren’t anything like a wolf family, it feels good to be back with these two.

  Luck turns out to be on my side. In between supper and s’mores, Alexandra asks Mona to unhook the door to Hector’s cage. She hauls him out by his tail, with Mona trying to show her how to be kind, and carries him away. In spite of myself, I feel just a tiny bit sorry for him.

  “I’ll be next,” says Glory with a heavy sigh.

  There’s nothing I can say.

  At bedtime, Alexandra comes stomping up the stairs of the motor home with Hector in her hands, complaining that she isn’t even tired. She might not be, but I can tell that Hector is going to get a good night’s sleep.

  “Oh, my aching ears,” he complains as he is dumped back into his cage. Mona latches the door behind him, and he hugs the wires with his little hands. “Home sweet home.”

  “We need a plan,” I say.

  “Exactly.” Hector throws himself down in a corner. “You two make a plan while I sleep off the agony. I’m counting on you.”

  In another moment he is snoring. Glory and I look at each other. She doesn’t look like she has any more ideas than me—and I have zero.

  Then far out in the distance I hear something that makes the hairs on the back of my neck sit up and pay attention. It’s the howl of a wolf. It is not the bad brakes on a garbage truck. It is not my imagination. It is a wolf and I can tell that Glory hears it too.

  I start to shiver so hard from excitement that I can hardly get my next words out. “I’m p-p-pretty sure we could learn a thing or two about getting out of a tight spot from w-w-wolves.”

  “I’m afraid a wolf’s set of skills will not help you right now,” says Glory.

  “How do you know? Have we tried slashing with fangs and going for the jugular?”

  “I tried a bite or two when I was a younger bird,” says Glory. “Trust me. Mona wants Alexandra to learn how to treat us well. But Alexandra is family for Mona. She does not want Alexandra harmed in the process.”

  I listen for more wolf calls, but the night is quiet except for crickets.

  “If I was with the wolves, I wouldn’t have these problems,” I say.

  “Wolves have problems,” says Glory. “Do you think wild creatures have it easy?”

  I don’t answer Glory. But I know she has me figured out all wrong. Maybe some dogs are happy with the soft life. But not this dog.

  Not a dog in the land of his ancestors.

  Not a dog who is determined to find his pack even if he is a little on the small side.

  Not small, exactly. A little undersized, maybe.

  Mona comes in. She rubs my tummy, scratches Glory under her neck feathers just where she likes it, and wakes up Hector to give him a peanut. Then she goes to the back of the motor home to sleep.

  It’s quiet except for the night sounds. I let my mind fly away to the windswept hill where the howl came from. The wolves are howling and dancing around another, smaller wolflike guy. They are waiting for the signal only he can give.

  Then the leader raises his head. His howl floats over the trees, and all the animals of the forest turn to listen.

  10

  Lobo, Was That You?

  “Are you awake?” Two big, blue eyes in the middle of a small face and a tangle of uncombed hair are the first things I see in the early morning light. It scares me so much I almost pitch off the couch where I’ve made my bed. But I can’t, because there are two hands around my middle.

  “Stay right here with me and I’ll rock you to sleep,” Alexandra says.

  Do I have a choice? She wraps
me in a doll’s blanket and holds me up to her shoulder and leans her head down until her bird’s-nest hair covers my nose.

  “Hush, baby,” she says. “Mommy will wash all the nightmares out of your head.” She starts to rock and hum. “Shhhh. You’re safe with me.”

  Well, too bad we don’t share the same opinion about that. I squirm to let her know I’d rather be free, but there is no letting up of her grip. Alexandra switches me over to the other shoulder and pats my back. “Do you need to burp?”

  Umm. Thank you for asking, but no. This calls for action. I can always bark really loudly to get some attention from the adults. But I have a better idea. I whine.

  I’m pretty sure none of the sleepyhead adults in the back rooms want to clean up Chihuahua piddle on their nice motor home rug because they waited too long to let the poor guy out.

  I don’t hear anything so I whine again. Sure enough, a puffy-eyed Mona appears at the door. “Alexandra?” She blinks a few times. “What are you doing?”

  “Nothing.”

  I bark so that Mona knows that the nothing under the doll’s blanket is me.

  “Alexandra, why are you holding Lobo? Remember, you’re supposed to wait for me before you hold him, so I can make sure you’re being safe.”

  “I think Lobo was having a nightmare,” says Alexandra.

  Oh no he wasn’t. Not until you decided to wake him up.

  “Besides, I just love your family so much, Aunt Mona. It’s hard for me not to hold them.”

  I struggle out of the doll’s blanket and out of Alexandra’s hands and land right at Mona’s feet.

  “I know you do, honey,” says Mona, “but it’s really early. Let’s take Lobo outside for a potty break and then go back to bed for a while.”

  “Okay.” Alexandra jumps up. “Aunt Mona, you’re my favorite.”

  After breakfast and after two hours of hide-and-seek, kick the can, and freeze tag, favorite Aunt Mona looks dusty and tired. She decides to take a shower and then go for a sightseeing ride around the park. Alexandra says she wants to come too, but Mona tells her that she needs to have a little family time. I think Mona just needs to get away from Alexandra for a while.

 

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