by K. T. Tomb
***
Nestled at the edge of the very same forest was a small blue house, a house where another canine birth was in progress.
The small mother dog curled around her puppies in a cardboard box at the back of the Andersons’ garage. The poodle had labored through the night at the same rate and time as her canine cousin who labored deep in the forest. When the sun rose, casting squares of sunlight onto the living room carpet, the people of the house began to rise, too. The coffee pot gurgled to life automatically, sending the scent through the house to awaken the humans of the abode.
“What day is it?” Mrs. Anderson muttered as she drifted into wakefulness.
“Saturday,” her husband replied with equal alertness, or lack thereof.
“What is that sound?” she asked.
From beneath their bedroom, in the garage, came a muffled cacophony of newborn yips and muted barks from the mother dog.
Mr. Anderson sat up and rubbed his face. He pulled on the tee shirt that lay on the nightstand next to the bed, swung his feet to the floor and stretched his arms over his head.
“I hear it,” he said. “After I’ve had a cup of coffee, I’ll take a look.” He stood and shuffled his way to the bathroom.
The woman stood and pulled on her robe. She rubbed her eyes, happy that the weekend had arrived. She had a little work to do, but she could put that off until the afternoon. She would get a cup of coffee and then check in on Bree. Her purebred miniature poodle had gotten sullied by a roaming mongrel and they had been waiting for her to drop the litter. If they could dispose of the pups quietly, they would still be able to present her as a breeding dog. Her bloodline had remained pristine up until the incident. They couldn’t take them to the pound as that required an exchange of information and a lie that the mother dog had died. If word got out, their reputation would be ruined.
“Oh, Bree,” Mrs. Anderson said after opening the garage door. The expensive plush corduroy dog bed lay untouched. The small white dog curled around her litter on top of the cardboard box housing a pile of old towels. The mother dog raised her head and yipped a greeting to her human. She had whelped two puppies through the night, a small litter, but she felt the surge of maternal pride and hoped her human would accept them into their small family. The puppies climbed over each other, both bearing the short, curled fur of their mother. Mrs. Anderson noticed, however, that the shape of their muzzles and eyes looked different from the diminutive lines of the mother’s face. They had more of a sleek visage. It was difficult to know immediately what breed may have fathered them. Bree’s tail wagged with happy anticipation of the human’s acceptance of her pups.
Mrs. Anderson pulled her robe closed against the morning chill, cupping her hands around her coffee mug as she looked over the small pups next to Bree. She tried to ignore the pang in her heart as she examined them. They were pretty puppies, despite the circumstances of their existence, but she knew that their future wouldn’t be pretty. Perhaps she could buy them some time. She heard the door open as Mr. Anderson joined her in the garage.
“She finally popped,” he said, taking a swig of his coffee and placed an arm around her shoulders.
“Don’t be crass,” she said, turning away and shrugging off his arm. Faced with the circumstances, she had no interest in receiving affection from him, regardless of how casual the intent.
“Oh, come on, honey,” he said. “You know what has to be done.”
“But why?” she cried, turning an accusatory eye toward her husband. “Why do we have to do away with them in such an inhumane way? And look at Bree! She is so happy, look at her tail wagging. It will break her heart to lose them and you know it!”
He rubbed his hand on the back of his neck. “Would you sacrifice everything we’ve worked for?” he said, pulling the card that he knew would make his wife cave. “All the work we’ve put in to assure the Club owners that Bree was pedigreed? Would you face the scandal that would follow if they found out she’s been compromised? You saw what happened last year with the Gentrys. Do you want that to happen to us?”
“Of course not,” she replied. “But look at them, darling. They are so helpless. At least give them a week, so they have a chance of surviving. Can we at least do that?”
He sighed. The pups would remain dependent on nursing during that time. But after they were weaned, would become too active, noisy and too much of a liability. “A week,” he said. “No more. We cannot afford for a whisper of question as to why Bree is not in breeding rotation at the right time. Just last week at the meeting, Mr. Joseph had inquired about her well-being. We just can’t afford it, honey.”
She slumped against his chest, letting his arm drape across her shoulder. “I know,” she whispered. “It breaks my heart, but you are right.”
At their feet, Bree wagged her tail and peered up at her beloved humans, her heart swelling with pride. Her humans would take care of the puppies just as a wild pack would. She laid her head down to rest after her arduous night, while her two pups nuzzled at her with contented sighs.
***
The mother wolf ran through the forest.
She had left the Alpha to watch after the cubs for a little while, as she had been caring for them for several days and needed to run, to drink, and to privately mourn the cub she had lost. The others in the pack had a connection with her mental state, as she had with theirs and she knew that her continued sadness would eventually weaken them all.
The wind rushed past her as she bounded through the woods, trees rushing by on either side. The others stayed behind, making an informal circle around the den. They had all already hunted for the day and felt content to stay. The exercise bolstered her mood and she knew in her mind connection that the others felt it, too.
She sensed the Alpha pacing the entrance to the den. If she concentrated enough, she would even hear through his ears the sounds of their yips and barks, now stronger than they had been at birth. In the weeks to come, they would be taught how to call to the others—the most important element of wolf communication besides the ever-present mind link.
She ran, though she knew not to stray too close to the forest’s edge. There were hunters and the strange creatures that barreled along the hard roadways; large dragon-like beings with bright glowing eyes, which flew level with the ground. They had lost one of theirs in the last season to one of these creatures. Foxfoot had tried to run across the hard road to join them on the other side, but he had been hit quite suddenly by one of those large flying creatures as it came around the edge of the rocky outcropping.
They had mourned Foxfoot and decided not to approach the hard roads again. It had been many years since they had lost anyone to a hunter at the forest’s edge, but she knew of other packs that had lost important members.
She stopped, listening to the sounds of the forest. A squirrel disturbed the brush a little way away from her. She could have given chase if she chose, but she wasn’t hungry. The pack had brought her food since the birth of the pups, keeping her strength up during the nursing stage. Soon, she knew her pups would awaken and they would then begin to learn the ways of the wolf. She kept her senses tuned to the actions of the small squirrel for a brief moment, but she decided she needed to return to the den. Her pups needed to nurse soon.
The pack grew restless at her absence, even as the Alpha calmed them. He chastised the pack through the mind link. Let her be, he would have said. She brings you new pack mates and that is to be respected. They all knew it. Especially, Cass, the female who had positioned herself to be the Alpha’s primary mate, a coveted role to female wolves. But he had chosen her instead.
Cass had remained faithful to the pack, but the small lingering resentment simmered just below the surface. Nothing could be hidden from another member of the pack as the wolves’ mind connection was that strong. Cass accepted her role after being rejected by the Alpha. Perhaps one day, things would change, but for now, she had become the pack Mother.
She turned awa
y from the squirrel to return to the den. She didn’t know that fate had a different plan for her.
***
Mr. and Mrs. Anderson drove deeper into the national park.
The thin two-lane road stretched ahead and behind for miles on end. In the back seat in a small crate, the two puppies climbed on top of each other, still trying to access their little mother, who was lying on the newspaper next to them. Small yips emitted from the cage, and Mrs. Anderson wiped away a tear as they continued down the road.
“Do you think we are far enough?” Mr. Anderson asked.
“I think so,” she replied, suppressing her sadness. “There should be a pull-off soon, according to the map.”
He reached over and placed a hand on her knee, a gesture that he wanted to be comforting. She pushed his hand away. Regardless of the circumstances and that their actions would save their reputation amongst their society friends, she didn’t have to like it. She wanted to remain mad at him, at least for the day. She had told him already that it would help her get through what they had to do. They found the pull off, nothing more than a half moon of gravel against the forest’s edge. She turned to face him.
“Can’t we please reconsider?” she asked as one last plea.
“We’ve been over this,” he said in a tone as gentle as he could muster. Truth was, he tired of his wife’s sentimentality. The mongrels could drown as far as he was concerned. But his wife insisted they at least give them a fighting chance by releasing them at the side of the road. He opened his door and exited the vehicle. After pulling Bree from the cage, he clicked on the leash and handed it to his wife. She stood stoically by the side of the car with Bree at her feet, still wagging her tail and panting with the excitement of what seemed to be a day in the woods. Mr. Anderson took the puppies, one in each hand and all of them took off down the small path leading deeper into the forest.
Bree trotted happily between her humans. She could sense that the female seemed unhappy, but she couldn’t venture to guess why. Her scent exuded sadness. Bree looked up at her with an open-mouthed grin. The man held the puppies, as well he should so they could have a nice view of the woods as they traveled along. Bree wouldn’t have felt right had they been walking along with her. Soon they neared the creek. Bree happily lapped up the fresh, clear water running by as the humans stooped down at the edge. The floral scent of the forest soon became tinged with the female’s tears, salty and sudden, causing Bree to lean on her knee and try to lick her face. Don’t be sad, she wanted to say. We are all here together, with the puppies even. Today is a good day.
The man leaned down with her babies and set them at the foot of a large oak tree. The roots had reached through the earth and created a series of small caves and tunnels. He placed the two pups in one of these. The lady led Bree over to the small creatures, and she licked their heads each in turn. The puppies squirmed and yipped at her touch. Bree looked up at her humans. Shall we walk more now? she wondered. Perhaps the puppies have rested enough and we can now go further.
The man took a few steps down the path back toward the parked car. He turned to the lady who ran a finger over the forehead and nose of each of the pups. After what seemed like a long while, the lady also stood. With the leash in her hand, she walked toward the man and they both turned toward the car.
Bree trotted along for a few steps. Wait, she realized. They didn’t get the puppies. Wait. She barked once, high and shrill to alert them of their mistake. The man would go back and get them once they realized. They both looked down at her and kept walking forward. Bree planted her feet. This wouldn’t do. The lady pulled on the leash to guide her forward. Bree had always done as the humans had instructed. They were her pack and she was to follow them, but at this moment, they didn’t seem to want to behave according to pack rules. She barked again, informing them that one of them must go back for the pups. She pulled against the length of the leash, but her feet took steps against the pressure.
“Bree, come!” the lady said. Against her will, Bree walked forward. The command voice took over and she responded on impulse. The car came into view. Bree struggled with her maternal instinct and loyalty to the humans. She pulled and whined, but the lady reached down and picked her up. The man unlocked the door and Bree was placed unceremoniously back into the crate, which still smelled of her puppies. As the small metal grate was clicked shut, she realized they would be leaving the forest without them. She strained to see out the window, but the only thing in her view was the heavy brown tree trunks drifting by as the car sped up down the road. The scent of her puppies began to fade as they drove farther, leaving her only with the old parchment scent of the newspaper in her crate.
***
The Mother knew she had ventured very close to the hard road.
In the far distance, she heard the noises of the flying dragon and caught the scent of humans as well. She would turn around and return to the den. Just as she did so, however, another scent invaded her senses. A scent that made her think about the lost fourth pup that had not survived long past his birth. She had managed to find a way to tuck that pain inside and surround it with the love of the other three, the love of the pack and the love of the Alpha.
If she could hide the pain, it would fade away and not weaken the pack in such a way as to jeopardize their safety. But what she sensed on the air made her stop and despite her better judgment, she considered going toward it. She smelled young canines. Newborn canines, by the tinge of milk on the air... but definitely not wolves. She sensed danger as well. Almost as soon as her mind registered this, the sound cut through the forest. High, shrill yips and cries soared through the branches around her. The maternal instinct overtook any sense of danger she may have felt toward herself. Immediately, she took off running toward the sounds.
What she came upon sent a shiver through the wolf’s body. Her own pup had died of something natural, a problem with his nerves and muscles. Through her sadness over his death, she also knew that he wouldn’t have survived long had he lived beyond that day. The forest teemed with predators, even for the wolves, who were feared by many of the creatures therein. What she saw before her was the sight of an eagle, which had landed on a domesticated puppy. Just to the left, barking and baring its small baby teeth in an effort to intimidate the bird, was another puppy, a sibling she knew from the matching scents.
Pure instinct drove her. Seeing the danger before her, she barked and jumped at the eagle. As it broke contact with the victim, the mother wolf placed herself between it and the injured dog. She bared her teeth, daring the predator to try for its lost prey. The eagle flew away, disappearing into the thick foliage.
The Mother turned to look over the injured puppy. She knew instantly that he couldn’t be saved. The other dog, hopped closer, dodging forward and back again, wanting to see about his litter mate, but nervous about the wild beast guarding him. The mother wolf lay her head down on the puppy, licking his wounds. She gave a small submissive nod, just enough to let the other know that he could approach safely. He did so.
“How did you come to be here?” she asked, speaking to the small canine in her wolf way.
“The humans brought us here... then they went away with our mother.”
They both stayed with the little puppy until he passed on. But soon, she felt the pull of the pack, as she had not returned within the time they thought she would. Her own puppies needed her, she knew. The Mother also sensed the Alpha connecting with her. He couldn’t know exactly what she experienced, but he could sense that her reasons were important. She piled leaves on top of the prone body of the small dog and gestured to the other that he should return to the pack with her. He questioned this at first. The lady would return, he said. He should stay here in case they did.
No, their Mother explained the ways of humans. All she had known from them is their tendency to kill. Also, she admonished, the large ground dragons travel close to here. They decided to return to the pack. As she ran ahead, she realized that the s
mall puppy had trouble meeting her pace. His legs were short like a cub. She returned and picked him up by his neck just as she would one of her own, and carefully stepped over the branches and brambles. They soon reached the clearing next to her den. The Alpha looked at her with consternation when she stepped forward with the puppy in her mouth. The mother placed the puppy carefully at the feet of the Alpha.
“What is this?” he questioned.
“We will call him Shadow, because I have a feeling that he will be my little shadow for a long time,” she answered. She gave him a look that let him know that her acceptance of the puppy into her litter was not up for discussion.
Chapter Two
Soon enough, the wolf cubs explored the grove around the den for the first time in their little lives.
Alpha watched over them while Mother hunted for a meal. Shadow had lived with the wolf family for two moon cycles, and had been integrated into the litter as one of their own. After he had been found by Mother Wolf and taken into the den, he had welcomed the surrounding warmth from the other littermates. His hunger soon overcame him and he had nestled in with the others, finding sustenance and comfort. Mother Wolf could sense the Alpha’s consternation at the new addition, but she knew that despite his initial misgivings, eventually, he would accept Shadow as one of their own.
In the short time, Shadow had grown accustomed to his brothers and sister. They had all opened their eyes and were allowed to venture out as far as the area around the den, but only under the watchful eye of one of the pack members. Sometimes it was Alpha or Mother, but sometimes, one of the others would keep them in sight. When they were old enough, Shadow knew that they would learn how to hunt in the forest, but for now, he enjoyed nothing more than to romp and play with his brothers and sister.
Blue, the cub with the blue-gray markings, Chase with the black markings around his eyes, and Snow, their sister with the white fur, all rolled and tumbled with Shadow. The ground beneath them yielded a soft bed of new green grass, edged in succulent flowers just at the edge of the tree line. After a good tumble and a playful snarl, his brother, Blue, stopped to look at Shadow thoughtfully.
