Food and people are good. Fun. Exciting. Pets and scratches. Treats.
But then… There! Faintly, I smell it. Over the people and the food and the exhaust and the grass.
The scent of blood.
The smell of death.
A hint. A touch on the breeze.
I lift my head, fill my nose with the scents of life and food and grass and dogs and squirrels and—
Yes! There, again. New death. Blood.
Excitement pulses through me…then fades.
Just as quick as it came, it’s gone.
We walk. Zella talks. I wag my tail at the sound of her happy voice.
But then I find it again. That thrilling scent.
I will not fail. I will not lose it. I have it. It’s mine.
I pull on my leash. I tell Zella, it’s there! Just there! So close!
Finally, she follows as I hunt the scent.
Chase it.
Lock onto it.
Find it.
I bark, loud and long, the thrill of the hunt and success rushing through me.
Here! It’s here! Right here!