––––––––
“Ready?”
Anja nodded. “So you want me to go and sit in front of the caravan window—there.”
“Yes, where the humans can see you,” said Suka. “And act like Honey. Make sure you drool a lot.”
Anja ran her tongue around her mouth. “I’ll try.” She looked at Honey. “What makes you drool? Is there something special you think about?”
“Mate, everythin’ makes Honey drool,” said Ruffster. “She drools in her sleep.”
Honey ducked her head in embarrassment. “I don’t do it on purpose.”
“Maybe you can just dip your mouth in the water bowl,” suggested Biscuit. “And let the water drip off your chin.”
Honey looked doubtfully towards the caravan. “Are you sure this is going to work, Suka?”
“Trust me,” said the Husky.
“Relax, Honey,” said Ruffster. “She’s your dopey-gangsta, right?”
Suka rolled her eyes. “Doppelgänger. But yeah, Anja looks exactly like you. And humans don’t pay that much attention to details. If they look out the window, they’ll just see Anja sitting there and think it’s you. And they’ll think those lumps next to her are the rest of us, lying beside you. It’s dark anyway, so they won’t see very well.” She sniffed the air. “There’s mist in the air tonight. That’s good. Makes things even more hazy.”
“Don’t understand why we don’t just sneak off,” said Ruffster. “That’s what we usually do anyway.”
Suka heaved an exasperated sigh. “Because this way, the humans won’t get worried and start looking for us. They’ll think we’re still hanging around outside the caravan. It’ll buy us some time while we go and dig up those paper scraps.”
“What about the Breeder?” asked Honey. “Won’t she come looking for Anja?”
“She’s sleeping,” said Anja. “She was reading in the tent and then her head just went down on her book. She didn’t move when I crept away so I think she’s sleeping quite deeply. She’s really tired.”
“Well, let’s hope she doesn’t wake up then,” said Suka, grinning.
Honey looked at her friend. The Husky’s blue eyes were sparkling with excitement. She’s actually looking forward this whole thing, realised Honey with wry surprise. She couldn’t believe it. Here she was dreading the risks they were taking and worried about what might happen, while Suka looked like she was having the time of her life. Sometimes Honey wondered if Suka escaped simply for the thrill of escaping. And being cooped up in the show ring for the last few days certainly hadn’t done any favours for that wild Husky spirit—Suka was practically begging for an adventure.
“OK, wish me luck,” said Anja as she left the shadow of the caravan to take up her position.
Honey watched nervously. Suka was a genius when it came to planning escapes, but this time, she wondered if her friend had bitten off more than she could chew. So far, they had been lucky—they’d found the extra towels in a bag beside a car nearby and managed to grab several, dumping them together in front of the main caravan window. Biscuit had even found a bag of dog food and made the supreme sacrifice of not eating it, but had dragged it over to place it next to the towels. It wouldn’t fool anyone who came up close, but from a distance, in the gathering dark, they could pass for canine-shaped “lumps”.
Then they had waited—all on their best behaviour—while the humans had gathered in Suka’s caravan again after dinner. From the sounds of cheering and laughter drifting out of the caravan now, it seemed like the humans were playing that board game again. Now, if they could just sneak quietly away ...
Anja took up her position, sitting next to the “lumps”, a little way from the caravan window, but clearly visible if anyone looked out. She glanced back and gave Suka a nod—then the Husky began slinking towards the path, with the others hurriedly following.
Once they were on the path, Honey paused to get her bearings. The caravans were parked on the east side of the arena. To get to the other side—the west side—where the paper scraps were buried, they would have to walk all the way down, around the front of the arena and back up the west wall. It was a long walk. Honey was about to start when she noticed that Suka had paused and was turning her head in the other direction, sniffing the air.
“Why don’t we try going the other way?” Suka said. “Instead of going all the way around the front, if we go around the back of the arena, the route’s shorter and we’d get there quicker.”
Honey looked in the direction Suka was indicating. The path faded into darkness as it wove its way around the back end of the arena. Beyond the arena building, she could see nothing. But—she raised her nose and scented the air—she could smell grass, lots of grass, mixed with the smell of mud, and also a faint whiff of fresh water. Fields, she decided. There were open fields beyond the building, perhaps with a river beyond? The thought of walking into a big, unknown space in the dark didn’t really appeal to her, but Suka was already setting off with her loping Husky stride and the others were trailing behind her. Honey hesitated for a moment longer, then quickly followed them.
The night air felt cool and damp, the smell of rain still heavy in the air. In the distance, a faint mist was drifting along the horizon, like pale fingers waving in the night. Honey shivered and wondered again if this was a good idea. She thought of yesterday, when she had been out by the Viking ship, and she had seen the Phantom Hound disappearing into the field at the back of the arena. Even though she was sure the ghostly dog meant them no harm, she wasn’t that keen to follow in his paw steps this late at night.
They walked in silence until they reached the rear corner of the arena and met the fence. It ran up to the corner of the arena and then continued close alongside the back wall of the arena building, so that there was hardly any space between the wall and the fence. Certainly not enough space for a dog to squeeze through comfortably.
“Reckon we should go under the fence and walk across in the field on the other side,” said Ruffster. “Only way to reach the west side. We can cross back under when we get there.”
“This field is where I saw the Phantom Hound disappearing into yesterday,” said Honey uneasily.
“I’m not scared o’ some stupid ghost dog,” scoffed Ruffster, starting to crawl under the bottom bar of the fence. “Anyway, reckon that’s just your imagination playin’ tricks. Could have been a bit o’ mist or somethin’.”
“But—” Honey sighed. Suka and Biscuit had both wriggled through and taken off into the field already, with Ruffster following.
Honey gave up and lowered herself to the ground as well. The fence was wooden, with two bars that ran parallel to the ground, interspersed by thick posts every couple of metres. The space between the lowest bar and the ground was fairly wide, but what’s big enough for most dogs often isn’t big enough for a Great Dane. Honey scrunched herself up as small as she could and inched forwards on her stomach, hoping that she could crawl through under the lowest bar like the others had done. She managed to get her head, neck, and front legs through before she jammed at the shoulders.
Ah, ticks. She tried to back out, thinking that maybe she would try jumping over the fence instead, but although the fence creaked in protest, it did not release its grip on her. She was wedged tight between the lowest bar and the ground.
Honey fought down a momentary surge of panic. The others had disappeared and she was alone here in the dark with mist swirling closer and closer around her. She whimpered and the sound seemed to be swallowed by the night.
Think! she told herself. Stop being a cry-puppy and think! The space was obviously not big enough for her body to get through. So the answer was to make it bigger. Well, she couldn’t move the bar of the fence above her, but ... she could lower the level of the ground below by digging. She thought longingly of her friend, Tyson the Jack Russell Terrier. If only he was here! Tyson could dig a hole to China in his sleep. He would have got her out of here in no time.
But Tyson had gone away on holiday with his family and Honey knew that she had to rely on her own wits now. She scrabbled weakly with her front paws, but since she was lying on her stomach, with her front legs wedged underneath her, it was hard to angle them to get any grip on the soil. The only thing she could move freely was her head. She hesitated a moment, then reached down and bit into the ground, breaking a chunk of earth loose with her teeth. Turning her head aside, she spat the chunk out and then repeated the whole process.
It took several more mouthfuls of dirt before Honey had removed enough earth in front of her to make more space for her front paws. She could feel the soil crumbling away from her chest, easing the pressure there. She scrabbled forwards again, raking her front paws deeply into the soil, and this time she felt the ground loosen under her belly.
Elated, she lunged forwards again, pushing with her back legs, crawling slowly through. She felt the bar of the fence pressing down on her shoulders ... then sliding down her back ... her hips ... She wriggled harder and, with a gasp, she popped out the other side.