Chapter 1

Harvey

A west highland terrier walks on a leash with his nose to the ground and his tail up in the air.

Early-morning walks are Harvey’s favorite. Even better is after a rain when the concrete is cool and damp on his paws. Lampposts and fire hydrants explode with bright, fresh smells, ready for his inspection. He trots from tree to tree, leading Maggie. There’s a particularly pungent smell stretching along the curb. Harvey can almost taste it. He tugs, desperate to sniff out the source. “Harvey!” Maggie plants her feet, refusing to move until Harvey calms. Harvey obeys, but only until he feels some give in the leash. Then he is off again, his nose pressed firmly to the ground.

West Highland Terriers are known for their keen sense of smell and their determination. Harvey’s hard work is rewarded when his nose leads him to a bag of trash that has been ripped open. Mounds of soggy garbage have spilled out. As much as Harvey would like to stay and investigate every piece, cataloging the smells in his brain, Maggie’s voice is sharp with irritation. “Ew, Harvey! Gross! Raccoons did that.”

Maggie drags Harvey away, but not before he catches a whiff of the animal’s dank fur. The smell sends shivers up Harvey’s nose and his tail and ears perk up.

How he hates to leave! The scent could be tracked, its origin discovered. Harvey is a ratter, and his instincts tell him to do just that. He looks back once, longingly. Maggie bends down and scratches the spot between Harvey’s ears. “Come on, Harvs. I have school. We have to get home.” Instantly distracted, Harvey forgets the strange new odor and trots beside Maggie as they round the corner for home. But somewhere out there is an unfamiliar creature and its scent is now firmly etched in Harvey’s memory.