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For most of that day and the next, I wondered if I would ever get back to the place I’d last seen Brandy. I even began to wonder if I’d gone the wrong way, but from time to time, when I’d stop long enough to take in my surroundings, I’d recognize some feature of the landscape that stirred a memory.
How many days had it been? Usually, I kept track of such things by counting the number of sleeps. But while the fire had burned inside me, I’d slept in long bouts, through darkness and daylight. It made it all impossible to sort out.
When I finally did arrive, the scent of our things was so faded, so overcome by other scents, that I realized how badly I’d erred by leaving in the first place.
The ache in my heart grew. If Brandy had come back to search for me, she’d long since moved on because I hadn’t been there.
Maybe tomorrow, though, she’d come. And if not tomorrow, then the day after. I wouldn’t leave this time. Not even for food. Because I couldn’t imagine Brandy not coming back for me. She would!
The sun sank behind distant hills. The valley in which the van had once lain in a twisted heap shifted from shadows to total darkness. Stars pierced the night sky. The buzz of insects mingled with the whoosh of cars barreling down the highway.
Somewhere far away, the howl of my wild kin called to my primal side. A song of solitude and the longing to connect.
A lone coyote had begun the chorus, until one pack and then another joined in. I lifted my snout and sang with them, until my throat hurt, my head was light, and I’d forgotten why it was I started. When their song faded, I lay down to rest.
—o00o—
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Later, I was stirred from my sleep in the bushes by the sound of many feet tamping down the dry grass.
I raised my head, peering into the darkness for the movement of shadows. My heart quickened. Fear filled my chest. I sniffed the air. I couldn’t see them, but... they were there—the coyotes.
When I saw the first pair of golden eyes glint in the blackness, I didn’t stop to think about what to do.
I ran.
And they chased.
Up the hill I went, struggling through low branches and a tangle of woods, dodging broad tree trunks and sprawling shrubs, while loose ground gave way behind me.
I didn’t stop to count how many they were or how close. Whether there were two or ten didn’t matter. Before the accident, I’d been quick and strong, but my adventures had taken their toll. The farther up I went, the more I slowed, the more my lungs heaved for air.
They yipped with glee, closing in on me. The terror propelled me up the last of the hill and over its crest. Leaping the metal rail, I landed on the edge of the road.
Cones of light hurtled down the highway in both directions. A horn blared so close by I jumped back, my rump hitting a post.
While the sounds had drowned out the galloping of their paws, I was aware of them. Knew they were still there, still coming after me.
But I also sensed they were cautious of humans, rightly so. I’d seen Brandy’s dad pick up a rifle and shoot at one from the porch of the cabin by the lake. Humans no more trusted coyotes than coyotes did them.
A truck blasted by, hitting me with a wall of air so forceful it pushed me back more. Hugging the rail, I trotted its length. But when I came to the end of it, what I saw made my heart go cold.
Two—no, three—coyotes were waiting for me. And if I had to guess, I’d say there were some behind me on the other side, too.
The smaller of those in front of me lowered her head and slunk toward me, as if in submission.
Don’t trust her! a shrill voice inside me screamed.
The ones behind crept closer. I sensed them.
When I’d lain in the tunnel not so long ago, my body heavy with fatigue, I could not have fought them off. Not even one. I still wasn’t sure I could. The scars the monster dog had inflicted on me were still raw, the bruises deep. I was hungry and weary and weak.
Right now, I couldn’t even outrun them. I had so little left.
The female crawled on her belly to me, licking her lips and curling her body as she kept her head down. Her soft whimpers begged friendship, as if to say, Join us. We will show you where the food is and the safe places to hide. Be one of our pack.
I wasn’t fooled, though. The evil glimmer in her eye was clear. I heard the quiet steps of her companions. Sensed they, too, hungered—and I was the prey.
I was trapped: three before me, others behind and beside me, the highway on the other side.
There was only one way out.
I bolted across the highway. Headlights blinded me. A horn sounded. Rubber and steel bore down on me. Still, I continued, barely avoiding one car as I crossed a lane and then another before finding myself in a wide grassy swath. But in a shallow gully was a concrete barrier. I couldn’t stop to see if they were still following. I leaped over it, landing in yet more grass.
On the other side was another strip of highway, the metal beasts zooming in the other direction. I went across, mindless of the bright lights. A car swerved, barely missing me. Another horn. More cars, more horns.
On the far side now, I peered over the edge. It was a long way down. On the other side where I’d come from, the pack watched, calculating if they should follow. I trotted along the edge, my lack of strength now pulling at me like a heaviness I couldn’t beat. As long as I stayed off to the side, I knew I wouldn’t get run over. The road rose and fell, so I went slowly, ever watchful.
For a long time, they followed me. I kept on going, if only to get away from them.
After a while, I stopped checking to see if they were there. Until I forgot about them. Until I thought I couldn’t go on anymore.
The pads of my feet were raw and tender. Every step was agony. They had been like that for a long time, but fear had caused me to block out the pain. And for the first time I noticed it was well past daybreak.
I gazed across the highway, but they weren’t there. There was no sign of them. As if they’d never been there. Had they? Or had I merely imagined them?
I’d long since grown oblivious to the passing vehicles. I almost sank down and slept right there next to the highway when I saw, not so far away, a small farm.
Better to rely on humans than to leave my fate to the coyotes.
—o00o—
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I’d hoped it would be something other than what it was. Farms generally had animals: cows, chickens, pigs, horses, cats, dogs. Animals needed to be fed. There was a rusty tractor with a flat tire sitting out in the open and a small barn in need of repair, as well as a modest house with a detached garage, all surrounded by overgrown pasture. But no animals, which meant no food. If there’d ever been animals, their scent was long gone.
Still, it was worth checking out. Not like I had other options.
I explored the perimeter, slowly working my way closer. No trash cans in sight, no buckets filled with feed, no bowls of kibble, not even cat food. I sniffed around the car parked in front of the garage, checked for open doors in the outbuildings. All closed. The smell of humans was strong, so I remained watchful.
And then I saw... a tree with fruit, the branches bowed toward the ground. Beyond it, more fruit trees. I went to the first one, found the lowest fruit and pulled it loose. Ahh, the most delightful thing I’d ever eaten. Sweet and juicy. Almost like the apple slices Brandy fed me, but not as tart, with a gritty texture and odd shape, fatter on the bottom than the top.
A banging startled me. The fruit fell from my mouth as I stared toward the house. A woman with pale hair stood on the wooden steps outside the back door.
“Damn coyote. Get away from my pear—” She narrowed her eyes, but didn’t come closer. Just stood there, studying me. I readied myself to run, even though I barely had the energy to remain upright. “You’re no coyote, that’s for sure. Something about you seems mighty familiar. Wait there.”
She went inside, but I kept an eye on the door as I started on a second piece of fruit. I ate it in three bites, then began a third. Not as filling as my kibble, but I could survive on this if I had to. I tried a piece lying on the ground, but it had the sour smell of rot to it and several flies were buzzing about it. My nose told me to move on. I circled beneath the tree. There weren’t any that were low enough to pluck from where I was, so I backed up for a better look. There, a little higher. Ripe, no worm holes, no flies. I coiled and sprang upward, but my body was so weak I could barely get off the ground. I backed up more, ran at it. My teeth barely nipped it. The fruit remained up high, out of reach.
Lowering my sights, I sniffed about for more fallen fruit. I found another that was only half rotten. Exhausted, I collapsed to the ground, the fruit between my paws.
Bang! The door slapped shut behind the woman. She held a piece of paper up. Gazed between it and me. That was a peculiar thing to do. I could never understand why humans studied their flat objects—computers, TVs, books, newspapers—with such fascination. They were so uninteresting. Except sometimes for the TV. Because it made sounds with pictures that moved. Even so, humans spent way too much time in front of them.
“You’re one of those Australian Shepherds,” the woman said. “Doc Hunter has one kinda like you. Different color and markings, though. Says here your name’s Sooner.”
I perked. How did she know my name?
“Sooner. Is that your name—Sooner?”
I hadn’t heard my name in so long, but I resisted going closer.
“And your owner’s name was Brandy Anders.”
Brandy? She knew Brandy! I stood. My nub wagged uncontrollably. Was Brandy inside?
I wanted to trust this woman, but—
“Clayton?” she called. When no one answered, she opened the door and called again. “Get out here, will you, Clayton? I asked you to take a look five minutes ago. That dog’s still here.”
Moments later, a man—almost as wide as he was tall—joined her on the steps. The first thing I noticed was he kept one arm stiff at his side, like it didn’t work quite right. His hair was bushy and on the longer side. A thick gray beard hid most of his face. He might have frightened me on his appearance alone, but his eyes told a different story. They were bright and kind.
“Lookie there, will ya?” He lifted the brim of his cap to get a better look. As the sun fell fully on his face, I saw his eyes crinkle with a smile. “Pretty dog—or was once. Looks like it’s been through hell and back, though.”
The woman shoved the paper in his face. “Think this is the same dog? I saw this on Facebook a few days ago. Took me a while to find the post.”
He pulled his head back, squinted. “You know I can’t see squat without my glasses, Loretta.” He took the paper from her and held it at arm’s length, then studied me again. He handed the paper back to her. “Yup, probably is. What’s them words below the picture say?”
“Says lost dog. Two-year-old female Australian Shepherd, red with copper and white markings.” She tilted her head at me again. “Looks more golden than red to me, but that could be all the mud and from being out in the sun.”
“So who’s searching for her?” Clayton asked.
Loretta frowned. “Says her owner was involved in an accident... That must’ve been the wreck out on the interstate last week. Heard they flew the woman in a helicopter to Lexington.”
“Did she live?”
After a few more moments reading, Loretta shook her head. “Doesn’t say here, but I can look it up on the computer. It does say the dog has a collar and a microchip.” She glanced at me. “No collar, but I suppose she could’ve lost it. Doc Hunter can scan her for a microchip.”
Clayton barked a laugh. “Good luck catching her. Dog looks frightened to death. Anyway, what’re you going to do if that’s not the dog? We’re headed to Florida tomorrow. We can’t keep her.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. Maybe Doc Hunter will know what to do, though. Even if she’s not this dog, I can’t take her to the shelter. Any loon could take her home, and those dogs aren’t right for just anyone. She seems like a smart one. Smart enough to have kept herself alive for over a week. Just need to figure out how to get a hold of her without spooking her.”
The man turned to go inside.
“What’re you gonna do, Clayton?”
He went inside, then returned with a plate. My sniffer immediately went to work. I could smell it from here—meat! Cold meat, but I smelled bone marrow, too.
“Those are last night’s ribs,” Loretta said. “I was gonna make us sandwiches for lunch. You’re not gonna give that to the dog, are you? We got bread and cheese. Why don’t you try those?”
He rolled his eyes. “If you were near to starving but didn’t trust someone, which would you go for?”
“I don’t—”
“Just watch.” He put the plate on the railing, then shredded the meat from the bone—which wasn’t an easy task with only one good hand. When he was done, he stepped down from the stairs and tossed a hunk in my direction. It landed halfway.
I stayed where I was. I knew the ruse. Besides, he was still too close for comfort.
“Well, that didn’t work now, did it?” Loretta scolded.
“Patience, my dear.” Clayton returned to the porch, then held the door open. “Give her time. Come on inside.”
“What if she runs away?”
“If she were going to run, she’d’ve done it by now.”
Scoffing, Loretta brushed past him. “We’ll see about that.”
“Indeed we will.” When Loretta disappeared, Clayton said softly to me, “Eat up. There’s more where that came from.”
I waited a good long time before I darted to the meat, grabbed it, and ran off a safe distance around to the other side of the barn, where I snarfed it down in two bites. My tummy had never been so happy—it was the best food I’d ever eaten. Still hungry, I crawled to the corner to watch the house. Maybe he’d throw some more food out. Humans were so wasteful. I couldn’t even say how many times Brandy threw perfectly good food in the trash to let some men in a big truck carry it off.
Not long after, Loretta spied me through a window. “She’s out behind the goat shed.”
Nothing happened for a while. I was lying down, my eyelids growing heavy. I was still hungry—and thirsty—but I also needed to rest. Seemed I needed a lot of that lately.
And then... Clayton came outside with a bucket. At the back of the house, he turned on a water spigot. Water rushed out, filling the bucket. Carrying it to the garage with his good arm, he opened the small door on the side, then put the bucket just outside the door and went inside. I couldn’t tell what he was doing besides making a lot of noise, but when he came out again, he glanced at me.
“Don’t mind me,” he said calmly. “Just taking care of the honey-do list.”
More time passed, during which I slept, stole another piece of fruit, and slept some more. Finally, I could no longer resist. Skulking around the outside of the building, my eyes glued on the door he’d gone in and out of, I went to the bucket and drank my fill.
Throughout the morning, I got used to Clayton coming and going about the yard. Each time, he left a small hunk of rib meat on a plate outside the garage, moving the plate from time to time, which made me highly suspicious, but as hungry as I was, I took my chances.
And then, he placed the plate inside the garage.
How dumb did he think I was?
I ambled off into the woods, where I slept some more. Safe, but still very hungry.
—o00o—
––––––––
The sun rose in the sky, arced overhead, and began its lazy descent. At some point, the woman got in her car and drove away. But I knew Clayton was still in the house because he hadn’t left with her. Maybe he’d gone to sleep or busied himself with the many senseless tasks humans immersed themselves in, like bathing.
I’d go into the garage, take as much meat as I could gulp in a few bites, and be on my way. Maybe I’d come back later, maybe not, but if there was food to be had, I wasn’t going to leave it uneaten.
Or maybe... maybe I’d stick around. As long as he was going to put food out for me every once in a while...
While the pull of sleep had lifted for now with the prospect of filling my belly, getting up and moving was hard. I was stiff, my steps small and slow. My head was fuzzy, too. The sharpness of my thoughts and reactions weren’t what they used to be. I’d been fast once. I could jump high, run swiftly, and turn in a blink. Over bars, up A-frames, and through tunnels. But crossing that yard took impossibly long. It was as if the distance had increased in the brief time I’d been resting.
Finally, I went to the bucket of water and drank. I stopped just long enough to breathe. Then I drank some more. Which made me wonder—how long had it been since I’d peed? I couldn’t remember.
The smell of food called to me. I saw the plate sitting alone in the middle of the garage, heaped with meat still on the bone. The wise thing would have been to grab one and run. But I needed every fiber of that meat. Needed the bones to lick the marrow from and to clean my teeth. Needed more than one. Anyway, I hadn’t seen any sign of the man for some time now.
So I crept inside and settled with the plate between my paws. Gorging myself, I tore every fiber of meat from the bones and licked the insides clean.
Until darkness fell across the shaft of light pouring in through the open door.
“Y’like that, Sooner?”
I popped to my feet. Clayton stood in the doorway, a great shadow shutting out the sun’s light. Moving inside, he squatted, elbows resting on his knees, his plump cheeks bunching in a smile beneath the whiskery gray forest of his beard.
“Been through a lot, haven’t you? Someone’s been looking for you.”
In warning, I lifted my lip at him. Although I desperately wanted to trust this man, I didn’t know him. I wanted a soft bed in a dry place, clean water, and food every day, preferably an endless bowl of kibble topped with table scraps. I wanted to sleep where I knew I was safe, where no vicious dogs or a pack of hungry coyotes could do me harm. Where I could be safe from the lightning. I wanted to run and play where no cars would run me over.
A car. I heard a car coming up the driveway. I crouched, ready to spring.
“Don’t worry, Sooner. It’s just Loretta. She ain’t all that scary.”
A door slammed outside. Human feet padded across the ground. Another door opened and shut. Then, for a while, nothing happened.
Clayton patted the floor as he lowered himself to his knees. “I’m not gonna hurt you. Promise.”
Mostly, I wanted a scratch behind my ears or a hand softly stroking my tummy. A face I could look into and know I was loved and cared for. Anyone’s face.
And I wanted to hear my name again.
“Sooner, it’s okay.” He took a rope from his back pocket, the end looped like a collar. Setting it down, he took a plastic bag from his shirt pocket and opened it with his teeth. For the first time, I noticed the arm he kept so close and didn’t move wasn’t a real arm, but some sort of plastic. Slipping a piece of bologna from the bag, he held it out. More softly, he said, “It’s okay. Nobody’s gonna hurt you, Sooner. Promise.”
My name was like a magical spell, lulling me to him. I was tired of running. Tired of hurting and starving and thirsting. Tired of being on my own. On my belly, I crawled to him.
Partway there, I stopped. I still wasn’t sure.
He extended his hand, the bologna dangling like a worm on a hook. As I crept closer, he placed it on the ground. I watched his hand slide to the rope, saw him gather the loop.
“It’s okay, Sooner. You’re hungry, right? Come and eat.”
I wanted to, but—
The door burst open. The shape of a woman, slightly padded with the comfort of later years, stood silhouetted in the doorway.
“Clayton? What are you...? Is that her?”
“Loretta, shut the door!” he growled.
Startled by the volume of his voice, she gasped. Just as she recovered and reached behind her to push at the door, I darted past.
Out into the daylight. Away. To safety.
Again, I ran.
Voices faded into the distance. My name echoed. But they weren’t people I knew. They weren’t Brandy. I wouldn’t let them capture me.
For two more days, I ran, sometimes even into the night. I ran until my lungs burned and my heart was near to exploding and my muscles would go no more. Until my belly was as empty as it had ever been.
I sensed danger everywhere. Nothing was familiar or welcoming. It wasn’t my home. More and more, I lost my bearings. At times, I could’ve sworn I’d been in a certain spot before, but I was never entirely certain. One hill looked like so many others. Maybe I was going in circles.
On the third day, I could no longer run. I walked, stumbled, fell, and walked some more. And then—
A big sprawling barn ahead. Food, possibly water.
A place to lie down... for as long as I needed. Forever, maybe.
Every bit of me hurt. My heart, especially.
On quiet feet, I sauntered into the barn. Giant beasts—horses—raised their heads and nickered at me from their stalls. But I ignored them. Either they would come out and kill me, or they wouldn’t.
At the end was a stall, the smell of corn and oats strong. When I stumbled in, my rump brushed against the open door. I saw a bin, its lid loose. Nudged it open. Heard the whomp of the door slamming shut behind me.
I was trapped! I barked in frustration.
In the next stall, the biggest horse snorted and kicked at the walls with his hooves. The structure shook. The bars above the door, the hinges, and the latch rattled. Spinning circles, he let out a high-pitched whinny. I couldn’t see him, but I could hear his fury, could sense his enormous strength. I barked again, if only to feel fiercer than I was.
After a series of yips, I stopped. I didn’t have the energy. Didn’t care if I was stomped to death.
I curled myself tightly into the farthest corner, defeated, no will left. I couldn’t continue. Couldn’t stand the loneliness, the hopelessness, the fatigue, hunger, and pain.
I’d given up—on finding Brandy and on surviving. I just wanted to sleep. Forever.