Chapter 3

The first night, the puppies stayed huddled around the crate. It smelled of home and they didn’t want to leave it, even though they saw plenty of things they wanted to explore. They never knew the night could be so dark. They never knew they could be so hungry. They couldn’t sleep because they kept hearing things; things skulking, things slithering, things wanting to eat other things. Some of the sounds were so close, and some sounded so strangely familiar. Whatever was making the noises must have been right next to their crate, but no one was willing to check.

Other sounds, though, came from places that couldn’t be pinpointed. There were cries and whistles, and hoots and howls. They’d heard some of these on the farm, but never all at once. Usually, one of the big dogs, like Otis, would bark and then the world would go silent. This was a strange, dangerous and lonely world the puppies found themselves in. They piled on top of one another and thought of their mother.

When morning broke, the puppies were huddled so tightly together they were nearly permanently entwined. They were hungry and thirsty and started to explore. But they didn’t know what they were doing, and they had no plan. They scattered and scrambled and meandered. They weren’t prepared. And they weren’t thinking.

They were too close to the road, but none of them knew that, or what it meant. Suddenly, there was a sound that none of them would ever forget: tires screeching and a yelp that said so much in so little.

One of their sisters had been hit. The car hadn’t even slowed. She was dead.

Remy was the biggest of the remaining four puppies. He didn’t know for sure what had happened to his sister, even though he’d seen it. One minute she’d been alive, the next minute she wasn’t. He remembered his mother telling all the puppies about the outside world and the creatures to avoid. He didn’t remember her saying anything about this, but he also knew that his mother didn’t want to scare them, so she’d probably left out a few things.

He also remembered his mother talking to him, but only when his siblings were off playing.

“My darling, you’re the boy-dog. You’re the biggest and smartest. I don’t know what’s going to happen to all of you. I’ve seen this happen before. A human will come along and smile. They might hold a few different puppies, and they may even play with them. Then one of my puppies gets taken, and it keeps happening until I have no more puppies.”

He saw that she had a distant, and hurt, look in her eyes. Remy somehow knew she’d gone through that not once but several times.

She saw that he was getting upset, so she licked his snout before continuing. She didn’t want to overly concern him, but she wanted him to know the things she knew. “Sometimes, and this is the thing that makes me tolerate such a bad situation, a nice human will take a pair of puppies, maybe a boy and a girl. Hopefully, Remy, if that happens, it’ll happen with you and one of your siblings. And then I’ll know – because you’re the boy-dog – that the other will be okay. Of all the puppies I’ve ever had, you have such a powerful instinct to protect and to guide. I’ve known many herding dogs, shepherds all, but that quality runs deeply in you.”

Many things that his mother had said confused him, such as why strangers would even be allowed to take his brothers and sisters, but he knew one thing: he knew he was to take care of his siblings.

He saw the lifeless body of his sister. He wasn’t sure what to do. But instinct told him they had to move, to get away from the road, that the road, and cars, were dangerous. So Remy led the others deeper into the cemetery. Down a small hill he found two large fallen trees, one crisscrossing the other. There was a naturally defensible spot under where the two trees met. The limbs still held brown leaves that would help keep out any rain.

It would do, Remy thought, for now. He needed to think. They hunkered down. Some of the puppies tried to fix up the place by digging out some dirt and making a shallow burrow. Others played in the fallen trees. Remy sat and watched it all.

There was a stream nearby, so they had water. Food, on the other hand, was scarce; at least, food as they’d come to know it. But nature and instinct kicked in and they caught some mice and two frogs.

Remy knew that wouldn’t be enough.