My favorite is catching ducks on the water. Our humans had a swimming pool on their farm, and the ducks thought they were allowed in it. Wrong. They were trespassing! I was the best one at catching things in the water. My fur is so thick that my skin doesn’t even get wet unless I’m in the water a long time. I do a great belly flop into a pool, too, if I do say so myself. I swim really well, too. Just as well as any old duck—better, in a fight!
Sometimes, we hunted bigger prey, and that required the pack to work together.
Once a week or so, we chased humans away from the strawberries. Not all of them were strangers, either. You humans are far less respectful of each other’s territories than we dogs are.
That rickety old fence kept stray cows off our land. We didn’t get anything as big as a cow poking its ugly unwanted face around, but we did get raccoons.
Raccoons are mean, smart, and strong. That’s a bad combination.
One time, this raccoon had worked its way under our humans’ den. You know how you humans build your dens up above the ground? Well, our humans’ den was so far up off the ground that it had a wooden bottom that rested on top of a ring of stones that was about as tall as me. Here and there, the ring of stones had openings where water pipes and gas pipes came out. These openings were ridiculously big, large enough for a raccoon to get in.
I could understand why it wanted in there. The humans’ whole den smelled like food.
Did I tell you that hunting in a pack is easy and fun? It totally is. All we had to do was make sure a few of us were guarding each exit and then send in our three terrier pack members, who were small enough to get in through those holes in the ring of stones.
You should’ve heard the raccoon shrieking and my terrier pack mates giving him what-for!
Not many humans know this, but terriers are bred for hunting small prey. A terrier’s small size allows him to follow gophers and snakes and stuff right down into their burrows. Against three of them, that raccoon didn’t stand a chance. He came flying out the hole that I was guarding, the hole in the ring of stones. I had a Coon Hound with me, and I didn’t even get a bite in, that Coon hound was so good at getting the raccoon!
I’d tell you more about my old pack mates—all their names and exact breeds, how old they were, what each one liked and didn’t like, what they were good at, the stories they told—except that I’m pretty sure I’ll never see any of them again. That’s life, but it still made me angry.
Those farm humans left me locked in a cage with nothing to eat or drink. Thinking what would have happened if the animal shelter hadn’t found me made me angrier still. That’s how trustworthy and grateful humans are: not much at all. New humans had taken me, but they wanted me to sleep in a cage.
No way. No how. Not happening.
This is the end of the bonus sample.
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