Shep sniffed the water — no scent but the slime of chemicals on the surface. A tree was jammed into the wall of the canal not far from where he stood. Shep padded over to the edge of the dock, then hopped onto the tree. It gave under Shep’s weight and he wavered on his paws, but regained his balance. The surface of the water was pocked by the drizzle and the only sound was the soft plash of rain.
He crept along the tree trunk, out into the canal. The rain-dimpled surface made it hard to watch for any water lizards below, but hopefully it also hid him and any ripples he sent across the water from them. The end of the tree trunk was a full stretch from the opposite canal wall, and the dock was another stretch away from the tree along the stone slab.
It felt good to be faced with a problem of strength — something Shep was good at. He tensed his leg muscles and bounced lightly, gauging the spring of the tree. With an explosion from his hind legs, he burst into the air. He stretched his forelegs and neck, reaching for the dock. His front claws scratched the metal surface, but his hind legs fell short and crashed into the fetid water.
Shep struggled to pull himself up onto the slippery dock, then he felt it — something large and rough rubbed along his submerged rear paw. He clawed at the metal. Come on! He gnashed his teeth as he strained to haul his rump out of the canal. Finally, he hooked a back claw onto the edge of the dock and thrust his hindquarters onto the platform. Just as he did, a knobby green-gray snout rose from the dark depths of the water, eyes glinting atop it like fat droplets. Shep backed away from the water. The great beast opened its jagged-toothed maw and hissed sour breath, then closed its mouth and sank into the black.
Shep panted, mesmerized by the appearance of the strange monster. What had it been trying to say? A chill shivered along Shep’s fur. Was that the thing that had eaten Cheese? Had it taken Honey, too?
Shep sniffed around the edge of the dock. A flight of stairs ran from it up to the street. No, Honey had survived the crossing. Shep smelled both her scent and Fuzz’s on the stone. At least she made it this far. But Shep smelled other dogs’ smells, some from around the same heartbeat as when Honey had passed. She’d been running — but from whom?
The trail was easy to follow on this side of the canal. Honey had been careless, knocking into boxes and bins as she ran. The sun was fully in the sky when Shep found the alley where Honey lay on a flattened pile of thick, brown box-paper. Lifeblood dyed the paper surrounding her body a deep red-brown. Shep raced to her side and sniffed her muzzle. Her breath was weak, barely ruffling his whiskers, but she was alive. Thank the Great Wolf!
“Honey,” Shep whimpered. “I’m here to save you. I can bring you back to the den. Boji can help you.”
Honey’s eyelids fluttered. “Fuzz,” she groaned.
“No, it’s Shep,” he woofed. He glanced around the alley — he neither smelled nor saw a trace of the cat. “Can you walk?”
Honey lifted her head a paw’s length off the ground. “You found me,” she moaned. “He said you’d come for me, but I didn’t believe him.”
Shep cocked his head. “Who said I’d come for you?”
“He said his name was Zeus.”
It was like the street tilted. Everything slid in Shep’s mind, falling into some black crevice. Out of the blackness rose Zeus’s muzzle as it was pulled away from him by the wave, the face of his best friend, the dog who tried to kill him.
He survived.
Honey coughed and lifeblood-stained spittle spattered the box-paper.
“Zeus did this to you?” Shep yipped, trying to keep his voice from shaking.
Honey gave a feeble wave of her tail.
Emotions roiled inside Shep like a storm — joy at his friend’s survival; horror at the thought of his return, of having to fight him again; rage at what he’d done to Honey. The feelings threatened to tear Shep to shreds.
“He left me alive to give you a message,” Honey moaned, wincing at the expulsion of her own breath. “He said that he wanted revenge.” Her head fell back onto the paper. “I don’t know why hurting me would give him revenge.”
Shep lay down beside Honey and licked her muzzle. “Hurting you was his way of hurting me,” he woofed quietly. “I’m so sorry, Honey. I should never have let the pack throw Fuzz out.”
Honey’s breathing was a mere trickle of air through her nostrils. Her eyes struggled to remain open, then she gave up and let them close. “Find Fuzz,” she wheezed. “Protect him.”
“I will,” Shep whimpered. “I swear I will.”
Her breath slowed. Each exhalation sounded like the cat’s name; Shep wasn’t sure whether it was an incantation or a reminder. Shep licked her jowls and whimpered sorry over and over to her. He lay beside her until she was at rest. Then he pulled a piece of box-paper over her and wished her a quick journey to the Great Wolf.
“What Shep-dog do to Honey-friend?” Fuzz screeched from the roof above. The cat sprang down onto a pile of rubble, approaching Shep with ears back, tail up and twitching, and hackles raised.
“I came to bring you both back,” Shep woofed, lying down to show Fuzz he meant no harm. “But her injuries were too bad.”
“Where Honey-friend?” The cat loped past Shep to the box pile, where Honey’s tail peeked from beneath a shadow. Fuzz squirmed under the paper and let loose a terrible cry. “Honey-friend!”
Shep buried his snout in his paws, not wanting to disturb the poor feline. Fuzz sounded about as miserable as any animal could get.
After several heartbeats, Fuzz crawled out from under the box-paper. “Fuzz spend many cycle trying to care for Honey-friend.” He sat near Shep, then folded his body down into a compact knot. “Fuzz care for Honey-friend since she is baby-dog. But Fuzz fail. Big dog attack, and Fuzz hide like insect. Fuzz not worth the fur in a hairball.” The cat’s eyes were closed. He held himself still, as if even the slightest twitch of his whiskers would break him apart.
“You couldn’t have fought off this dog, Fuzz, not even with four clawed paws and all the desire in your heart.” Shep crept closer to the cat and dared a quick lick of friendship. “If this is any dog’s fault, it’s mine.”
The cat remained still as stone.
“Honey was thinking of you in her last breath,” Shep woofed. “She made me promise to protect you.”
“Shep-dog’s protection.” Hate dripped from his words. “That what got Fuzz and Honey-friend shut out in first place,” Fuzz hissed.
“I was a bad dog,” Shep woofed. “I let you and Honey down. But I’m trying to do the right thing.” He crept closer to Fuzz, so that his nose was next to the cat’s face. “Please, Fuzz. I swear that I will protect you with all the power in my jaws.”
The cat opened his eyes, their color an eerie yellow-green in the gray light. “Fuzz go,” he spat. “But only because Honey-friend wish it.”
Shep rolled slightly and wagged his tail, offering Fuzz his usual shoulder-perch, but the cat unwrapped himself, then stretched, arching his back in the most unnatural fashion.
“Fuzz prefer walk.”
As they neared the boat, the smell of spilled lifeblood baking in the sun washed over Shep like the wave. Shep broke into a run and Fuzz scrambled to keep up beside him. The first body was on the street before the plaza — a small dog, not one Shep knew, but a pet. He could tell by the collar still around the dog’s neck.
So this is what Zeus meant by revenge.
The boat lay on its side as always, but bits of the den inside were strewn about the street in front of it. Stuffing and feathers torn from pillows formed white clouds on the pavement. The bodies of dead dogs — mostly pets — had been dragged into piles near the unused small boats, some of which had been shoved out of place or smashed to pieces. The survivors huddled in groups Outside the den, whimpering softly. Upon smelling Shep, they growled.
Inside was worse. The den reeked of lifeblood. Hurt dogs moaned from every corner. Shep raced to Callie’s sick den — Please let her be all right! He didn’t know w
ho he was asking, since the Great Wolf had apparently abandoned him and his friends to the ferocious anger of the Black Dog.
He found Callie in her room, alive, barking with Blaze and some of the defense team. They scented him before he could so much as woof hello.
“Glad you came back,” Callie snapped.
Shep dug for words. “What happened?”
Blaze growled, then barked, “Appears your old pal Zeus is alive and a little angry with you. He thinks attacking some helpless pets is going to settle things.” She didn’t even look at him.
“But Zeus attacked Honey,” Shep woofed, trying to piece together the events of the last sun. “I found her.” He flicked his snout at Fuzz, who was huddled in the corner. “Zeus killed Honey to get back at me.”
Blaze lowered her muzzle and glared at Shep over her shoulder. “I guess killing Honey wasn’t enough to get the point across.”
“I didn’t know,” Shep woofed. “How could I? If I’d known —”
“What?” Blaze snarled. “If you’d known your friend and his pack of wild dogs were coming to massacre us, you’d have listened to me and helped plan our defenses instead of running out for nearly two suns to find one stupid girldog and her cat?”
Shep felt the world sliding again, every thing crumbling beneath his paws. He’d done the right thing. He’d had to save Honey — how was he to know she’d already be as good as dead when he found her? He’d done the right thing! Why was he being punished?
“Virgil’s dead,” Blaze continued, her bark flat and cold as a blade. “I led the defense team after he fell.”
“I didn’t know,” Shep whimpered. He crouched low to the floor for security. “I didn’t know.”
“We’re ending the war this sun,” Blaze snapped. “I’m leading the remaining defense team on an assault of the wild dogs’ lair.”
“No,” Shep woofed. “Don’t go — Wait, how do we know where their lair is?”
Daisy stepped out of the shadows dragging Oscar by the scruff. “Ask the pup,” she growled.
Oscar looked like a wilted leaf: Every part of him sagged. When Daisy dropped him onto the floor, he just lay there like a puddle.
“Oh, no, Oscar,” Shep yelped. “What did you do?”
“I was angry,” the pup yipped. “You said those things and made me look like a weasel in front of every dog. I sniffed out the wild pack. Zeus took me in.” The pup lifted his muzzle, his eyes wide and watery. “I didn’t know, Shep! You have to believe me! I didn’t know what he was going to do!”
“What did you think he would do?” Blaze growled. “Drop by to share some kibble?”
The pup cringed, becoming an even smaller and more pathetic pile of fur. “I didn’t know,” he whimpered.
“You didn’t think,” snapped Callie. “Neither of you. And now we’ve lost some of our best fight dogs. Bernie’s injured a paw, and Hulk’s got a nasty gash on his face.”
“They’ll be fine,” Blaze barked. “I’ve already discussed an attack strategy with them.”
“Attack strategy?” woofed Shep, trying to keep up. “Why are we attacking them? Shouldn’t we regroup here? Rebuild our defenses?”
“I hate to tell you,” Blaze barked, standing, “but we had a vote while you were out and I’ve been chosen to lead the pack. Seems the dogs have lost their faith in Shep the Great Woof.”
“Wolf,” Shep corrected.
“Whatever,” Blaze snapped.
“Don’t do it,” Shep grunted. “I know you don’t care what I think, but I know Zeus. He’ll expect a counterattack.”
“He won’t expect this counterattack,” Blaze said, pride oozing from her barks. “I’ve modified my herding commands. We’re going to flank them, drive them into an alley, and end this war.”
“Zeus is the best fight dog I’ve ever battled with,” Shep woofed, quietly. “He’d take you all out, even if your plan worked.”
“Don’t be so sure,” Blaze growled.
“I am sure,” Shep replied. “Don’t go, Blaze.”
“So I should listen to the dog who abandoned his friends the very heartbeat they needed him?” Blaze shoved her chest out and growled right in Shep’s muzzle. “I guess I listen about as well as you.”
She shoved past him and out into the hall. She let off a screaming howl that rattled the walls of the den, then bounded out to begin her war.
Shep closed his eyes. He’d failed them all, every dog in his pack. Why should Blaze listen to him? What wisdom, in all these suns, had he really shown?
“We should get all the dogs back into the boat,” Callie woofed. “In case you’re right.” She stood and her little legs trembled under her. She stepped tentatively, as if afraid the floor might suck her under. Shep lowered his muzzle and rested it against her shoulder, holding her up.
“It was terrible,” Callie whimpered in his ear. “Zeus’s howl rang through the den like thunder. He’s as angry as the storm, Shep, and he seems set on tearing your world apart.”
“Did he come after you?” Shep whimpered.
“I hid under the boat, where the cats had invaded.” Callie looked at Daisy, who lowered her muzzle. “Higgins hid as many of us small dogs as he could, piled the food on top of us to hide our scent.” Her barks caught in her throat. “The stupid furface even tried to fight him.”
Shep felt his back legs give out and he slumped to the floor. Virgil killed, and Higgins, too — his closest friends, gone. Zeus’s fury knew no limits. Every dog who’d so much as wagged a tail at Shep was going to be punished.
Shep set his jaw. No more. He placed his paws beneath his body and rose like a thundercloud. “No more,” he growled. He raised his muzzle and bayed at the ceiling, “NO MORE!” He felt strength run through him like lightning. He would defend this den until the last drop of lifeblood pulsed from his heart. He would make this right. He would protect these dogs. He would not fail them again.
“Get all the small dogs,” Shep barked to Daisy. “Hide them under the boat.”
“What about Oscar?” she woofed. The pup still cringed at her paws.
“I don’t think he’s going anywhere,” Shep barked. Daisy sniffed the pup, then wagged her knot-tail and bounded into the hall.
Shep lowered his snout so he was growling directly into Oscar’s ear. “You want the pack to forgive you?” he growled.
The pup shivered and yelped in reply.
“Then you dig out that tunnel we filled to prevent the cats from stealing our food.” Shep nosed the pup. “You stay there, and if trouble strikes, you lead the dogs out that tunnel to safety.”
The pup raised his head. “Lead them?”
Shep looked the pup in his eyes: They were huge brown pools rimmed in black, expressing an endless misery.
“You can do it,” Shep yipped. He licked Oscar’s head.
The pup whimpered, cringing. Then placed his paws under him. “I’ll do it,” he woofed.
Oscar scampered out of the den, shrinking away from Callie as he passed her.
“That’s your plan?” Callie woofed. She lowered her rump and scratched her ear. “We hide under the boat and hope the wild dogs think we’ve moved on?”
“No,” Shep barked. “You hide under the boat and I give Zeus what he came for.”
Shep organized his defense of the den. He knew that Zeus would expect a retaliatory attack — it was what Shep would expect an opponent to do. Zeus would therefore avoid whatever lair his wild pack had been using. He would most likely attack the boat again, in hopes of finding Shep returned from scenting out Honey. Even if Shep was wrong, he thought it better to be prepared than caught unawares.
Most of the bigger dogs had left with Blaze to attack the wild pack’s den. Boji stayed behind to help care for the injured dogs from the first wave of attack, and Dover had declined Blaze’s offer.
“I thought you might need another set of claws,” Dover woofed to Shep.
Shep left Boji to tend the injured and had Dover sniff over the
whole of the den to identify any points of weakness.
“I need to know where the wild dogs can get in,” he instructed. “I don’t want them sneaking up on me from behind.”
Fuzz, who’d been hanging in the shadows near Shep, boring into his fur with those grass green eyes, stepped forward. “Fuzz help,” the cat barked. “Help Shep-dog sniff out any secret holes. Help protect dog-pack.”
“You don’t have to, Fuzz,” Shep woofed. “You can stay with Callie.”
“Shep-dog finally act with honor,” Fuzz meowed. “Fuzz always help dog who act with honor.”
“You’re a good friend,” Shep said, tail wagging.
“Fuzz say nothing about friend,” he hissed, then meowed a short laugh and flicked his tail.
“Okay,” Shep yipped. “I won’t beg for more than you’re offering.”
Shep left Dover and Fuzz to scour the den for weaknesses, and began sniffing out the dogs who moped Outside. He dragged any that couldn’t or wouldn’t walk with him by the scruff back into the boat. Scenting Ginny and Rufus crouched under an overturned cold box, Shep stuck his snout under to bark at them and got a claw in the nose.
“Away, you rapscallion!” Ginny cried.
“Ginny, it’s Shep!” Shep licked his nose where she’d scratched the skin.
“Shep?” A narrow white snout appeared from beneath the thick wall of the cold box. The shiny black nose sniffed. “By Lassie’s golden fur, it is Shep!”
The poofy girldog wriggled her way out from under the cold box. “Oh, Shep, you wouldn’t believe the mess that poor, misguided pup got us into.”
“Weren’t you the dog who was guiding him these last suns?” Shep asked, cocking his head.