In a heartbeat, dogs crowded the narrow stairwell, worried that the first snout to the kibble room would get the biggest share. Shep had been helping a bunch of tiny brown and gray dogs turn a broken chair into a bed and was now caught in the main den by the snarl in the stairwell. He ran up the table-ramp into the ceiling room, then dropped down onto the crowd shoving to get into the door leading to the stairs.
“Stop pushing!” he howled. “Every dog will get his share!”
Virgil caught Shep’s scent and barked from where he stood, jammed in the stairwell. “Form a line!” he bayed. “Against the wall, you mangy mutts!”
Shep heard Daisy’s snorty woof from inside the main den. “You heard Shep — snort — get in line!”
The mass of rippling fur began to settle out into a line of dogs. Thank the Great Wolf, thought Shep. He would bark with Callie about coming up with a better plan for mealtimes.
Oscar wriggled from between the bushy legs of a large, hairy black dog — a Newtie? Noofle? — and scampered up to Shep.
“Hey!” Oscar yipped like he hadn’t smelled Shep in suns. “I barked with Callie about my sharing a den with you and the other big dogs, but she said I should stay in the main den. Could you woof with her and change her mind?” He whipped his thin tail in circles.
Shep licked his jowls. How to let the pup down easy …
“Well, Oscar,” Shep began, “I’m actually with Callie on this one. I’m in a den on the ceiling with Blaze, and —”
“Oh,” Oscar grumbled. “So you already have a denmate?” His tail and ears sagged.
“Yeah,” Shep woofed, feeling rotten for not even thinking that Oscar might have wanted to share his den.
The pup straightened his tail and pricked his ears. “That’s okay,” he yipped. “I met this other pup, Odie, and he offered to share his cushion. Maybe the three of us can play later?”
Shep was distracted by a sharp bark.
“You took an extra kibble!”
“Did not!”
“I smelled it! You took two brown lumps, not the one we’re allowed!”
“My snout! Calm down!” yapped Higgins.
Shep thought he recognized one of the voices, but they both sounded angry.
“Shep?” Oscar whined. “Can you play later?”
“What?” Shep replied, shaking his snout. “Sorry, Oscar, but I’d better get to the kibble room.”
Shep pushed his way through the mob in the stairwell, then lunged over the other dogs’ backs to get to the lower level. As he pushed through the door-hole, he saw ahead of him what was quickly becoming a frenzy.
Two dogs were tearing into one another, fangs and claws slashing. Around those two, several other dogs were snapping at each other, but most were barking at Higgins to give them their food. Higgins stood in front of the kibble, tiny chest out and fangs bared, daring any of the scoundrels to pounce. The remaining dogs were paralyzed with fear, and some chattered their teeth or whimpered.
Shep shoved past the last few dogs and leapt into the fight. He grabbed the larger of the two by the scruff and threw her into the wall. The smaller dog froze, then cowered.
The girldog — who must’ve been a new rescue, as Shep had never smelled her before — snapped to her paws. “Who’re you?” she growled. “And where’s my second kibble?”
Shep laid his ears back and bared his fangs. “I’m the alpha of this den,” he snarled, “which means I have the final say on every thing, including kibble.”
The girldog squinted her eyes, as if considering whether or not to challenge Shep. Shep quickly took in the details of the space — low ceiling, wider floor with den holes breaking through every few stretches, and dogs blocking every escape. It’d be a tough fight, but winnable, though perhaps at the cost of an innocent dog’s lifeblood.
The girldog dropped her tail and lay down at Shep’s paws. “I didn’t mean to start a fight,” she grumbled. “But the old yapper took two kibbles. The hairy-faced yapper said we could only each have one.”
Shep stood tall and glared down at the cowering yapper. “Did you take an extra kibble?”
It was Rufus, the cursed tail dragger. He was trembling uncontrollably. “I-I-I was so hungry, Shep,” he whimpered. “And this den is so dark and small. I didn’t think any dog would notice.”
Shep lowered his head so he could look directly into the yapper’s beady black eyes. “I notice every thing,” he growled.
Rufus trembled even harder and began wailing deliriously. He rolled onto his back, exposing his bare white belly.
Shep felt the eyes of every dog in the pack on his fur. Great Wolf, how he wished Callie could simply appear beside him and whisper what to do next. What would the Great Wolf do? he wondered, remembering Callie’s words to him.
Rufus was powerless, and obviously terrified out of his fur, so there was little point in attacking him further. The girldog had been right that Rufus had taken more than his share, but that didn’t excuse her starting a fight, especially with a dog less than half her size. The rest of the dogs needed to understand that if they had a problem, they had to solve it without fighting. They had to come to him, as the dogs of old came to the Great Wolf.
Shep lifted his head and raised his ears and tail. He opened his throat to give the loudest and deepest bark he could make. He looked first at the girldog. “You’re new here,” he began, “so you don’t know our rules. But to clarify for every dog, we don’t fight each other, not for any reason, ever. If you have a problem, or think something’s unfair, you woof about it with me, and I’ll resolve things.
“Rufus was wrong to take an extra kibble, so he’ll lose one kibble at the next meal.” Shep glared down at Rufus, who cowered and whimpered his agreement.
“As for the rest of the pack,” Shep continued, “I know it’s hard not getting all the kibble you’re used to, but this storm has wrecked our world. We all miss our masters and mistresses, but the humans are gone. We dogs need to sacrifice so that we all can survive.”
“Until when, Shep?” the little papillon, Rosie, yipped. “How long are we going to stay here?”
“Until our families come back,” he woofed, “which will be soon, I hope. But until that sun, we dogs are all we have. We have to rely on each other, each dog standing nose-to-nose with his packmates. This den is our home, and we are each other’s family.”
For a heartbeat, the dogs wavered. Then they began to wag their tails and the smell of fear receded. They all looked at him with a strange awe, especially the new pack members, ones who hadn’t seen him fight the wild dogs. Shep opened his jowls and panted lightly to let every dog know that he wasn’t angry, and that every thing was fine. And every thing was fine. The crowd began to break up.
Paulie loped over to Shep’s side from where he’d been standing near the entry to the main den, panting lightly, a knowing grin on his jowls. “I sensed you were a fellow fight dog,” he woofed. “Glad to know there’s an alpha with real power leading this pack.”
The dog nodded his snout then got back into line. Shep felt a warmth spread from his chest out through his whole body. He’d solved a problem on his own, saved the pack without Callie’s help. A smile twisted his jowls.
Callie burst from between the legs of some larger dogs and scrambled to Shep’s side. “Great piles of biscuits, that was a mess!” she barked. “But you were marvelous!” She looked at Rufus, who still cringed against the wall. “I expected better from you, Rufus,” she growled. “How can we get the new rescues to trust us if the original pack can’t follow the rules?”
“I’m sorry!” Rufus cried. “Take all my kibble! Just stop growling at me!”
Callie sighed. “Oh, stop it, you old tail dragger.” She nipped his neck. “Don’t say things you don’t mean — unless you want us to take all your kibble?”
Rufus rolled to his paws, still cowering low to the metal floor. “No,” he squealed. “I don’t want that.”
“Fine,” Callie woofed, “then go
back to your den and think about all the trouble you caused by being greedy.”
Shep wondered why Callie was barking about all this. He had solved the problem without her. Did she need to stick her snout into every thing? That’s not thinking like a team, Shep growled to himself. He shouldn’t let one success make him think he’s the Great Wolf.
Callie checked in with Higgins, who was completely frazzled.
“We need to assign a dog to sit here with me,” he moaned. “Some big and mean-looking chap!”
“What we need is to set up some system so the whole pack isn’t fighting for their kib every meal,” woofed Callie.
“My thoughts exactly,” added Shep.
Callie looked at him as if she’d forgotten he was there. “Right,” she yipped. “Maybe we three should meet to try to dig up any other problems we might face before they bite us in the tail.”
Shep and Higgins woofed their agreement.
“Let’s sniff each other out after every dog’s had their kibble,” Callie barked. “Meet in the ceiling room, at the top of the table-ramp.”
As Shep licked the last morsels of his kibble from his jowls, Oscar bounded up to him with a gangly boxer puppy at his heels.
“What’s nibbling at you, pup?” Shep woofed.
“This is Odie,” Oscar yipped. “And he and I just had this great idea.” Oscar was wriggling and twitching like a squirrel’s tail. He looked at Odie, then stood tall (as tall as he could on his stumpy legs). “We were thinking of starting a club!” He leapt up and started wagging his tail and yipping. Odie jumped on him and they rolled and played.
“A club?” Shep woofed, watching the two scrabble at his paws. “What kind of club?”
“A club about you!” Odie woofed in a scratchy, but surprisingly deep bark. “We were all just so washed away by how you handled that kibble fight, and then Oscar started telling us about how you fought a whole pack of wild dogs —”
“I didn’t fight a whole pack,” Shep interrupted.
“Yes,” Oscar yowled, “he did fight a whole pack! We were all there, and we were throwing stuff at the dogs, but Shep was the only one in the mix, tearing the fur off those stinky wild dogs!”
“That’s just the best-furred thing I’ve ever heard!” yelped Odie, his stump tail wagging.
Odie was older than Oscar, and much bigger. Shep sensed that Oscar was trying to fit in with the bigger pup by telling stories, nosing his way up the ranks by riding on the alpha’s tail. But Shep felt bad about not sharing his den with the pup, and the little scrapper was always hanging on Shep’s every woof. It’d be good for him to make some other friends, Shep thought.
“Well, all right,” Shep woofed quietly. “Oscar here is telling the truth.” He panted gently and licked Oscar’s head. That’ll show Odie how well-furred Oscar is. “I fought a whole pack of wild dogs, and bested their alpha in a fight, dog against dog.”
“Holy treats!” Odie yipped. “Tell me every thing!”
Shep woofed the whole story, with Oscar interjecting his own yips. Shep even allowed the pup to embellish things — how many dogs Shep fought, the size of Kaz’s teeth, whether he’d beaten Zeus before the wave struck. What harm could it do to help the pup impress his new packmate?
Shep loped to the main den, padded up the table-ramp, and discovered Callie woofing softly with Higgins.
“Shep!” she barked, sounding surprised to see him. “Higgins and I were just going over the food stores.”
Shep felt like he’d started playing with some dogs who’d rather he’d stayed by the fence. “What’s wrong with the kibble stores?”
“Nothing,” yapped Higgins. “I just wanted to woof numbers with Callie, you know, how many dogs and how much kibble per sun.”
“Why didn’t you wait for me?” Shep woofed. “I know about numbers.”
“No doubt,” Higgins snuffled, though the tone of his bark oozed doubt.
There was an awkward pause.
Callie stood, ears and tail low. “You’re right.” She stepped toward him, tail wagging. “I should have waited for you.” She lay down at Shep’s paws, rolling to expose her belly. “I’m sorry.”
Shep wagged his tail and licked Callie’s head. “No worries,” he woofed, feeling better after her show of submission. “What’s the problem?”
Higgins yapped on about how they weren’t scavenging enough kibble to feed every member of the pack sufficiently. “Much of the human kibble has gone to rot, and what’s left will soon be inedible. We have to find another food source.”
Callie’s curled tail wagged in wide circles. “We can hunt!” she barked. “I could show some of the smaller dogs how I caught that squirrel, and maybe Dover could teach the big dogs. He said he’s hunted with his master.”
Shep’s stomach soured at the thought. He dreaded eating lifeblood for every meal. What if it turns me? He’d managed to avoid going wild in the kibble den, but Shep worried that so much lifeblood pulsing through his body every sun might be enough to push him over to the nightmare of the Black Dog.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Shep woofed. “Lifeblood for every meal? It could turn the dogs wild, and they’re already tearing into each other’s scruffs for kibble.”
Higgins coughed. “This pack would never go wild,” he snapped. “We’re civilized dogs.” He jutted out his furface.
“We’ll see how civilized things are when the kibble runs out,” Shep grunted.
“Exactly,” Callie woofed. “This is why we need to start hunting now. We can keep back some of the human kibble to mix in with the hunted meat and keep every dog’s fur about them.”
Shep licked his jowls. Higgins was right; with each passing sun, they found less and less kibble, and the pack continued to grow. They needed more food, and the only food out there was scurrying around on four legs.
“All right,” Shep woofed. “We’ll have to train some hunting dogs. Maybe Blaze can help. She’s spent her whole life chasing after beasts.”
“Double brilliant!” Callie yapped, getting excited about the whole hunting project, enough so that she seemed to forget how much she detested Blaze.
Callie began listing all the things they could hunt. “We’ll have to have small, fast dogs for taking down squirrels and other rodents. Maybe the big dogs could catch a giant iguana — one of those could feed half the pack! And Shep, you could eat bugs! I found one earlier in my den. They’re delicious and don’t have any lifeblood.”
“No thanks,” Shep said, remembering the long, shiny black things he’d sometimes seen in his boy’s den. “I’ll manage on the squirrel meat.”
Callie’s tail drooped. “I’m telling you, the bugs are really tasty.”
Shep panted and licked her snout. “You’ve got interesting tastes,” he yipped. “Lizards, bugs. Next you’ll be telling me how delicious trees are.”
Callie cocked her head. “I hadn’t even thought of trees. Brilliant, Shep!”
Shep’s tail slumped. Great Wolf, strike me down with your paw before I eat a tree.
As the moon passed over the windowed ceiling of the room, the three dogs argued and chattered. It was determined that the dogs needed to be divided into teams. One team would train with Callie, Blaze, and Dover in hunting. Another team, led by Virgil, would maintain defenses. A third team would keep up with the scavenging and rescue operation, headed by Honey. Shep would work with Virgil and also keep every dog in line with the plan. At mealtimes, the dogs would eat with their teams, and each team would rotate being the first in line for kibble.
By the time the three had finished planning, it was the middle of the night.
“We shouldn’t wake every dog,” Callie woofed, exhausted. “Shep, you make the announcements in the morning.”
He agreed, his woof broken mid-bark by a yawn. “I need some sleep,” he groaned.
“I’m already half-zonked,” grunted Higgins. He crept down the table-ramp toward his den.
Shep began to follow, then
saw Callie heading in the other direction. “You coming to bed?” he woofed.
“I just want to check with Boji on how those dams are doing.”
Shep waved his tail. “Smell you in the sunlight,” he snuffled.
Callie wagged her tail back. “Good night, partner.”
When Shep returned to his den, he found Blaze already curled in a corner.
“Where’ve you been?” she woofed. “I waited for you after getting my kibble.”
“I had a meeting about the pack,” Shep replied, curling next to her. Dim moonlight from the small ceiling window shone in her eyes.
“A meeting?” Blaze shuffled around so her snout was near Shep’s. “With whom? About what?”
“Just pack stuff,” Shep grunted. “Callie, Higgins, and I worked every thing out.”
“Higgins?” Blaze lifted her head. “Why didn’t you invite me to come if Higgins was there?”
Shep smelled the anger wafting off Blaze. “Higgins was there to woof about the food stores,” he said softly, trying to calm her. “It wasn’t a big meeting. I wasn’t trying to nose you out.”
Blaze laid her head back on her paws. “Fine,” she woofed. “But I don’t smell why you need to meet with them at all.” She licked her jowls. “Callie wasn’t the one who broke up that fight. You did, and all on your own.” Her breath ruffled the tiny hairs in his ear. “This pack would throw themselves into the canal if you barked for them to. Not for Callie or Higgins — just for you.”
Shep wondered if that was true. Recalling the look in Paulie’s eyes after the kibble fight, he thought Blaze might be right. If even a tough dog like Paulie looked ready to throw himself to a water lizard on Shep’s command, what horrors would a weakling like Rufus or Snoop be willing to suffer for him? Anxiety flooded Shep’s mind. He tried to remember what he’d woofed earlier — he was never careful enough with his barks. What if he’d said the wrong thing? The power he’d felt running through him suddenly felt terrible and cold, heavy like a coat of metal.
“That’s not how things are, Blaze,” Shep woofed, giving back whatever role she was trying to collar him with. “Every dog has a say in the way the pack’s run.”