Waggit Forever (13 page)

T
aking heed of Tazar's warning, Waggit skirted the edges of the ball fields when he came off the hill. This area was fairly safe when it was dark, but with the light of late summer it could remain crowded until quite late. Sure enough, small groups of humans were gathered around benches or seated on the grass, laughing and drinking sodas. He knew that a friendly gesture from one of them could often turn to anger if ignored, and the best strategy was to avoid any contact with people completely. The presence of so many of them
also meant that it was unlikely that any abandoned dog would show himself or herself until the park emptied. Or so he thought.

He had settled down under the cover of some shrubs to keep watch until the last of the humans left when a movement caught his eye. In the middle of a group of people who had just finished a softball game he saw a young dog, no more than a puppy really, running frantically from person to person. Each ballplayer reacted differently to the dog's panicked behavior. Some were welcoming and tried to calm the animal down, while others shooed her away. One man threw a stick for her to chase, but the dog was too frantic to be interested, and the stick thrower gave up trying to get her attention.

Waggit watched all this with his heart in his stomach. One reason for his anxiety was that he knew only too well how quickly the young dog could be in danger. All it would take would be a complaint from one of the group to a passing park worker, and the animal could be snatched up in an instant and on her way to the pound. The other reason the animal's actions distressed Waggit was that they reminded him of his own abandonment. He remembered the way that fear had
gripped him as he desperately looked for his “owner,” a word that Tazar had forbidden him to use ever since his rescue by the team. He knew that in this state of mind the dog wouldn't listen to the instincts that served his species so well and would act rashly out of despair. The frustrating thing was that Waggit could do nothing about the situation but observe. He couldn't put himself in unnecessary danger in attempting to save the animal, because if he did, there would most likely be two dogs on their way to the pound instead of one.

Finally the group of people got up and headed for the park gates on their way home, but to Waggit's dismay the dog followed them. Then a person at the back of the group waved his hand to shoo her away. When the dog paid no attention, the man picked up a stick that was lying on the ground nearby and raised it above his head as if to strike the animal. This had obviously happened to the dog before, because she scuttled away and stood shaking in the middle of the field. The ballplayers had left the park by now, as had most of the other humans, and Waggit thought his heart would break to see the scared and confused animal standing alone as darkness set in.

Very cautiously Waggit moved forward, running low to the ground from cover to cover, a bench here, a trash can there, anything that would mask his movement. For one thing, he didn't want to be seen by one of the few remaining people, but he also didn't want to spook the dog he was trying to rescue. He was now as close to the animal as he could get without being seen. Now he had to take a risk and come out into the open. As casually as he knew how, he sauntered up to the animal from behind.

“Hey,” he said casually.

The young dog shot up into the air, and then turned toward him, eyes wide and body quivering.

“Hi—hi—hi,” the dog stammered, looking from side to side to see if there was any way of escaping from this new and scary situation.

“My name's Waggit. What's yours?”

“Um, well, let me see,” the other dog spluttered. “I can't remember. It's—oh gosh, it's on the tip of my tongue. It'll come back to me, I'm sure it will.”

“No matter,” said Waggit, his voice remaining low-key. “Where are you heading?”

“I seem to have become separated from my master,” the other said, not noticing the way Waggit flinched
when he heard the word. “He's around here somewhere, I know it.”

Waggit watched the young dog with the compassion that only one who has experienced the same fears can give. He looked up at the encroaching dusk.

“It's kind of darkening,” he said. “Are you sure he hasn't left?”

“Oh no,” said the female. “He wouldn't leave without me. We're very close.”

“Well, it's going to be hard for you to see him soon,” Waggit observed. “I've got a bunch of friends who live here just up the hill. You'd be welcome to spend the night with us if you'd like.”

“Oh, that's nice of you, but I'll be heading home now. He's probably very worried, and I think I can find my way back from here.”

Waggit sat down and cocked his head to one side.

“You've never been in this park before, have you?” he asked in a soft voice.

The dog said nothing, and that was Waggit's answer.

“You were surprised when he brought you here, am I right?” asked Waggit.

Again there was no reply.

“And did he throw a ball for you maybe, and when you retrieved it and turned to take it back to him, he was gone?”

This time the young female answered yes in the softest of whispers.

Waggit got up and brushed against the scared dog's shaking body, remembering how comforting it had been on the night of his rescue to feel the solid warmth of Tazar's strong form next to him. He then turned and came face-to-face with her, looking straight into those fearful eyes.

“I know this is hard,” he said quietly yet firmly, “but you've been abandoned. I don't know why, and it really doesn't matter. What matters is that you understand that the Upright you call your master will never return.”

The young creature let out a long, mournful howl.

“No!”

The truth was too awful to contemplate, and yet, deep inside her, she knew that it was just that—the truth.

“He wouldn't do that, would he? He wouldn't leave me all alone.”

“You're not alone,” Waggit reassured her. “You have
many friends near here. You just haven't met them yet.”

“How do you know?” the female asked him. “How do you know what happened?”

“Well,” replied Waggit, “walk with me and I'll tell you my tale.”

And so the two of them started across the ball field and up the hill, he back to his team and she to her new life.

Bad water:
Gasoline

Bigwater:
The reservoir

Change:
Turn of seasons

Chill:
The first days of winter

The Cold White:
Snow

Crossover:
Cross streets

Curlytails:
Squirrels

Darkening:
Sundown

Deepwater:
The lake

Deepwoods End:
The north end of the park

Eyes and ears:
Sentry duty

Far Distant Territories:
New Jersey

Feeder:
Restaurant

Flutters:
Birds

Goldenside:
The west side of the park

Gray One:
A wolf who may be mythical

The Great Unknown:
The dog pound

Hoppers:
Rabbits

Loners:
Dogs with no team

The Long Cold:
Winter

Longlegs:
Horses

Long Light:
Summer

Luggers:
Carriages pulled by horses

Metal Trees:
Lampposts

Nibblers:
Mice

Petulants:
Pet dogs

Realm:
Area of the park that is the domain of a team

Rising:
Day

Risingside:
The East side of the park

Rollers:
Cars

Rollerway:
Road going through the park

Ruzelas:
Anyone in authority—rangers, police, etc.

Scurries:
Rats

Silver claws:
Knives

Skurdie:
A homeless person in the park

Skyline End:
The south end of the park

Stoners:
Teenage boys

Updowns:
Avenues that run north and south

Uprights:
Human beings

Warming:
Spring

Wide Flowing Water:
The Hudson River

Wild Yellow:
Coyote

Jacket art © 2010 by Tristan Elwell

Jacket design by Amy Ryan