Waggit Forever (4 page)

T
azar had decided that he would take Waggit, Cal, and Raz with him to the meeting with Beidel. He would have liked to have the wise advice of Lowdown, but the journey was too difficult for his arthritic limbs. Besides, Tazar had come to rely on Waggit's judgment more and more. Waggit didn't have the experience that the older dog had acquired over many years of life in the park, but he was smart and generally had good instincts. Cal and Raz were included in the party mainly as bodyguards. Both were agile and strong
and knew how to handle themselves when in trouble, mostly because they often were.

The dogs had to travel late at night, when there was the least traffic and fewest people on the streets, and while not completely safe, the journey was less dangerous at that hour. Waggit tried to doze beforehand, but he was too wound up. This would be a momentous event in the life of the team, whatever Tazar decided to do. So he lay there with his head on his paws, sighing occasionally for no particular reason. His place for sleeping in the pipe was at the farthest end from the entrance, near where it ran out into a pool of water. He watched the moonlight glitter on the ripples of water caused by the gentle breeze that also ruffled his fur. A spidery pattern of reflections played constantly on the roof of the pipe. It was the perfect place for free dogs to live, he thought, if only people would leave them alone.

Suddenly he heard a low growl.

“Waggit, Cal, Raz, time to move out.”

It was Tazar trying to whisper and not disturb the entire team. He needn't have bothered, because everyone was as wound up and awake as Waggit—except for Alicia, who could have slept through a
major earthquake in the unlikely event of one hitting New York City. As the four dogs prepared to leave, the others called out “Good luck” and “Safe travels.” Even Gruff muttered that they might as well try. He wasn't optimistic about their chances of success but figured that if they got caught, he could have Waggit's spot in the pipe.

As they left the park, they were heartened by the fact that this seemed to be an unusually quiet night. A few yellow taxis trolled for the occasional late-night passenger, and the only other vehicles on the road were newspaper trucks delivering the day's news to stores around the city. They got to the alley behind the Chinese restaurant without incident and were surprised to find that nobody was there. They nervously waited, and leaped to attention several times when a plastic bag was blown along the street and once when a cat scurried past.

“Are you sure you have the same amount of claws on your paw as the rest of us?” Tazar asked Waggit.

“I think so,” said Waggit, looking at them. They all compared paws and decided that Waggit's were no different from any other dog's.

Suddenly the hairs on their backs stood up. They
smelled animals approaching, then saw three dogs walking casually down the alley toward them. Beidel was in front, accompanied by two others Waggit had never seen. Beidel walked straight up to Tazar.

“You must be the leader,” he said. “What is your name?”

“My name,” replied Tazar with the same quiet dignity, “is Tazar, and yours is Beedle, I believe.”

“Beidel,” said the other. “Rhymes with idle, but that's where the similarity begins and ends.”

“I apologize,” said Tazar.

“Think nothing of it.”

Waggit was getting agitated during this exchange. If it took them this long to establish their names, it would be daylight before any discussions began.

“Allow me to introduce my chief lieutenants,” Beidel continued. “This is Dragoman and this is Cicero. Both are skilled in guiding dogs to safety.”

The dogs looked as if they were skilled in fighting as well. They carried the scars from past battles, and showed the same quiet self-assurance as their leader. Tazar introduced his three companions, and then they finally got down to the matter at hand.

“I understand from this young dog here,” said Beidel, nodding toward Waggit, “that your living situation has become difficult.”

“It's the Uprights,” growled Tazar. “It's always the Uprights. They cannot tolerate anything they cannot control, and free dogs are intolerable to them.”

“It has always been so,” said Beidel. “We live among them more than you do, but we have adapted to their ways.”

“We have as well, wherever possible,” agreed Tazar, “but when their ways take the very food upon which you survive, or when their ways trap you and take you to the Great Unknown, then you cannot adapt. Aside from your generosity in lending us this feeder, we have very little food. Unless we can resolve our problems soon, we will starve.”

“Are you willing to consider any other options?” asked Beidel.

“Consider, yes,” Tazar answered. “I am a dog of action, but also careful in my actions. I will not expose my team to reckless danger.”

“Very noble,” said Beidel. “But in these matters there is a level of risk you have to accept. My team
has saved many dogs from circumstances far worse than yours, and we can do the same for you if you trust us.”

“What is your plan?” Tazar asked.

“Dragoman will explain,” Beidel replied.

One of the two lieutenants stepped forward. He was a dog of medium build with a matted black and tan coat. His most noticeable features were his ears, which were long and drooped down either side of his head.

“You are park dogs,” he began. “You could no more survive on the streets than we could in the woods. If you can't stay where you are, you have to find another park. We think we know of one that would suit your needs.”

“Think?” said Tazar. “I don't like that word. How can we be sure?”

“If certainty is what you demand, then go back to your park and starve,” Beidel interrupted irritably. “We have no plans that are based on certainty.”

“While we never venture into parks,” Dragoman continued, “we know loners who do, and they tell us of one on the far Goldenside near the Wide Flowing Water that sounds right. It is wooded, has many small animals, a couple of feeders, and water. Best of all,
it's on a hill and easily defended.”

“Are there other teams that live there now?” asked Tazar.

“Not that we know of,” replied Dragoman.

“And how would we get there?” asked Tazar. “We are a large team.”

The third Ductor, Cicero, stepped forward. He was smaller than Dragoman, with a curly brown coat, and had only one eye, which stared back at them with frightening intensity.

“First of all we will divide you into smaller groups,” he said. “We have many safe havens around the city, and a Ductor will take each group to one every rising. We travel only when it is safest, as it is now. During the rising you will sleep, and when the light goes, we travel again.”

“How many risings will it take?” asked Tazar.

“Three, maybe four,” said Cicero.

Waggit had said nothing at this point, but now he stepped forward beside Tazar.

“One of our members is old,” he said, “and it's very hard for him to move. How will he travel such distances?”

“You may have to leave him,” said Beidel. “A burden
like that makes the whole group more vulnerable.”

“In that case I'll stay with him,” Waggit said. “We'll live together in the park the best we can.”

“No,” Tazar assured him. “Either we all go or none of us do.” He turned once more to face Beidel. “Tell me, friend, why would you and your team help us like this? What's in it for you?”

“It's what we do and always have done,” Beidel replied. “It's our purpose, and a team with a purpose is a stronger team. Besides which”—he smiled wryly—“it's the only way I can get you to stop stealing our food.”

“You've given us much to think about,” said Tazar, “and to discuss with the other members of our team. Although I'm their leader and it's my decision, I would not make up my mind without hearing them out. Can we meet again in two risings?”

“No,” said Beidel, “I need your decision in one. There are many others in need besides you. If you're not here in one, we withdraw the offer and defend the feeder.”

“You're a hard dog, Beidel,” said Tazar.

“These are hard times,” replied Beidel, and without saying another word, he and his two cohorts
disappeared into the night.

Pausing only to gather as much Chinese food as possible, the Tazarians made their way back to the park. They arrived at the clearing by the pipe's entrance just as the first glow of dawn was lighting up the sky.

Even with four dogs carrying all they could, the meal was unsatisfying, and soon they all felt hungry again. Tazar had forbidden any discussion of the meeting until he addressed the group himself. This he did as soon as everyone had finished eating.

“Gather round, gather round,” he said, although they already were. He waited until he got their attention, which didn't take long. Then he outlined to them what had happened during the encounter with the Ductors. He explained the plan, its dangers, the possible outcomes, and the reasons for considering such a move in the first place. Waggit was impressed by the way he presented every aspect of the situation clearly and without bias, even though he knew that the leader had strong reservations.

“What it comes down to,” Tazar concluded, “is this: Can we continue to live in the Deepwoods, or is it just going to be too hard? And if we have to move, do we
trust the Ductors? We have to do this knowing that there will be no going back. As soon as we're out of here another team, probably the Olangsters, will take over our realm. This is forever.”

As he finished speaking, an anxious murmur went through the dogs like a long collective growl. They all knew that this was probably the most serious decision any of them would make in their lives. Then the questions started coming, fast and furious.

“How long will we be traveling?”

“Where will we sleep?”

“Are there many Ruzelas in the new park?”

“How do we eat?”

“Will we all be together?”

Tazar noticed that all the questions were about the journey and the new location; none of them focused on what would happen if they stayed where they were. This gave him the answer he had been looking for. The team knew that life in the Deepwoods was about to become intolerable and realized that moving was the only option. It would be tough, but somehow they would do it. His biggest fear was that the new park would be as bad as the situation they were leaving,
or worse. Experience had taught him that risk was a constant part of life, especially for free dogs, and his job as a leader was to make sure that the outcome was worth the danger. He instinctively trusted Beidel, and Tazar was a dog who had learned to listen to his instincts.

Waggit was sent at the appointed time to tell the Ductors that the Tazarians agreed to follow their plan. Beidel nodded when he heard their decision. He told Waggit to have the team assembled by the park entrance halfway up the Goldenside on the following night. He also ordered Dragoman and Cicero to take as much food for the Tazarians from the restaurant's trash cans as they could carry, so that the team would start out the journey without completely empty stomachs.

The two Ductors refused to come inside the park but left the food they were carrying just inside the gray stone wall that marked its boundary. Waggit was amazed that animals who seemed as tough and self-assured as these two should be nervous of trees and grass, until he remembered how edgy Cal and Raz had been on the city's streets. He said good-bye to the
Ductors and told them he looked forward to seeing them the next day, though this was an exaggeration. While he thought that the move was the right thing to do, the journey wasn't something he was looking forward to.

T
he following night the team assembled behind some large rhododendron bushes near the entrance to the park, where they had arranged to meet the Ductors. They remained hidden because Tazar was still wary. He believed Beidel was trustworthy, but he was not too proud to realize he might be wrong. There was no reason to take chances if you didn't have to.

The weather had become hot and humid, and they could hear the low rumble of thunder, as if the elements disapproved of the journey they were about to
take. The electricity the storm generated made their coats tingle and prickle, increasing the nervousness and discomfort that they were feeling. Even Tazar had been known to flinch when a flash of lightning came close. Of all the dogs, only Gordo was unaffected by thunderstorms. Alicia was sure this was due to his lack of breeding, although he was no less well bred than any of the others.

This was a difficult time for all of them, and not just because of the hazards they would face. Except for Waggit, even those who weren't born there had never been outside the park after they were first abandoned. They knew that this would be the last time they would see the place that had been their home for as long as they could remember, and they felt a deep sadness at saying good-bye.

Four dogs approached the park entrance: Dragoman, Cicero, and two others they hadn't seen before. One, a female, had a loping stride that indicated a German shepherd was somewhere in her family tree. The other was a medium-size dog with a wiry coat that looked as if a hurricane had just blown through where he was standing. His fur stood up at a variety of different angles, which would have been funny if not for his stern
appearance. This dog was all business: alert, focused, and tense. The Tazarians held their breath, waiting to see what the Ductors would do. The wirehaired dog lifted his head, his nose twitching in the air. He said something to his companions that the Tazarians couldn't hear, and then the four of them approached the bushes that concealed the team.

When Tazar realized their hiding place had been discovered, he emerged from it, with the rest of the team behind him. Dragoman nodded to him in greeting.

“You're cautious,” he said. “I like that. It's a quality that will come in handy before this journey's over.”

“And beyond,” Tazar assured him.

“Beyond's none of my business,” Dragoman said. “I'll take care of the journey; and that,” he continued, looking around the team, “is more than enough for me. We never moved this many dogs before.”

“They're good dogs,” said Tazar. “Smart and sensible. They learn quickly too. They won't give you any trouble.”

Dragoman glanced at Gordo and Alicia. “Smart” and “No trouble” weren't the first words that sprang to his mind, and he wondered how many of the other
team members were unworthy of Tazar's glowing recommendation. He knew he would find out soon enough.

“These are your guides,” he said, nodding toward the two unfamiliar dogs. “This is Naviga and this Pilodus. They will lead you to your safe havens. Cicero and I will bring up the rear of each group.”

“
One
group,” snarled Tazar. “There is only one group. We travel together or not at all. Where is Beidel?”

“Beidel never comes on missions,” Cicero answered. “You
may
see him at one of the havens, but you're in our paws now, and you must trust us. We know what we're doing, and what we're doing is breaking you up into two groups. It will be dangerous enough even then, and the first havens are too small to take all of you together.”

“I don't like the idea of being separated,” Tazar complained.

“It's the best way,” Dragoman assured him, “and we are still in your park. If you wish to change your mind, now is the time. Once we're on the streets, it'll be too late.”

“No,” said Tazar, “there's no going back. But if
any harm comes to this team, you'll have to answer to me.”

“Remember, friend,” Dragoman said, quietly but firmly, “we do this for your advantage, not our own.”

And so Tazar and Waggit divided up the team. All the dogs assumed that Lowdown would go with Waggit. Magica decided to join them, and wherever she went, so did Little One and Little Two, not to mention Gordo, who would be miserable without her. Cal and Raz decided to go with Tazar, as did Alicia, who was under the misguided notion that she could twist him around her little claw. That left Gruff and Alona. Gruff said that since they were all going to be captured or killed in traffic, it didn't matter to him which group he died with, and Alona would never be so bold as to state her preference. In the end Gruff went with Tazar's group and Alona stayed with Waggit.

Before they went their separate ways, Tazar assembled the dogs.

“Listen up,” he commanded. “We all know how difficult this is going to be, but if we do as our guides tell us, and with luck on our side, we'll make it. But if for any reason I don't, Waggit becomes the team leader.
He's a fine dog, and I've taught him all I know. Now, I expect to be with you in our new home, but you never know what will happen. There's only one thing I ask of you: If you have to go on without me, keep the name Tazarians. The Waggits just doesn't have the same ring to it.”

There was a stunned silence. Nobody in the team had ever conceived of Tazar not being there. Waggit was especially taken aback; it was the first time the leader had officially declared him his successor. Cicero broke the hush.

“We must be on our way. We have to reach the havens before first light.”

The newly formed groups said their good-byes, brushing against each other and licking muzzles. Then they moved out, each headed in opposite directions—Tazar's to the south and Waggit's to the north. Pilodus led Waggit's dogs, with Cicero in the rear. Since the job of the last dog was to act as security against any danger that might creep up from behind, Waggit was nervous about having a one-eyed dog in that role.

They moved slowly and silently, using the parked vehicles that lined the sidewalks as cover. It was the closest most of them had ever been to cars, so they
were cautious and on edge. At this time of night the city had a strange, peaceful beauty. There was little traffic, and even fewer people. They had covered two blocks before they saw anyone. Their one encounter was with a young couple so obviously in love that they only had eyes for each other, and remained blissfully unaware that nine dogs lay hidden under the cars they passed. The buildings were elegant town houses, some with columns flanking the front doors at the top of wide steps. When the dogs came to the end of a block and had to negotiate a broad avenue, Pilodus would cross first and wait on the opposite corner. When it was safe to go, he would let out a soft “Yip” and one of the waiting dogs would then run over to him and quickly hide under a car. This was repeated until every dog was on the other side, and only then would they move forward.

After a few blocks Pilodus stopped at an intersection with an avenue that was different from the others. Normally the avenues ran at right angles to the cross streets, but this one went diagonally. It was wider and had a dividing strip in the middle planted with some bedraggled-looking flowers. Instead of immediately ushering the dogs across, Pilodus assembled them in
the front yard of a house and addressed them.

“Okay, here's the thing,” he said. “We gotta go on the updown now, and that's the most dangerous part of the journey tonight, 'cause there ain't much cover. The Uprights don't let their rollers sleep on updowns like they do on the crossovers.”

“What's an updown?” inquired Magica.

“It's a road that goes either up or down, depending on which way you go on it,” replied Pilodus. “Now we can either take the divider or the walking part. The divider's a bit safer because it's farther away from the Uprights, but it's also more dangerous on account of being closer to the rollers. The walking part's the opposite, but it does have the advantage of a few sleeping rollers for cover.”

“Are you saying we should choose?” asked Waggit.

“You're the ones most at risk,” Cicero intervened. “If any dog gets caught, it'll likely be one of you, not Pilodus or me. So you decide where you'd be most comfortable.”

Waggit looked at the center of the road and then at Lowdown. The old dog had been trying to keep up, but it was obvious that he was in a lot of pain and was beginning to limp badly. Scrambling up and down on
the raised beds that formed the divider would be hard on his short legs even without the stiffness and pain of his arthritis.

“We'll take the walking part,” Waggit said, without bothering to consult with the others, all of whom seemed perfectly happy to let him take charge.

“Fine with me,” said Pilodus. “The flowers on the divider make me sneeze anyway. Here's how we do it. We spread out with big gaps between dogs. That way if you're spotted, it looks like you're by yourself. Uprights won't bother about one free dog, but if they see all of us together, that's another matter. If you catch sight of an Upright, either hide under a sleeping roller, or walk, don't run, past them—and whatever you do,
don't look at them
. If they try to grab you, just run as fast as you can, and we'll send out searchers to find you!”

All this sounded like their worst nightmare come true, and more than one of them considered turning around and hightailing it back to the park. Waggit sensed this and knew he had to say something.

“We can do it” was the best he could come up with.

Somewhat despondently they set off. Pilodus went first, keeping close to the curb, moving briskly
but casually until he was halfway up the block. At this point Magica set out, and then Gordo, who waited until she got to the same place before he left. Watching Gordo lumber along trying to look inconspicuous would have been hilarious under less serious circumstances. Then Little One and Little Two left together. Although Pilodus had told everybody to go one by one, Little One and Little Two were so inseparable that it never occurred to them to follow this command.

Waggit could see the reason for spreading out, but he was worried that the distance between the lead dog and the tail end would be so great that they would be unable to communicate with each other should something happen. He was just about to express this fear to Cicero when their luck changed. The storms that had been threatening ever since they'd left the park suddenly broke, and torrential rain began to pour down on them. It was so heavy that you could barely see a paw in front of your face. The few cars and taxis on the road crawled almost to a halt. The raindrops came down so fast and heavy that they stung the dogs' eyes and drenched their coats. It was the perfect weather for a group of stray dogs to pass
unnoticed through the streets of New York.

Cicero reacted first.

“Come on, let's go!” he yelled. “Bunch up and run.”

And run they did, water streaming off the ends of their ears and tails. They ran block after block until suddenly Pilodus and the rain stopped, almost at the same time.

“This way,” he told the panting dogs. “We need to cut across here.”

They quickly ran to the other side of the wide and scary road that they had just navigated, eager to head down the quieter and safer cross streets. But there was one problem. Lowdown was nowhere to be seen.