Bella's Story Page 7
I swallowed one last mouthful and lifted my head, and the scent of blood touched my nose. I began to lick my lips as I followed it along the wind. Big Kitten followed me.
I pushed through some tall grass and saw an animal I had seen once before, sitting on a rock and screaming out a strange bark. It was a fox, trotting across a little meadow with the limp body of a rabbit in its mouth. The fox turned its head, straining with the weight of its prey, and saw us.
For a moment all three of us were frozen. Then Big Kitten darted forward, so fast I was surprised. I leaped after her, and we both went after that fox.
The fox was as swift as Big Kitten! It pulled ahead, and I knew we were going to lose that delicious food if we didn’t do something quick. I barked and lunged forward. The fox turned nimbly to head away from me—but that meant it was closer to Big Kitten, who sprang at it from the other side.
The fox leaped over a fallen log and escaped, but that didn’t matter. It had dropped the rabbit when Big Kitten sprang.
We fed on the fox’s kill together. We were a pack, Big Kitten and me.
* * *
We didn’t often get food like that rabbit. Hunger stayed with us as we traveled, as if it wanted to be part of our pack as well.
I knew that hunger meant I needed to find humans. Humans had all the good food.
But I had to be wary, too. Not all humans could be trusted.
There were special spots in the woods where people gathered. I could smell them. Sometimes the people slept in these spots, in small dens made of some sort of cloth. Sometimes they just stopped and sat there.
But always, always, they ate.
I could easily follow my nose to these human spots. Big Kitten did not like them, and she would hang back in the trees while I approached.
One day I came near a family who were all sitting at a wooden table. A fire burned in a sort of metal pot that was high off the ground, balanced on thin legs. A man put a large piece of meat on the top of this kettle, and the amazing odor of cooking meat exploded into the air.
Nothing had ever smelled so good!
The man turned his back on the meat, talking with the people at the table, and I knew it was my chance.
I bolted out of the woods, skidded to a stop, raised up on my back legs, and nipped at the piece of meat. I didn’t even burn my nose! The meat fell to the ground and I snatched it up and ran back.
None of the people even looked my way, except one. A baby sitting in a little plastic chair stared at me wide-eyed and waved tiny legs in the air, but none of the others saw what I had done.
I expected to feel like a bad dog, but I didn’t. I was hunting. This meat was my prey. I shared it with Big Kitten, and it drove the hunger out of our pack for a little while.
I was doing Go Home to Lucas, but along the way I was taking care of Big Kitten, the way he would have wanted.
Another day, I followed the smell of a human to find a man standing in a stream, waving a long stick at the water. On the bank beside him was a basket full of wet fish.
I trotted over, picked up the basket, and headed back toward the woods.
The man yelled at me from the water, and even though he didn’t say I was a bad dog, I could hear anger in his words. He began to scramble out of the stream, coming after me.
I picked up my pace, but the basket of fish was heavy, straining my neck and my jaws. I hoped I wouldn’t have to drop it as the fox had been forced to drop the rabbit.
It turned out that I didn’t have to. The man slipped on the rocks beneath the surface and, still yelling, fell flat on his back in the water! Once I was far away from him, deep into the trees, Big Kitten and I shared all of the fish. It felt so good to have a full stomach.
Most of the time when I smelled people, I found that they had already left by the time I reached the human spot. That was all right, because they left their food behind, in tall metal cans.
I became very good at knocking these cans over and picking through paper and plastic to find the feasts hidden there. Big Kitten did not come with me, but if I found something big enough to carry, I would take it back to her.
Finding food took a lot of time, and so our progress toward Lucas was slow. It was made even slower when we heard people and had to hide. I was sure that Big Kitten did not want to go for a car ride any more than I did.
I often smelled dogs, too, but I didn’t think Big Kitten would want to meet them. I longed to greet them and play with them, but they were with their people, just like I would be with Lucas someday soon.
One day I smelled dogs without humans, but I did not want to find these dogs and play with them. There was something wrong with their smell. The fur on my neck rose as I sniffed it.
I could smell that they had never had a bath. I could smell that they did not eat dog food and that no human had ever touched their fur.
I could also tell that they were tracking us, and they were getting closer.
* * *
Big Kitten and I were crossing a flat stretch of ground scattered with rocks and a few small trees. I stopped and turned to look behind. Big Kitten stopped, too.
There was a small pack of the creatures, a female and three young males. I thought of them as small, bad dogs. They were wild creatures, like the fox, but these were larger and more dangerous. They slunk toward us, low to the ground, and I knew they did not want to greet us or play with us. They were hunting us.
Big Kitten’s eyes turned dark. Her lips parted, showing her teeth. She was nearly as large as I was now, and we were both bigger than the small dogs, but I knew deep down that a pack of this many small animals was more powerful than a pack of two large ones.
We needed to run, but we couldn’t. Behind us a steep wall of rock jutted out of the earth’s surface. We could not possibly climb it. A few trees grew near its base, but they did not have trunks thick enough to hide behind.
Ahead of us was the threatening pack, now spread out across the ground to block us from escaping. I let out a low growl. This would be a fight.
The small dogs came forward cautiously. It was easy to see what they wanted. They planned to kill us and eat us.
I growled again, facing the danger.
14
As the killers approached, I felt a new kind of anger rising up inside me, a fury that made me tremble all over. These small, bad dogs were my enemies. I wanted to face them down, to fight them, to drive them away.
Big Kitten did not share my rage. I could feel and smell the terror in her. Her leg muscles bunched up underneath her body. She was going to run.
But running would not work. This was a pack, and a pack would chase. The rock wall behind us was unclimbable. If Big Kitten ran, it would be along the ground. The bad dogs would cut her off, and then they’d have her cornered.
Big Kitten did not understand the threat. She crouched down low and sprang away, racing along the base of the rock wall. The bad dogs knew exactly what to do when prey ran.
They chased her.
I barked anxiously and raced after Big Kitten as well. When they caught her, she should not be alone.
Big Kitten was fast, but the bad dogs were faster. I could not catch up in time. Now she had almost reached a stand of two or three small trees that grew close to the wall. I was running as quickly as I could, but the small dogs were almost on top of her. Their lips pulled back, their heads snaked forward, and their teeth were bared, ready to bite.
Then, somehow, Big Kitten bounded out from underneath them. It was exactly the way she bounded out from underneath me when we played—I’d almost have her, and then, with a twist and a leap, she’d be gone.
Big Kitten seemed to soar through the air toward one of the trees. Her claws snagged the trunk and she scampered nimbly up to a branch. Big Kitten could climb like a squirrel!
The bad dogs milled about, confused, looking up at their prey. Their tongues lolled. They backed away from the tree as if afraid that Big Kitten would leap down on them.
I didn’t pause, heading straight for the base of Big Kitten’s tree. I would make my stand there. I would protect her from this deadly threat.
The small dogs swiveled their heads toward me. I was alone. They were a pack.
I slowed a little, bracing myself. I had not reached the tree yet. This would not be easy.
The three males slunk toward me, cutting off my path toward the tree. When they were close enough that I could have reached them in two or three leaps, they backed off, dancing away.
The female stayed by the tree, glancing at me and then up at Big Kitten. Big Kitten hissed down at her, showing all her teeth.
I eased sideways so that the rock wall was at my back. The three males closed in again and then moved away. I knew that they were trying to lure me out so that they could set upon me from all sides.
My growling turned to barking, rage forcing itself into my voice. I lunged forward, but the small dog in front of me dodged away and another leaped at my side. I turned to face this attack, and a third bad dog came from the other side. The one in front danced tantalizingly close to my jaws and backed away again.
What were they doing? Why didn’t they fight?
I ached to chase them, to bite them, to feel their fur in my mouth. But I didn’t want to leave Big Kitten in her tree. Sooner or later, she would have to come down, and she would need me here to defend her.
Lucas would want me to save Big Kitten.
The small dogs were silent, but I went on barking fiercely, letting them know how big I was, how powerful, how angry. One darted in from the side, and I snapped at him. But my teeth bit only air. Then I spun and charged at another of the males who had leaped in from the other side. This time my teeth drew blood.
The small dog screamed and fell back.
I stood with my legs braced, my head low, while the threatening pack paced back and forth in front of me. Now they knew I was not easy prey. But they were not frightened enough to leave.
They still thought they could kill me.
Then I smelled something new on the air. The noses of the small dogs lifted as well. They smelled the same thing.
People.
“Hey!” a man’s voice shouted.
Several men burst from the trees, sprinting toward us across the flat ground. The small dogs wheeled and ran away, the males first, the female following. I chased them for a few steps, but I did not want to leave Big Kitten alone. I barked after my retreating enemies and swung back to return to the tree.
The men were breathing hard and slowing down. They had big sacks on their backs like the one Lucas wore when he said school and went away. They dropped these on the ground and came closer to me.
“Is she hurt?” I heard one of them pant. He had on a brightly colored shirt and he used it to wipe his face.
“Hey! Here, dog, here, doggie!” another called. His face was furry. I had not met a human with fur on his face before.
Above me, Big Kitten crouched down low on her branch. I heard her claws gripping the wood tightly.
I watched the men warily. Which kind of humans were these? The kind who were not safe? The kind who would take me farther away from Lucas?
Or the kind who might have food? At that thought, I swished my tail back and forth.
“Look! Look in the tree, the tree!” the man in the bright shirt called out suddenly.
“Is it a bobcat?” the man with the furry face asked.
“No, it’s a cougar, a young cougar!”
I heard Big Kitten move and looked up again. Her eyes were large and her ears were flat as she watched the men. Her fear was so powerful it made the air around us feel tense.
Her muscles bunched and knotted underneath her fur, and suddenly she sprang from the tree. She landed without a sound on top of the rock wall and vanished in an instant, darting behind some boulders.
Big Kitten! I ran to the base of the rock wall and barked, but I could not climb after her. The wall was far too steep.
“That was amazing!” the man in the bright shirt shouted.
“Here, girl, are you hurt? Did the coyotes hurt you? You okay?” asked another man. He carried a stick in each hand, reminding me of Mom. He set down one of the sticks and reached out in a friendly way.
I hesitated.
Should I chase Big Kitten? Should I go closer to these men? The man who was holding out his hand to me sounded kind. His voice was gentle. He crouched down so that he was low to the ground, on my level.
I edged toward him. When his hand was close enough, I licked it. I tasted some fish oil and dirt on his palm.
“She’s friendly,” he said.
He pulled a package from his pocket and fed me treats, small pieces of meat. They tasted so wonderful that saliva flooded my mouth. I was sorry Big Kitten could not have any, but that was not something I could fix right now. I did Sit to keep the treats coming.
“What are you doing way out here, girl?” the man with the furry face asked. He scratched behind my ear, and I leaned my head into his hand. It had been such a long time since I’d felt a human’s hand in my fur.
“Look, she’s got a collar. She’s not a stray,” the man with the sticks said. “She’s lost.”
“You want to take her with us?”
“Well, we can’t leave her out here by herself.”
I went over and sniffed at one of the sacks on the ground, reminding the men that there were snacks inside that could be shared with a good dog. I did Sit again, being good.
“She sure looks hungry,” Furry Face said.
“You want to give her one of those tuna packs?” Stick Man said.
“Yeah, let’s do that. Then I bet she’ll follow us anywhere.”
Shirt Man crouched down and took a shiny package out of a sack. He opened it up, and the air was full of a delicious fragrance of oily fish.
He put chunks of fish on a rock and I ate them as fast as I could. Then I looked up with my tail wagging hard. More?
“How far to the campsite?” asked Furry Face.
“Maybe two miles yet.”
“We better get going, then.”
15
The men picked up their sacks and put them on their backs. It did not look like there would be any more fish. Humans are wonderful and they can always find food, but sometimes they don’t understand how much a dog can eat.
They did not put me on a leash or call me, but the way they looked at me suggested that they wanted me to follow them. I got in line behind them, and soon we were back on a path.
But they were walking in the wrong direction, away from where I needed to go. Away from Lucas.
I felt torn inside. I needed to do Go Home. But that fish had been so good …
I followed the men.
We walked and walked and then crossed a small stream. The breeze drifting over the water brought me the scent of Big Kitten. She was nearby.
The men did not seem to notice her. People are like that. They often don’t seem to realize when something marvelously smelly is right there. They’ll walk past the most amazing odors without pausing.
That is why every person should have a dog with them. We don’t miss such things.
Just as the light began to fade from the sky, the men and I reached a place where a truck was parked. Little cloth dens had been set up, and I could smell the men on them. This was a place they had been before.
There was a big plastic box, too, and the men opened it up and took food out of it. Food!
There were brown bottles that they clinked together and a sack of bread and a big plastic package with ham inside it. Ham! Wonderful ham! I did Sit over and over, and they laughed and fed me piece after piece.
I loved ham very much.
Something happened to me as I fed, though. As my hunger faded, my longing for Lucas grew. The need for food had pushed away my need for Lucas, and now the need for Lucas was pushing back. I decided that very soon, Big Kitten and I would be back to doing Go Home.
I just wanted a littl
e bit more of that ham.
Furry Face reached out and took hold of my collar with one hand while he gave me a piece of ham with the other. “Let’s see,” he said, and gave the collar a tug so that it slid off over my ears.
“Her name’s Bella. Hey, Bella, you like ham, huh?” he said. “Want some more?”
“Is there a phone number?” the man with the sticks asked.
“Yep. We can call when we get somewhere with decent reception.”
“Good. I wouldn’t want to take her to a shelter. She’s a good girl. Bella, you’re a good girl, right?”
I wagged. I liked these men. They knew my name and understood that if I did Sit it was important to give me ham.
“That cougar was amazing, huh?” Shirt Man said. “I never saw one before.”
“Looked like a cub to me. That’s even more rare,” said Stick Man. “I’ve never seen coyotes before, either.”
“A cub? No way! Full grown, or almost,” said Furry Face.
I nudged at his hand, which still held my collar, so he’d remember I was still being a good dog and doing Sit.
“Thing was huge! What do you mean, a cub?” asked Shirt Man.
“No way. You just thought it was huge because you were scared,” said Stick Man.
“Scared? You’re nuts.”
“If it comes back, you know what to do, right? You get up on something, like a picnic table or a rock or the cooler, and lift your arms up. Spread out your jacket if you can, so you look really big. That’ll make them back off.”
“Why?” Shirt Man asked.
“I don’t know,” Stick Man replied. “Maybe they think you’re a bear or something.”
Furry Face snorted. “I’m pretty sure they can tell you’re a tax accountant.”
“Okay, sure.” Shirt Man looked around a little anxiously. “You think it’s going to come back?”