Secondhand Dogs

by Carolyn Crimi

  And the coyote, Gus knew, was never very far from them. It seemed to be moving with the pack. Gus scanned the bushes, hoping to see the glow of its eyes, but the coyote kept itself hidden.

  Roo felt the coyote, too. She and Gus exchanged a few worried glances when the smell of it was particularly strong.

  When Gus wasn’t worrying about the coyote, he was worrying about Decker. He was an unpredictable dog, and that concerned Gus. It was hard to plan a strategy if he didn’t know how Decker would react.

  “You know, Gus, Decker is sleeping in your bed during the day, and he’s sleeping in Miss Lottie’s bed at night,” Roo told him.

  Gus bristled at the idea of Decker in his bed. The bed Miss Lottie had sewn just for him. The bed that smelled like his favorite tennis balls. The bed he had slept in ever since he arrived at Miss Lottie’s years ago.

  “He says he’s in charge now,” Roo continued. She eyed Gus nervously as they trotted down the alley in the moonlight.

  “Well, he’s not,” Gus snapped.

  “I feel like maybe I had something to do with that,” Roo said. “The way I followed him around and all. But then he started acting weird and mean. Ugh!” She shuddered. “You would never act that way, Gus. You’re always so sweet and kind.” She gently rubbed her nose against his. “You’re a true pack leader. Not him.”

  Gus felt like his heart might burst “Thanks, Roo,” he said quietly.

  They all kept going, Tank grunting with each step, Roo raising her ears or twitching her nose every so often.

  “I can’t wait to take a long nap in my bed, that’s for sure,” Tank said.

  “Me, too,” Gus said.

  Roo stopped walking. She stood in the middle of the alley, quivering.

  “Roo? What’s wrong?” Gus said.

  But then he smelled it. Coyote.

  “Don’t move,” Roo said.

  They stood, ears trembling, noses in the air.

  The coyote was close, all right. One house away, maybe two.

  “Hey,” Gus said. “Where’s Moonie?”

  “I don’t know,” Roo said. She sniffed the air.

  Gus’s heart beat faster. “Moonie? Come on, now. No playing,” he said.

  Tank raced ahead of them on his short, stubby legs. “Moonie, where are you?” he yelled. He stopped and frantically looked from one side of the alley to the other.

  Gus scanned the bushes at the edge of the alley. If Moonie was there, he was doing a good job of hiding.

  “Moonie!” Tank called. He ran down the alley faster than Gus had ever seen him run. “Come back!”

  “Tank, wait, no!” Roo said.

  And then they all heard it. A growl so fierce and menacing, it sent a cold wave of fear down Gus’s back.

  “Tank! Help me!” yelled Moon Pie.

  Tank spun around and raced toward Moon Pie’s voice.

  “Tank, stop! Be careful!” Gus yelled. He sprinted after Tank, with Roo at his side.

  They backtracked until they came to a garage with a line of trash cans along the side of it. One of them had tipped over. Half a burger and some fries were sprawled across the papers and empty cans. Moon Pie was cowering against the garage. Standing between him and the burger was the coyote.

  “Help, please, help!” Moon Pie cried.

  Gus froze. His mouth went dry. Every hair on his body tingled.

  The coyote had matted fur and long teeth. It growled at them as they edged closer.

  Moon Pie whimpered. “I was so hungry and I stopped to eat this burger and then he was here! Help!”

  “It’s okay,” Gus said quietly. “We won’t let anything happen to you.”

  But coyotes were fast and vicious. Gus’s pack was tired and hurt. If the coyote attacked, Gus worried they wouldn’t be able to defend themselves.

  “I’m afraid,” Moon Pie said.

  “Stay calm, Moonie,” Gus said. “We’re here now.” He tried to make his voice sound firm, but it came out wobbly.

  The coyote pinned its ears back and snarled at Moon Pie.

  Tank growled. A loud, angry growl. He took two steps toward the coyote.

  “Tank . . . ,” Gus warned.

  “He’s not going to hurt my Moonie!” Tank said. He barked a few sharp barks and pawed at the ground as if he were about to charge. “Besides, there’s only one of him!”

  Tank snapped his jaws. Spittle flew across the pavement.

  The air changed.

  The sharp, dangerous scent of the coyote was still there. Still dark and heavy.

  But there was something else, too. Something beneath the cold, watery scent.

  Fear.

  Gus took a slow, tentative step toward the coyote. He could see the wild creature’s ribs. He smelled its hunger and its pain.

  But mostly he smelled its fear.

  The coyote looked at Gus with pale, frightened eyes. Its tail dipped down low. It was really just a pup. A pup without a pack.

  And Gus knew.

  He knew with his deep-down dogginess that this coyote was alone, and it was hungry, and it was just trying to survive in the only way it knew how.

  “Let him be, Tank,” Gus said.

  “What? No!” Tank said.

  “He’s hungry,” Gus said, without taking his eyes off the coyote. “And he doesn’t have a pack. That’s why he’s been following us. He needs the food we’ve been finding.” Gus nodded to the coyote. “Go ahead,” he said. “Eat it all. We’ll find something else.”

  Tank grunted. He backed away and stood next to Gus. “All right,” he said. “I guess it’s okay.”

  Moon Pie carefully crept around the coyote and stood next to Tank.

  “It’s the right thing to do,” Roo said quietly. “Gus always knows the right thing to do.”

  The coyote paused, then wolfed down the burger. It glanced up at Gus once, then went back to eating.

  “Come on,” Gus said to his pack. “Let’s go home.”

  Dealing with Decker, who was, by now, well rested and well fed, would be a lot tougher than dealing with this weak and sickly coyote.

  There would be a confrontation. Decker was slyer than Gus, and bolder. He didn’t care about consequences, and this bothered Gus more than anything. Decker had no compassion and didn’t obey the rules. He would bite, rip, tear. He would do whatever he could to keep them out.

  Gus had to be bigger than that. He had to be smarter. He just hoped his deep-down dogginess would show him how.

  Gus

  Just as Gus had expected, Roo found a promising garbage pail.

  “Lots of goodies inside this one,” she said. She had her front paws on the can and was sniffing at the lid. “Come on, help me out,” she said to them.

  They all put their front paws on it. One big shove sent it clattering to the ground. Greasy, gooey tidbits spilled out—onion rings, fried chicken, coleslaw, macaroni and cheese, Jell-O, poundcake, as well as a few other things they weren’t quite sure of. They gobbled it down within minutes.

  “That was fun!” Moon Pie said. “We’re just like that wild coyote!”

  “Well, not quite,” Gus said, thinking of the way the lone coyote’s ribs poked out of its fur.

  The journey home was easier after their feast. Soon they were only a block away from Miss Lottie’s.

  “So what’s our plan, Gus?” asked Tank.

  Gus kept walking, thoughts swirling around in his brain. He didn’t believe in fighting. He believed in the power of the pack, and that all dogs could find peace if they could see how important they were to the pack. Roo, with her amazing speed and sniffing abilities. Tank’s fierceness and loyalty. Moon Pie’s charm. They all had their gifts, each and every one of them.

  If that was so, if every dog had a gift, what was Decker’s? There didn’t seem to be any goodness in him at all.

  And yet, in a strange way, Decker had made the pack stronger. More unified. And more honest. They probably never would have told Moon Pie about Gertie if Decker hadn’
t forced them to. Maybe bringing the pack together was Decker’s strange gift.

  “Well?” Tank asked.

  Miss Lottie’s fence was in full view now. Gus saw the hole they had all escaped through and the gate Quinn was always careful to close and the garden rake that had lain in the grass all fall.

  “We don’t fight,” Gus said.

  “Gus—” Tank began.

  “No, Tank,” Gus said firmly. “There will be another way. There always is.”

  Instead of crawling through the tight hole that had scratched Tank so badly, they decided to wait by the fence. Gus knew the coyote wouldn’t be bothering them now. The sun would be up in a few hours, and then Miss Lottie would be bringing Decker out for his morning time in the yard.

  The wind howled through the trees. Gus shivered. He felt a deep ache in his bones. He tried to rest, but it was too cold.

  Tank wandered over and plunked down next to him. Roo and Moon Pie followed. They snuggled in close. Gus smelled their fur and their warm breath. He sighed and let his eyes close. They would need all their strength for whatever was ahead.

  Quinn

  The alley was silent, except for the sound of the wind in the trees and Quinn’s wheels skidding across the pavement.

  Maybe there was nothing to be excited about. Maybe the strange feeling he had had in the bathroom about the four dogs returning home was just that—a strange feeling, nothing more.

  Quinn pedaled faster, thinking of what would happen if Gus and the others returned. Ever since the new dog had arrived, things had changed, and Miss Lottie didn’t seem to understand. Maybe Decker did look like her sweet Mr. Beans, but Decker’s eyes told another story.

  Quinn knew that all dogs were different, like people. Some were touchy, which could make them nippy. Others were mistrusting. Some had led tough lives and were wary of new humans or new dogs.

  Quinn understood this. It was why he was so good with them. He knew all about the loss of trust, and how someone who was supposed to be your family could turn out to be your worst enemy.

  But now he also knew that all that could change, and like his dad’s old wool hat hanging on a hook, hope and love were never far away.

  The cold night air bit his face and his hands, but he couldn’t go back. He kept pedaling until he saw them, just as he knew he would.

  They were curled up in a big ball of fur. Quinn walked his bike up behind them. They all jumped at the sound of tires on the cement.

  “You’re back,” Quinn said quietly. His heart swelled as relief poured over him.

  They were safe. His family was safe.

  They raced over to him on stiff and wobbly legs. They wiggled their bodies and wagged their tails wildly while taking turns jumping on him.

  “Moon Pie, we were so worried!” Quinn said, his voice trembling. He lay his bike down and sat on the ground, pulling Moon Pie into his lap.

  The other dogs climbed all over him, nudging his cheeks with their cold, wet noses and pawing at his legs and arms.

  Tears rolled down Quinn’s face. Gus licked them off.

  “You’re back, you’re really back,” Quinn whispered.

  He wiped his face with his sleeve, then got up, leaned his bike against the fence, and led them through the gate.

  Early morning sunlight filled the yard and lit up the dogs’ coats. The whole scene—wiggling dogs and sunny yard—belonged in a scrapbook. He never wanted to forget this moment.

  “Miss Lottie is going to be so happy,” he said. He rapped on the door loudly. He heard footsteps and the door being unlocked, and then it swung open.

  “Oh my goodness!” Miss Lottie cried.

  She paused a moment, hands clasped to her chest, before crouching down and accepting the dogs into her arms. She muttered “oh my goodness” over and over as tears streamed down her cheeks.

  Quinn stared at his feet. He was afraid he might cry in front of Miss Lottie. He hadn’t cried in front of anyone for a long time. Crying, he found, had always made things worse.

  “This never would have happened if I had fixed the fence,” he said quietly. “Or if I had been paying attention when they were out in the yard. I should have . . . I don’t know . . . been better . . . helped more . . .”

  He couldn’t finish. His throat was tight with tears.

  Miss Lottie stood. She gave him a big smile, then pulled him into her warm, squishy body for a hug.

  “It’s okay,” she said quietly, rocking him gently. “It’s all going to be okay.”

  Roo

  As soon as Roo entered the house, she paused, her body tense, her tail stiff. Where was Decker? She couldn’t see him, but she could smell Decker’s anger wafting from Miss Lottie’s bedroom. She wondered if he would be angriest at her. After all, she had gone along with his leadership for a little while. She had been his sidekick. And everyone knew she was the best at tracking smells. He would probably blame her for bringing them all back.

  Roo felt the urge to MOVE. She started to spin.

  “Roo, shhh, it’s okay,” Quinn said. He bent down and held her around her waist to keep her from spinning.

  Roo caught her breath. She gave Quinn a quick lick on the cheek before he stood.

  “How did you know they were there?” Miss Lottie asked Quinn. She took an apple out of the fridge and handed it to him.

  Quinn bit into the apple. “I just sort of felt it, I guess.”

  Miss Lottie frowned and nodded. “Funny. I got up to get some water and decided to look out in the yard. I’m not sure why.” She shook her head and laughed. “And there you were! With them! Incredible!”

  After lots more hugging, Miss Lottie poured heaps of dried kibble into bowls for each dog, mixed in with some wet food, and refilled their water bowls. She plopped an especially large treat into each bowl.

  “There!” she said. “Have at it!”

  Roo and the others raced to the bowls, bent their heads down, and got to work. Their slurping noises filled the kitchen.

  “There he is!” cried Miss Lottie. “How about this, eh, Decker? Your pals are back!”

  Roo stopped eating. She turned to see Decker in the kitchen doorway, glaring.

  “What are you doing here?” Tank asked. “Don’t you know you don’t belong?”

  “Quiet, Tank,” Gus warned.

  Decker sat. He licked his paw. “Oh, I belong here, all right. You’re the ones who don’t belong.”

  Roo choked on her food.

  “Oh, Roo, honey, slow down!” Miss Lottie said. She knelt down and stroked Roo’s fur until Roo stopped coughing. “You’re safe now. Everything’s okay.”

  Roo wished she could be that sure.

  Gus

  After cleaning Tank’s and Moon Pie’s scratches, Miss Lottie spread a thick and smelly ointment on them. Quinn fixed the hole in the fence, but Gus wasn’t worried about any of them escaping again. It was Decker he was worried about. When the dogs were out in the yard, he kept Decker within his field of vision at all times. If Decker got up to move, Gus moved with him, making sure he was only a few feet away.

  Decker barely seemed to notice. He looked calm, as if nothing in the world could bother him. But Gus knew that something must bother him; otherwise, he wouldn’t act the way he did. Dogs like Decker had deep wounds. It was only a matter of finding out where they were.

  The day wore on. Gus grew wearier and wearier. By the time Miss Lottie started turning out the lights, he was splayed out on his bed.

  “Moon Pie, you’ve been through a lot, you little sweetie,” Miss Lottie said, swooping the small dog into her arms. “I’m sure Decker won’t mind sleeping out here tonight, will you, Decker? I haven’t made a bed for you yet, but this couch should do for now.”

  Miss Lottie patted the old plaid couch in the family room. Decker simply stared at Moon Pie in Miss Lottie’s arms.

  “It’s only eight thirty, but I’m beat,” Miss Lottie said. “Good night, kiddos.” She blew them all a kiss before turning out the las
t light.

  As soon as the lights were off, Roo got up from her bed and snuggled in next to Tank on his big bed.

  Gus heard Decker walk over to the couch and hop up onto it. Maybe he was tired, too. It had been a tense day for all of them.

  When he heard Decker snoring, Gus let out a sigh of relief. They had made it through the day without a fight. He rested his head on his paws and fell into an uneasy sleep.

  Moon Pie

  Moon Pie squirmed in Miss Lottie’s arms.

  “Okay, okay,” Miss Lottie said, laughing. She put Moon Pie down in the middle of the bed. “Happy now?”

  Moon Pie barked one sharp bark, stuck his butt in the air, then scooted around the bed in small circles.

  “What a silly little boy!” Miss Lottie said. “It’s only a bed!”

  Oh, but Miss Lottie’s bed was so much more! It was soft and bouncy, and the blankets weren’t too thick or too thin. Good smells were smeared all over it, spread thick like peanut butter on bread. Moon Pie detected popcorn and butter and salt and salami. He rolled on his back, rubbing the smells into his fur.

  Then there were the smells of Miss Lottie herself, her skin, her hair, the dirt and grass of her yard, all the soapy, sweaty goodness that made her unique.

  And was that ham? With mayo? Moon Pie dug his face into her pillow to get a better sniff.

  But then there were the Decker smells, too, smells that made Moon Pie pause. Decker had a cold, watery smell. Moon Pie hoped Miss Lottie would be washing his smell out soon.

  Miss Lottie sat down on the bed and patted a space beside her. “Come here, little one! I missed you!”

  Moon Pie hopped over a pillow and landed on Miss Lottie’s lap.

  Miss Lottie had tears in her eyes as she stroked Moon Pie’s ears. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again. I missed you so much.” She picked him up and held him in her arms before putting him back down on the bed. “Don’t play any more silly tricks like that, okay?”

  She got up and headed into the bathroom. Soon Moon Pie heard the water running. The sounds of Miss Lottie gargling made Moon Pie sigh. He was home. Home home home. He closed his eyes and dug his nose into the pillow. He had missed this. Even though it was exciting being out on his own with the rats and the pizza and the coyote, he had missed this cozy bed with its warm smells.