Waggit Again

by Peter Howe

  He suddenly heard a thump, and Tashi’s body was lifted clean off the ground. To Waggit’s complete amazement he rolled over to see Lug furiously fighting with their enemy. Tazar, who seemed to have recovered from his shock, now stood with an astonished look on his face as he watched the most timid dog anyone had ever known attacking the toughest.

  Waggit, Tazar, and the other members of the team tried to intervene in the intense combat, but the action was so fearsome and violent that nobody could get close, nor would they have been able to separate the two. They would have been just as likely to bite Lug as Tashi, as the two of them rolled over and over, first one on top and then the other. Because both dogs looked so similar it was often hard to tell them apart. As the fight continued both teams gathered around, their enmity momentarily forgotten, mesmerized by the action.

  The Tazarians gasped when they thought they saw Tashi’s teeth sink into Lug’s flesh, and cheered Lug on when it appeared he had Tashi on the ground. Then, as quickly as it had started, it ended. Lug moved away from Tashi and sat, panting hard, covered in Tashi’s blood. Tashi lay prostrate on the ground, blood pouring from his many wounds. He looked up at Tazar with loathing in his eyes.

  “My dying curse on you, Tazar. May it follow you forever.”

  These were his last words as his malevolent eyes closed and he lay still. The Tazarians gathered around Lug, telling him how brave he was, what a good fighter, and how they all owed him a big debt. Waggit could see how proud the victorious dog was, and he realized that Lug was now as much a part of the team as he was himself. Then over all the congratulations and expressions of admiration came the voice of Tazar.

  “So, Olang,” he cried, “is this your final betrayal?”

  “No, Father, you’re the one who betrayed me,” replied Olang, “with all your ‘Oh, the team’s so great,’ and ‘Oh, Lowdown’s so wise,’ and ‘Oh, Waggit’s just like a son.’ Well, what about me? What about my feelings? What about your real son? I didn’t betray you. It was you who forced me to find another father, and now you’ve taken him away as well.”

  Tazar stood there, gazing at his son, a pitiful look on his face. At that moment the entire team could see the intense grief that he had been covering up.

  “Olang, come back home.” Tazar broke down. “I love the team, but I love you more. Come home and let’s forgive each other.”

  “You may forgive me, but I’ll never forgive you. You may have killed one enemy, but another has sprung up in his place. I will not rest until I avenge Tashi’s death.”

  He turned, cast one last hateful look over his shoulder, and with Wilbur and the assortment of pathetic creatures that had been Tashi’s team by his side, he disappeared once again into the woods.

  The Tazarians stood there awkwardly, not quite knowing what to do next, when suddenly they heard a thump behind them. They all turned to see Lug lying on the ground, a large crimson pool spreading beneath his body. Waggit ran over to him, and then he saw the terrible wound in the dog’s neck. They had all assumed he was covered in Tashi’s blood, but, in fact, most of it was his own. Waggit started to lick Lug all over his face, and the fallen animal looked up at him with a proud expression.

  “I was brave, wasn’t I, Waggit?” he asked faintly.

  “You were very, very brave,” said Waggit. “You saved my life.”

  “That’s only fair,” replied Lug. “You saved mine a couple of times.”

  “Be still,” said Waggit. “Rest easy.”

  There was silence as Lug breathed shallowly.

  “It feels good to be brave, doesn’t it, Waggit?” he whispered.

  “Yes,” agreed Waggit, “it does.”

  “I’m not going to be scared anymore. I’m going to be brave for the rest of my life.”

  Waggit lay down by Lug’s side, still licking his face, warming the injured dog with his body. Lug looked up at him, smiled peacefully, and then was no more.

  23

  Chance Meeting

  People think that dogs can’t cry. They can. It’s just that their tears run down their noses instead of coming out of their eyes. That day, and for several days to come, there were many sniffly noses on the team. Everyone agreed that Lug would have made a fine Tazarian had he lived, and that his strength and newfound courage would have been invaluable to the team. They also agreed that they should have been kinder to him, should have seen his good qualities instead of dismissing him for his timidity. Nobody felt this more than Waggit. Lug was dead, killed while saving Waggit’s life. It was a weight that he felt he would carry for as long as he lived.

  The scene that confronted them when they returned to the pipe didn’t help either. They left Gordo guarding Lug’s body while they went back to tell Felicia what had happened, only to find her beaming with pleasure. In front of her was another of the celebratory feasts that she occasionally put together when she felt their spirits needed lifting or when they had done something particularly noteworthy.

  “Why, there you all are,” she said as she fussed around, arranging the food in a pile for each team member. “I thought we would have a little meal together to celebrate Waggit, Lug, and me being in the park for three months, which, as you know, is a quarter of a year.”

  She glanced up from what she was doing and saw for the first time the long faces and sad body language of the animals in front of her.

  “Something terrible has happened, hasn’t it?” she asked.

  They told her the whole story, and by the time they finished tears were rolling down her cheeks.

  “Oh my,” she said, “that poor, brave boy. Such courage, such heroism. What a tragedy.”

  None of which made them feel any better.

  When Felicia had stopped crying they went back to where Gordo was guarding Lug’s body. She bent down, gently picked him up, and holding him closely to her chest she carried him back to the big willow tree where she and Lug had spent his last night. She lay him down on the earth near the tree, and the team gathered around silently in a circle. The silence lasted until Tazar went over to the body and spoke to it.

  “Brother Lug, you have slain our enemy. Because of your sacrifice all the creatures who live in the park are safer. You also saved the life of our dear brother Waggit. Because of your love for him you found the courage you didn’t know you had. May all of us in this team live bravely through the love we feel for each other, and may we find the strength through the team that we couldn’t find by ourselves.”

  Once more there was silence as each of the dogs looked down at Lug. It was broken by Alicia, who spoke in a remarkably subdued voice.

  “You know, he may not have been a purebred, but he was a good guy.”

  This was about the highest praise she could have given, and nobody felt they needed to add more.

  “We must bury him,” said Tazar, “before the Ruzelas come and throw him away like trash.”

  And so they each took turns to dig a hole just downstream from the willow tree. Everyone wanted to do his or her part toward the excavation. Even Lowdown managed a few scoops of earth with his arthritic legs. Soon there was a deep hole that was to be Lug’s final home. Felicia laid his body in it along with two rawhide chews. “Just in case,” she said, without saying in case of what. The team then pushed the earth back, and as the dirt began to pile up on his remains they worked quicker, fearful that their hearts would break before the task was finished. When the hole was filled in Felicia dragged some large rocks over to cover it up, and at the end of one of the rocks she made a little pile of stones standing on top of each other to form a small tower so they would always know where he was and always remember him.

  Later on, as that terrible day drew to a close, Waggit lay in the spot where Lug used to sleep in Felicia’s tent.

  “I should have been nicer to him,” he said.

  “He irritated you,” she replied. “You couldn’t help feeling it any more than he could help doing it. It was just the way it was. And don’t forget, you saved
his life twice! If you hadn’t gone after those men behind the bar I don’t think that there’s any doubt they would have killed him, and you risked your own life and possible capture to give me enough time to get him out of the Dumpster.”

  “I suppose so,” said Waggit, although he didn’t sound convinced.

  “You were very brave then. Why do you think Lug was so in awe of you? It was because he saw in you the courage that he didn’t think he had,” said Felicia. “He knew that you found him annoying, but he also knew that he could rely on you, and that you would take care of him.”

  Waggit sighed and lay against Felicia. The warmth of her body was consoling, just as the warmth of Lowdown’s, Gordo’s, or any of the other team members was comforting. In fact, he thought, he didn’t consider her human at all, but more like a very large, two-legged dog, and he was pretty sure that the rest of the team felt the same way. Tonight he would sleep in the tent, but tomorrow he would return to his brothers and sisters in the pipe. His place was with them and he knew it, but tonight he would stay with his tall friend and take solace from her compassion.

  Each member of the team reacted to the tragedy in a different way in the days that followed. Alona went back to being the solitary dog she had been before she joined the team and was rarely seen at all; Gordo ate even more when food was available and obsessively chewed sticks when it wasn’t; Tazar covered up his pain by relentlessly organizing everything and everyone; Magica mothered Little One and Little Two even though both dogs were now well beyond the age and size where mothering was needed; Alicia groomed herself so much that the other dogs were worried she would actually lick off parts of her coat and leave bald spots.

  It wasn’t just grief that the team had to face, but fear as well. Even though Tazar’s speech had moved them all, it wasn’t entirely accurate. If Olang led Tashi’s old team the way the pit bull himself had, and if the attacks on humans continued, as it seemed Olang was threatening, then the Tazarians were no safer than they had been before Tashi’s death. Furthermore, Olang, unlike Tashi, knew exactly where the pipe was and where the sentries were posted. It was a situation that made everybody very nervous.

  Waggit divided his time between Lowdown and Felicia. Each of them gave him comfort in their own ways. Lowdown always had the ability to look at life’s events, both good and bad, philosophically, neither exaggerating nor denying their importance, but putting them into a perspective that Waggit found reassuring. Felicia provided him with a connection to Lug. Waggit would go for long walks with her and talk about their lost companion, which would then lead to other subjects, such as the nature of courage, and loyalty, and any number of things that the young dog was thinking about for the first time.

  It was on one such occasion that the two friends were walking along the Risingside. It was one of those early autumn days that are warm and almost springlike. Waggit was feeling better than he had in several days and trotted along beside Felicia, who was holding on to the leash she always attached when a dog was accompanying her to the more populated areas of the park. They had been talking of this and that, nothing of great importance, when she suddenly felt the leash go tight. She turned to look at Waggit, who had stopped with his ears pricked and his head tilted to one side. He was clearly listening to sounds that were inaudible to her.

  “What is it, Waggit?” she asked. “What can you hear?”

  “Shhhh,” he said curtly.

  Suddenly he started pulling her forward.

  “Can you hear it?” he asked, but she could not.

  They had only gone a short distance when he stopped once more.

  “There it is again,” he said. “You must be able to hear it now.”

  She strained her ears, turning her head back and forth, and then she did hear the faint sound of someone singing, fading in and out of the hum of the city. They moved forward in its direction until it became quite clear. It was a beautiful but sad song that drifted its sorrowful way over the bushes and the trees.

  “It’s her,” said Waggit.

  “Who?” inquired Felicia.

  “The woman.”

  “Which woman?”

  “The woman who abandoned me at the farm,” said Waggit.

  “Are you sure?” asked Felicia.

  “I’d know that voice anywhere. She used to sing all the time when I lived with her.”

  “Let’s go and see where she is,” said Felicia, moving forward, but she had only gone two steps before she felt the leash pull tight in her hand. She turned to see Waggit sitting down on his haunches, his front legs splayed out, refusing to move.

  “Come on, Waggit,” she said. “She’s not going to bite you. In fact, in the mood you’re in now, you’re more likely to bite her.”

  “I don’t want to,” said Waggit sulkily.

  “Why not?” asked Felicia.

  “I don’t like her,” replied Waggit. “I trusted her and she let me down.”

  “We don’t know that,” said Felicia. “There could be many reasons why she left you there. Wouldn’t you like to know why it happened?”

  Waggit had to admit that why she had just dumped him in that horrible place remained a complete mystery to him.

  “I suppose,” he said.

  “She doesn’t have to see you. You can hide in some bushes while I talk to her. Come on, it’ll be worth it just to find out.”

  And so, still somewhat reluctantly, Waggit walked with Felicia in the direction of the sound. He knew exactly where the woman would be, in the same spot where the two of them had first met when he was just a puppy, and a hungry puppy at that. It was at the end of his first winter in the park, just as spring was starting to warm the air and humans were returning, relieved that the dark, cold days were almost over. She would come and sit on a rock, eat her lunch, and practice her songs. It had been her food rather than her music that had attracted Waggit, and she had shared it with him generously.

  With some trepidation he approached the place where they had met and where he had been captured. Because he knew the location better than Felicia, he went first and brought them around to the side where a dense clump of bushes hid them from the woman’s sight. He tensed as he saw her through the leaves. Watching her as she sang he felt such a mixture of emotions—anger, of course, because she’d abandoned him, but also, to his surprise, affection for her. He had warm memories of the life they had led: the soft bed she bought him and her scratching his stomach while he lay on it; the walks; the games in the park close to where they stood now; the two dogs who lived in the same building and who became his close friends. It may have lacked freedom, but living with her hadn’t been bad at all.

  “Stay here and don’t twitch a whisker,” Felicia whispered to him, and she moved out, around the bushes and toward the woman.

  24

  The Mystery Solved

  The woman sat on the rock looking down at the sheet music on her lap. She was so absorbed in what she was doing that she failed to notice Felicia’s approach.

  “You sing beautifully,” Felicia said.

  The woman jumped, almost dropping the music.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t hear you. Thank you.”

  “Are you a professional?” asked Felicia.

  “Yes,” replied the woman. “Whenever I can, I come here to practice. It makes it a little easier on the neighbors.”

  “I always wanted to sing,” Felicia said with a sigh, “but unfortunately I can’t carry a tune in the proverbial bucket.”

  “I like it because if you’re sad you can sing sad songs, and if you’re happy, happy ones,” said the woman.

  “Then you must be sad today. That song is a very sad one,” Felicia remarked.

  The woman smiled wistfully.

  “Well, maybe a little.”

  “I’m Felicia.” She offered her hand.

  “I’m Ruth,” said the woman, shaking it.

  Felicia sat next to Ruth, and, as she did, a runner went past with a panting dog
in tow. When the dog saw the two women she tried to pull the runner toward them, without success.

  “Cute dog,” said Felicia. “I love dogs, don’t you?”

  Ruth paused before answering.

  “I do,” she finally replied, “but they can make you sad sometimes, too.”

  “That’s true,” said Felicia, “but they also give you a lot of love and joy. Do you have a dog?”

  “I used to,” answered Ruth sadly, “but I lost him, and I haven’t had the heart to get another.”

  “When you say you lost him,” said Felicia, “do you mean he died?”

  “No,” replied Ruth, “I mean I really lost him. He disappeared.” There was a pause, and then she said, “Do you have a dog?”

  Felicia chuckled. “You wouldn’t believe how many dogs I live with.”

  Ruth gave her a look that indicated she would believe almost anything of the strange-looking woman.

  “How did your dog get lost?” Felicia asked.

  “It’s a long story.”

  “Tell me,” Felicia persisted.

  “Well, like I said,” Ruth began, “I make my living as a singer. Usually I work around the city, but one day my agent called to say that a cruise ship was looking for a performer to replace someone who was sick, and could I leave straightaway. It was a three-month engagement, and the money was good, but I couldn’t take my dog, so I had to quickly make arrangements for him to be looked after. I couldn’t afford to put him in a kennel for all that time, and also I was worried that he would be scared there. He was a rescue dog, and the kennel would have looked like the pound where I got him. But I have a brother who has a big dairy farm upstate, and I thought three months in the fresh country air playing with the farm dogs would be good for Parker. Parker’s what I called him.”