Waggit Again
Page 17
The woman was singing loudly, and so couldn’t hear what was happening just a few feet in front of her. Waggit indicated to Magica that she should move back. He then corralled the puppies into a little hollow in the ground near the edge of the bushes closest to the woman. He kept them there with his paws while she sang, and when she paused for a moment, he made a crying sound like the noise the baby dogs made, only much louder. The woman turned her head in the direction of the sound. Waggit held his breath. He wanted her to hear him, but he certainly didn’t want her to find him.
“Hello,” said the woman. “Who’s there?”
Waggit made the sound again and then moved back to the far side of the bushes, the back part of his body in open ground. He saw the woman part the lower branches of the shrubs.
“Oh my,” she said, sounding remarkably like Magica, “where did you two come from? Oh, you poor things.”
Waggit held his breath and didn’t move a whisker, willing the woman to pick up the two tiny creatures. He did not have to wait long for his prayer to be answered. She leaned forward and gently lifted first one and then the other away from the bushes and held them up to look at them. Both puppies cried at this strange creature holding them, which made her cuddle them more.
“Oh no,” said the woman. “What am I doing? Are you going to break my heart as well?”
She looked down at them.
“Oh well,” she said with a sigh. “I’d better take you to the vet and find out what on earth I can feed you.”
Waggit, who understood none of the words, had a perfect comprehension of her body language, and he knew that the dogs would be in good hands.
“Did she take them?” asked Magica, who had been too far away to see.
“She did,” said Waggit. “All is well.”
The two of them walked back to the pipe, light in both heart and step.
Later that night as Waggit lay outside under the stars before taking his place next to the other dogs, he thought about all the things that had happened to him since escaping from the farm. He thought about Felicia and Lug, and how glad he was that Lowdown was still around, and Tazar and Olang, and the terrible fight with Tashi, and the puppies and the woman. He was still a young dog, almost a puppy himself, but he felt old beyond his years. So much had happened in such a short period of time. He had learned about survival and friendship, and loyalty and bravery through overcoming fear. He had also come to understand that the world was not always the friendly place he would like it to be. There were bad dogs like Olang and Tashi, and bad humans like the men at the bar, and these you had to stand up to, even though it was scary and dangerous.
Lug’s death still weighed heavily on him, but in some strange way that he didn’t fully understand, saving the lives of the two puppies made up for the guilt he felt over the way he had treated the pit bull. It somehow restored the balance, two lives saved for one lost. It also made him feel better about misjudging the woman, and he knew that the two little ones would be safe with her. What he had learned was that both humans and dogs are often different from the way they first seem, and to judge too quickly was often to be wrong. It was a lesson he would try to live by.
He got up, stretched, yawned, and hopped lightly into the entry to the pipe. The other Tazarians were already there, and he trod as carefully as he could to get past the sleeping bodies, but, as always, it was very dark inside. Of course, the one dog he would tread on with all his weight was Gruff, who growled in a low, deep voice:
“It’s okay, Waggit, don’t mind me. I’ve got three other legs, so I probably won’t miss the use of this one.”
Waggit apologized quietly and finally made it to his place next to Cal and Raz. He lay down, comforted by the sound of their breathing and the warmth of their bodies.
“Good night, Cal. Good night, Raz.”
“Sleep well, Waggit,” said Raz. “See you in the rising.”
GLOSSARY
Bad water: Gasoline
Bigwater: The reservoir
The Cold White: Snow
Curlytails: Squirrels
Deepwater: The lake
Deepwoods End: The north end of the park
Eyes and ears: Sentry duty
Feeder: Restaurant
Flutters: Birds
Goldenside: The West side of the park
The Great Unknown: The dog pound
Half-Roller: Bicycle
Hoppers: Rabbits
Loners: Dogs with no team
The Long Cold: Winter
Longlegs: Horses
Luggers: Carriages pulled by horses
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
Uprights: Human beings
About the Author
PETER HOWE is the author of WAGGIT’S TALE, which was his first book for children. He was born in London, lived in New York for more than thirty years, and currently resides in Connecticut with his wife and two dogs. He is a former New York Times Magazine and Life magazine picture editor, and he is the author of two books on photography: SHOOTING UNDER FIRE and PAPARAZZI.
You can visit Peter and the pack at www.waggitstale.com.
Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins author.
ALSO BY PETER HOWE
Waggit’s Tale
Credits
Jacket art © 2009 by Tristan Elwell
Jacket design by Amy Ryan
Copyright
WAGGIT AGAIN. Text copyright © 2009 by Peter Howe. Interior illustrations copyright © 2009 by Omar Rayyan. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
Adobe Digital Edition April 2009 ISBN 978-0-06-191086-9
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