Waggit Forever

by Peter Howe

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.
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  “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.

  8

  The First Haven

  Waggit was the first to notice his absence.

  “Lowdown’s not here. Has anyone seen him?”

  The dogs hadn’t seen much of anything during the storm; they had been preoccupied with staying together in the blinding rain. Now they looked around, startled to realize that the old dog wasn’t with them.

  “Oh no,” said Magica. “This is terrible. Where can he be?”

  “You talking about the old guy with the short legs?” asked Cicero. “I passed him way back there. He wasn’t keeping up at all.”

  “Why didn’t you stop to help him?” demanded Waggit, angry that his friend had been left to fend for himself.

  “Because that would have put everyone in danger,” Cicero replied. “This way only one dog is in trouble.”

  “We gotta go,” Pilodus interrupted. “If we don’t leave now, we won’t get to the haven before light. Let’s get to safety and then we’ll send out searchers.”

  “No,” said Waggit. “I’m going back for him.”

  “We’ll wait for you,” Gordo assured him. “Either we all go together or none of us do.”

  As much as he hated to admit it, Waggit knew that Cicero was right—you couldn’t put the whole team in danger for the sake of one dog, no matter how loved that dog was.

  “No,” he said. “You guys go on. There’s nothing you could do but hang around here waiting. You might as well do that in a safe place, and this street corner isn’t it. I’ll go back and find Lowdown and get him to the haven.”

  “But you don’t know where it is,” said Magica.

  “Okay, this is what we do,” said Pilodus, who was clearly getting worried about the time. “Waggit, take a good look at this corner and really try to remember it, ’cause many of them look alike ’round here. What you do when you get back here with the other dog is head down this crossway in the direction away from the park. Keep going for a few blocks, and we’ll have eyes and ears looking out for you. The haven’s straight down this street.”

  Waggit looked around. On one corner was a bank, and on another was a shoe store. The third corner had a twenty-four-hour delicatessen, and under its awning an employee was tilted back on a chair, fast asleep. The most conspicuous building was a movie theater, with a brightly lit marquee and sparkling lights, about a third of the way up the block on the side where they were standing. Waggit had no idea what a movie theater was, but he knew that he would remember its glitter.

  Reassuring the Tazarians that he would catch up with them soon, he went back the way they had come. He hung close to the few parked vehicles, knowing that his wily friend would use them for cover if he was resting his aching limbs. Already there were more people on the streets, even though the dawn had not yet broken, and Waggit worried about the journey they would have to take to get back to the others.

  He had gone only three blocks when he suddenly stopped, shocked by what he saw. There was Lowdown, lying in the middle of the sidewalk, making no attempt to hide. As Waggit watched, a pedestrian passed right by, staring at the forlorn-looking old dog with his scruffy coat. Waggit quickly ran up to him.

  “Lowdown, are you crazy?” he yelped. “You’ve got to get away from here.”

  His friend looked up at him with a mournful look in his brown eyes.

  “I can’t, Waggit,” he said. “It hurts too much. I must’ve been crazy to think I could make a journey like this. This is only the beginning, and I’m already finished. You go back to the others; they need you. I’m just going to lie here until the Ruzelas get me, and then whatever happens, happens.”

  “No,” said Waggit. “I won’t let you. I need you too much. You’re coming back with me.”

  And without saying another word he picked up Lowdown in his mouth, grabbing him by the loose skin at the back of the neck, and ran across the road to the divider, carrying the struggling old dog like a mother would hold a puppy.

  “Hey, hey, what’re you doing?” Lowdown protested. “Put me down! Ouch, ow, that hurts! You’re worse than the Ruzelas, and I ain’t kidding.”

  By this time they were on a patch of grass in the divider. Although it wasn’t as soft as the soil in the park, it was still more forgiving than the sidewalk. Waggit lowered Lowdown onto it.

  “Ugh,” Waggit said, spitting bits of Lowdown’s coat out of his mouth, “your fur tastes awful.”

  “Well,” replied Lowdown, “it ain’t there for you to eat! So now what’re we gonna do?”

  “We’re going to take it very slowly up the center here until we get to where we turn off, and then we’re going to join the others in the haven. They told me it’s not far from here.”

  “And if I don’t wanna go?” asked Lowdown.

  “Then my teeth go around the back of your neck,” Waggit replied.

  “You know, I’m sure glad you’re my friend,” said Lowdown. “I can’t imagine what you’d be like if you was my enemy!”

  Despite Lowdown’s protests, Waggit’s rescue mission seemed to have renewed the old dog’s energy and spirit. They headed north along the divider, with Waggit in the lead. Every so often he would look over his shoulder, and it upset him to see his friend limping along slowly and painfully. Although they were making progress, so was the dawn. As the sky lightened, the traffic increased. Every time the dogs came to an intersection, they faced an even harder problem. Lowdown was too weak to jump down from the divider, cross the street, and then hop back up, so after each block Waggit had to pick him up in his mouth and transport him the short distance to the next section.

  In this manner they gradually made their way uptown. Although Lowdown’s body hadn’t improved, his spirits had. Waggit glanced over his shoulder again and was glad to see how much happier he seemed. But then something else caught his eye. It was the front of the movie theater, not sparkling as much now in the daylight, but the same one for sure, and now more than a block behind them.

  “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” Waggit said.

  “You or me?” asked Lowdown.

  “Me,” Waggit replied. “I was concentrating on where you were and I lost track of where I was. We’ve gone past the place where we have to turn.”

  “Oh well,” said Lowdown, cheerfully, “I hear that walking’s good for you—keeps you young, or so they say.”

  As they turned to go back, Waggit suddenly saw the familiar sight of a blue and white police car coming toward them as it drove downtown.

  “Ruzelas,” he warned. “Down.”

  This warning applied more to Waggit than it did to Lowdown, who was pretty much “down” all the time. The difference between him standing and lying flat out was no more than an inch or two. The two dogs lay partially hidden by some bedraggled daisies. The car drew close and stopped at the traffic light. They held their breath. Luckily the officer in the passenger seat was on his cell phone, and the driver was looking up at the light, waiting for it to change. Finally it did and they left.

  “Phew,” said Waggit. “That was close. Let’s get to the crossover as quickly as we can.”

  As quickly as they could was still pretty slow, but they finally made it, and started going in what they hoped was the direction of the haven. Suddenly Lowdown let out a yelp of pain. Waggit turned to see him standing on three legs, holding one off the ground, with a grimace of pain across his face.

  “Waggit,” he said, “I can’t go on. I gotta rest.”

  “Okay, old pal,” said Waggit rea
ssuringly. “We’ll stop here for a while under this car—let you catch your breath and rest your leg.”

  Waggit noticed that all the cars were parked on the opposite side of the street. Why this was he had no idea, but there was a solitary vehicle on their side that they crawled underneath; and they settled down for a rest. Even Waggit was feeling tired, especially after having stayed up all night coupled with the stress of the journey. They were just contemplating a nap when the roar of a diesel engine rattled the air. A truck pulled up in front of their hiding place. They heard its door open and shut and then saw the feet of its driver approach them. He paused, and suddenly his face appeared by the front wheels. Fortunately the two dogs were resting up against the rear tires, and he seemed too preoccupied to notice them. He looked around at the front end of the vehicle and then went back to the truck. The dogs had no alternative but to stay where they were and see what happened. There was a roar from the truck’s engine, a clanging of metal, and the sound of chains being dragged across the pavement. Then to their surprise the front of their hiding place rose up, and the whole vehicle lurched forward, leaving them unprotected and under the full gaze of a traffic cop.

  “Hey! What the…?” she yelled at them. “Get away from here.”

  Although they didn’t understand a word she was saying, they did as they were told. Lowdown hobbled along on three legs, with Waggit behind him, making sure they weren’t being chased. Far ahead of them their former shelter was being towed to a pound, but not one for dogs.

  When they had put enough distance between them and the traffic cop, Lowdown stopped, panting so violently that his whole body shook.

  “I’m beginning to wonder,” he gasped, “whether I would’ve been better off waiting for the Ruzelas to get me. The Great Unknown can’t be worse than this.”

  “It is,” said Waggit, who had been there. “Trust me on this one.”

  When they had both regained their breath, they continued at a more leisurely pace. The neighborhood they were passing through was less well kept than the blocks near the park, and there were more people on the streets. These people didn’t seem bothered by two stray dogs wandering by, and sometimes greeted them with “Hey, doggie, doggie,” and “Here, boy,” which Lowdown and Waggit deliberately ignored.