I guess.
That doesn’t mean I have to like shots.
“George! Are you deaf or what? Get your butt over here, Aunt Heather says I need you,” my partner in crime sweetly bellows.
I look around first for missing carrot bits.
Nope.
My name is rudely spoken again by the Girlpup. Hold your horses—speed isn’t everything. Nevertheless, I shift gears and trot to the gazebo.
Hey, it’s not a walk.
My claws tap as I climb the wooden steps and go into the shelter. I spy a bowl of water and gulp some down. When I lift my head, I notice tiny bits of floating carrots. I try to get them, but inhale water instead. Karly is sitting near so I wipe my face on her convenient jeans and snort water out of my nose.
“George!”
What? I don’t see a towel anywhere. What am I supposed to do? I look at her with my cutest expression. She glares and pushes me away.
“So why do I need...” Karly jabs her finger in my direction, “It?”
It?
It? I dip my head and look between my legs at my private bits. All there. Whew. Never call a dog an “it”; it's cruel. I snort in her general direction and move to where Auntie Heather is sitting at the heavy, black metal table. I slump into a sit and slowly ooze into a down. Her foot makes a great pillow.
“Teamwork. You will learn to pool George's and your energy together to perform the more difficult healing for both animals and the land. If you have the gift, you might even be able to see the future or the past with your familiar's help. If it turns out you're a seer, I'll get Phoebe to help with those lessons.”
My Girlpup's eyes get very round and she dips her head down to me, and then up to Auntie Heather. “Do you think I might have that gift?” she squeals. Make my head ring, why don't you, Karly?
“I don't know what you might manifest. Right now your future is a vast plain waiting to be planted. Far-seeing is a hard gift, though. You can't take back what you've seen, no matter how horrible it is or was. The path might be re-shaped, but the scene will still remain as a memory. From what I hear, it's not like something you see on television, even if it doesn't come to pass, it still feels like you were there, a part of it. Truly, a gift with a sharp double-edged blade.”
It doesn't seem like it would be a bad thing to see the future.
Food in the future.
Food in the past.
Unless...No! I wouldn't like to see an empty supper dish. I hope Karly and I never get that, um, puppy present. I am embarrassed to find myself shaking and roll over, exposing my tummy. Karly surprises me by kneeling down and rubbing it. I think she isn't any happier than I am with the idea. I settle and snuggle against her bent leg. She sits cross-legged and I drape myself over her lap. She smelltastes wonderful—grape Koolaid, and sweetsweat, not quite tangy like adults, warm. She’s mine, part of my Pack. She lets me stay and I deflate with a sigh.
She changes the subject. “What are we going to do?”
“I thought a little healing magic to start with. Rupert, here, fell out of the big hickory and hurt his leg this morning. He isn't very happy in the splint. Perhaps you can help get him out of it.” While I was half-snoozing on Karly, Auntie Heather must've gotten up. There's a box on her lap and I smell fleas and dead trees...Squirrelsquirrelsquirrel! Why is there a squirrel on Auntie's lap? It’s dangerous. It will eat her! I jump up and lunge for Auntie's lap.
“Down, George, he's only a baby. Beneath you. He'll be good to practice your hands-on healing,” Auntie Heather says while using one hand to support the box and the other to push me away. I put my butt down and glare at her. I am going to heal a future killer?
So wrong.
I turn my head away and think about leaving.
My Girlpup squeals in my ear. I hold back the bay of frustration. Karly is too excited about the rat with a fuzzy tail and won’t listen to reason. Instead, she reaches for the evil ball of fur and carefully removes it from the box. I decide to go home and am turning-tail when Auntie Heather stops me.
“George, you are a brilliant familiar, and have so much to share with Karly, don’t you? But first you have to teach Karly how to heal and Rupert here literally fell into my lap. Can’t you accept the challenge of healing him in order to teach your student?”
My head hangs between my front legs, embarrassed. Karly needs my help and wisdom, not my prejudice, even if it is well-founded. I look at the fluffy-tailed rat, and it blinks its beady little eyes at me, happy in my Girlpup’s hand. It’s taunting me! I growl. Auntie Heather gives me a sharp glance and I look away from the demon-spawn.
Auntie Heather continues, “I know that George and you don’t always see eye-to-eye, but dogs make great familiars for witches. Dogs are natural healers. Just petting dogs makes high blood pressure drop. Roquefort has many wonderful qualities, however he has some drawbacks. For example, most hospital staff don’t want a ‘wild animal’ in the patient’s room. Besides, he’s shy around crowds.”
It’s good that Auntie Heather points out my special super-powers. Peeps help us hunt and herd. We get the food—they prepare it and serve us. It’s part of our job to keep Peeps calm and safe, slowing their heartbeats to match our breathing patterns as they pet and cuddle us. That’s easy stuff. Any dog can do that. I am more than a dog, though. I’ll show my Girlpup. We’ll make that squirrel so healthy I’ll be able to chase it in no time.
I rub my muzzle against Auntie Heather’s leg and creep over to Karly and the furry-tailed rat. It blinks at me and I feel its pain in my own leg. My mom shared the great truths with me, except I must not have paid attention during this part. I sure don’t remember it was going to hurt. I whimper and lick my front leg. There is a dirty brownish glow around the owie and I concentrate on it. My colors are shiny yellow and sunny-day blue.
Slipping into Karly’s mind, I show her what I am seeing. She looks at my leg, confused. The furry-tailed enemy squirms and she drops her gaze to it. Its leg is surrounded with a darker version of the glow and there is a frayed, twisted cord leading from the squirrel to me. I want to bite it, but that would just leave me and squirrel both hurting. I woof. Does she see what she needs to do, or should I show her?
Since Karly looks like she’s doing a math problem, I decide to show her. My tongue lolls out of my mouth, coated in buff and deep blue. I lick the ouchie spot and the cord. More of the brown travels to my own leg and the evil squirrel stops twisting in her hands. The pain is now split between us—it will be easier for my Girlpup to do her thing.
All right.
Come on.
If I had fingers I’d tap them.
Hello! Isn’t she supposed to have some instinct for this?
Karly takes a better hold of the squirrel’s body with one hand and carefully touches the broken leg. The evil beast accepts it. I am taking a lot of the pain for the devil. Karly and I are still linked in our minds and I see distracting human color. She still isn’t getting it. I think hard at her, showing her, in her own colors, glowing reds, whites, and pinks flowing from the Girlpup’s hand to the squirrel. She nods at me and lets the colors spread over the ugly, dirty brown and flow around the cord between the squirrel and me. My skin feels hot and my own blue flows back to meet with her hand, cooling the harsh heat to a soft warmth. Now, I bite the strand holding me to the thing. It snaps back to the squirrel with a satisfying thwack. I feel Auntie Heather’s look poking me. She knows I could have been nicer. Tough, she chose our patient. It won’t even appreciate what we did.
Probably just throw twigs and acorns at us.
Evil things.
The bushy-tailed rat struggles against Karly’s hand, scratches her, and high-tails it to the nearest tree.
Ungrateful monster.
I growl and bark, “You are dead if I ever see you again.” Auntie Heather pokes me with another glare. I am not repentant; it scratched my Girlpup. I want it dead. Auntie Heather should be glad I am not turning the thing into worm food.
/> “Colors are energy. With George able to absorb some of the pain, it allows you to use other colors for their healing energy. That’s why it’s so important that you and George become a partnership. George sees energy differently than you do and you complement that.” Auntie Heather riffles the fur behind my ears. I am good. I am good enough for a cookie. I lock eyes with hers and she laughs, gets up, and returns with cookies. “Karly, go in the kitchen and wash up. See if you can heal that scratch on your own. I think you’ll find it much harder than working with others.”
I think about following my quiet Girlpup to the house. The scent of cinnamon and beef make me drool. If Karly can’t fix herself, I’ll help. She needs the lesson; I need the cookie.
She better clean herself good. I can smell furry-tailed rat cooties on her. Yuck. I make a light woofing sound. Those cookies weren’t any closer to my tummy than when they were in the kitchen. Auntie Heather tosses me a couple. I crunch them, happy to get the smelltaste of evil squirrel out of my mouth. I give her eyes guaranteed to get me another.
“Sorry George. You need to lose a pound or two. How will Karly learn if you can’t keep up with her in the park?”
I blow out my lips at her. My body is as fit and fine as it can be.
“Let’s go in the house, Karly must realize that she needs help by now.” Aunt Heather retreats into the house and I follow before the door slams shut. Peeps forget about tails all the time.
Tailless monkeys.
“That was so cool, Aunt Heather. I’ve never seen anything like that from George’s point of view,” Karly says, standing by the sink. I’m glad the cat let her tongue go. She actually sounds impressed. “Why didn’t we need water energy for big healing, though?” She looks down at her arm. “Maybe I need more water than what’s coming from the faucet.”
“Healing bones is normally tricky. Rupert is small and didn’t need much color energy to repair his leg. Now, finish up, that scratch isn’t getting any better. When you’re done, would you like to work on trying to get more information about the bones?
“Well, yeah. But we don’t have any of them. How can we do anything?”
Auntie Heather makes a shooing motion to both of us with her arms. “First, go to the bathroom and finish cleaning and healing.”
We go obediently to the Peeps’ bathroom. Karly is trying hard to bind the scratch—she never told me I had to leave her mind. I chuff out a little laugh. The scratch isn’t very long or deep, but the Girlpup is having some trouble with it. It’s good that she learns teamwork.
With a little push of color from me, the edges seal together. Yup, some things can’t be learned in just one lesson. Then I remember—since I am still prowling around in her head—the smell of The Bad Thing in the woods. The mixed-up smelltastes of skunk, cat-stink, gas, sulfur, and snakes fill our noses and cover our tongues. Maybe this time she’ll get it.
“George, what are you doing? Why are you still in my mind and what’s so stinky? Joey’s socks smell better than that.”
I try to show her what it means, but there’s nothing to show. I don’t know what The Bad Thing is. I know it’s not a bushy-tailed rat. I shake in frustration. How can I tell her how important this is? Maybe Auntie Heather can help me.
Karly looks at her scratch and smiles. “You can keep your smelly thoughts to yourself, but thanks for helping me fix my scratch.” She runs a finger over her smooth skin. “Wish I knew we could do that before. It would have saved a lot of bandages.”
I couldn’t tell her we couldn’t have before. Karly smells different now and part of the scent is power. Is becoming a teenager making her powerful? I think about teenage dogs and sneeze. I have the scary vision of Karly humping everything in sight. I quickly leave Karly’s mind, and hope she didn’t see what I did.
My Girlpup doesn’t say a word. Maybe she didn’t get it. I whuff out a sigh of relief. I think she is right—I shouldn’t wander in her mind.
Karly dries her hands on a towel. Silly, since she has perfectly good clothes for that. I take a moment to feel bad she was born without fur for protection. “’Kay, blockheaded freak, let’s go see what Auntie Heather has next for us. Do you think we’ll really figure out who the bones belonged to?”
I sneeze again. It wasn’t who the bones belonged to when they were alive—it was who the bones belong to now that worries me. What was the Big Bad Thing that I can’t recognize? My nose is the best, yet it let me down when I needed it the most. The most important thing is to protect Karly and Auntie Heather. I need more information. Playing with rocks and dead bones isn’t going to do it for me. Karly finishes up and heads back to the gazebo, I follow behind, still trying to clear my traitorous nose.
Chapter Seven
We are in the park again. It’s dryer than yesterday and a little cooler. Cooler is good for tracking, dry isn’t.
Doesn’t matter. I am a super sleuth with my nose. Karly is grumpy—she doesn’t understand why we can’t use more magic. Auntie Heather says magic is for special things. We shouldn’t waste magic if we can use other methods. We’re hunting The Bad Thing and my nose is magic enough. Peeps have bad tracking equipment. It’s a good thing we’re partners, they can’t survive without us.
Auntie Heather snaps the leather leash on my collar so she won’t get lost following me in the woods. I move too fast for Peeps, so Auntie slows me down so Karly can follow. I put my nose in the air and take a soft sniff. If The Bad Thing is around I don’t want it to clog my nostrils with its stink. It’s bad enough I still smell the evil squirrel.
The air is clear, so I set to work, nose to ground, ears shoveling scent, searching for the smelltaste of The Bad Thing. It doesn’t take long.
I pull to it. It’s the same spot I found earlier, surrounded by a ribbon of plastic. It smells like chemicals and will ruin my nose if I can’t get away.
“That won’t work. We can’t cross the yellow tape, can we Auntie Heather?” Karly asks with dismay. Even I see the bright yellow of the tape. Is this how Peeps make pee-mail since they can’t smell marking? It’s yellow. It’s about the right height for them. I can just go under.
Auntie Heather bends down and pats my head. “I bet there are more places that have that scent, aren’t there? It’s not here so there must be fresher scents somewhere. Can you find it?
Of course there are. I air-scent again, searching for The Bad Thing’s gassulfurdrysnakecatstink tastesmell. I inhale and catch the oilytasting foulness. I wish I could spit.
One of my few design flaws.
I lean into the collar and pull into it, Auntie Heather a weight behind me. I tolerate her, but don’t like it. I bay in frustration.
Hurry up.
I have it! I can find The Bad Thing now. Gah, I pull the leash out of Auntie Heather’s hands. She and Karly have ears—they can hear my bay and follow that.
Free!
I run along the track, snorfling and breathing through my mouth, tasting the oil get stronger, the stink get stronger. My leash catches a branch and my collar chokes me. Karly calls me a blockhead and I am glad for once it’s sort of true. My neck and head are about the same width.
I slip my collar to free myself and continue to follow my nose. There are scratchy sharp things under my feet and the ground is springy.
Really springy.
The trail twists and turns and I go up and up and…
“George! What are you doing up in that spruce tree? How did you get up in the tree?” My crazy Girlpup shouts at me.
As if.
Basset hounds are built for the ground, not the sky. The wind has picked up, blowing the scent all over the place. Karly and Auntie Heather are both yelling now. Since it’s so important I break my scent-connection and look for them.
There they are.
Below me.
Well, I think that’s them, they look like ants. Wha—what am I doing in this tree? I panic and jump. I don’t know what I am thinking, I am not a bird—my ears aren’t meant for flying. Yikes!
I make oofing sounds as branches brush by me, slowing me down. Finally, I land on the bottom branches and they spring slightly—just like jumping on a bed, not that I jump on beds. I’m a good boy.
I am good at planning, this one worked perfectly. I shake the needles off and trot over to my Pack.
“George, are you okay?” My Girlpup tries to scoop me up. My hind end dangles. I appreciate her attention, but my back doesn’t feel great. Bouncing out of a tree will do that to a dog.
Auntie Heather rescues me from my partner’s hug. “I think it might be better to practice your healing. His spine may be out of alignment.” She turns to me. “George, what made you think you could climb the tree? Did your nose get ahead of your brain?”
It’s obvious I can climb trees. As for my nose, it’s always in front of my brain, right?
“Whine.”
My back is not happy. If I am going to get The Bad Thing my body must in fighting shape. I lost to a tree, but it was a good lesson. I can only win against The Bad Thing if I use both my head and my nose.
My nose tells me there is something for me to find near my feet. I paw away the brown sharp things on the ground. The gassulfurdrysnakecatstink tastesmell is strong, pooled under a carpet of pokey things. A round shape with smaller round holes appears; The Bad Thing left a footprint. My fall must have covered it with, um, wait, I remember—needles. I lick my paw. There are sap and sharp bits stuck in the pad. I bark, hold up my paw, and nose the print. I must look like a pointer. Ick, that’s not a good look for me. My foot hurts when I put it down, so I plop my butt down. My back isn’t happy with the curve I put into it by sitting.
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