WHISKERS
Chapter 1
Abandoned
Amy peered through the window at Joey and Whiskers, who were playing together in the back yard. Her eyes blurred with tears and a lump formed in her throat as she watched the boy and dog romping. She turned and faced her husband, who was sitting at the kitchen table having coffee.
"Larry, I honestly wish I could find a way to make you change your mind." Her voice choked. "We've had Whiskers since he was a small puppy. Don't you feel even a little attached to him?"
"Forget it, Hon. Sure, I like the dog, but we have to be practical. Sorry, but my mind's made up. Can't you remember the problems we had the last time I got transferred? Always looking for motels that would accept dogs. Making all those stops at rest areas and then waiting for the dog to do his business. And finding a place to rent was a hassle because of him. I could go on."
"What about Joey? He'll be broken hearted when he learns that we're not taking Whiskers along. And to be honest, I will, too. I think of him almost as a family member."
Larry chuckled. "Joey'll get over it in a few days, and so will you. Just be glad I'm not having the dog put to sleep. Look, Hon, I promise that I'll find a nice neighborhood to leave him." He sipped on his coffee. "Look, a small, part Pekingese like Whiskers will be picked up by someone for sure. He'll have a new home in no time."
Amy knew that it would be useless to push it any further. She had already begged and pleaded and they'd had a big argument about it. But Larry would not give in.
She turned her attention back to the kitchen window. She doubted that she--or Joey--would get over it in a few days, as Larry had predicted.
She remembered Twinkle, a little black and orange kitten from her childhood that had strayed away and never returned. She'd had the kitten but a few weeks, but had grown to love it dearly in that time.
Her mother promised her another kitten and assured her that she would get over the loss of Twinkle in a few days. But she grieved for a long, long time, imagining all sorts of things that might have happened to her beloved little pet.
Whiskers had been with them nearly two years now. Joey's uncle, Amy's brother, had given the part Pekingese and part terrier puppy to Joey as a birthday gift. Joey and Whiskers bonded almost immediately.
Larry had only grudgingly allowed Joey to accept the puppy. He was not a cruel man, but had grown up in a family without pets of any kind. He simply had no experience to identify with a boy's love for a dog.
The boy and the dog were now playing tug o' war with an old towel. Now that school was out, except for his older sister the eight-year-old Joey had but few friends to play with. The neighborhood was made up mostly of retirees and childless couples.
Joey was tugging on the towel when he slipped, falling flat on his back. AS Joey was lying there, Whiskers ran to him and began licking his face. Amy's instinct was to run to the aid of her son, but he began to giggle as he grabbed the little dog and the two rolled in the grass.
Yes, Amy thought, Joey was young and flexible and he would eventually get over it. Time would erase his heartache and dim the memory of his little pal. But it would take longer than a few days. Much longer.
***
Whiskers was happy when he hopped in the car, for he loved to ride. He usually had Joey in the back seat with him as a traveling companion, but this time he was alone. He was enjoying himself all the same. He loved to stick his nose out the half-opened window and let the wind blow in his face.After a time the car stopped and the back door opened up.
"C'mon boy, out you go." Whiskers hesitated for just a second, for this seemed an unlikely place to get out. But he was an obedient dog, and he did as he was told.
The little dog stood beside the road, bewildered as he watched the car pull away. The family head, the one Joey called "Dad," had left him before, but never in a place like this. He had always been left in the place where they prodded, poked, and stuck sharp things in him. Sensing that these things were for his own good, he had always submitted without protest. But his family always came back for him.
The sights and smells were all new to him. There were houses, but none were familiar. Uncertain of what to do now, he walked around inspecting his new surroundings.
Whiskers was certain that the family must have had a good reason for leaving him here. People were always doing things that he did not understand, but he had learned to accept and to live with their ways, mysterious though they were.
It was simply beyond his comprehension that they would not come back for him. He was part of the family, and as such he would protect them and look out for them as best he could--even to laying down his life. He knew, too, that the family would take care of him. And he loved them all, even the man who seldom showed him any affection.
And so, Whiskers waited.
He waited the rest of the day, watching hopefully as each car passed. And he was always disappointed. He waited through the night, enduring a crashing thunderstorm. But he never strayed far from the spot, for he wanted to be there when they came back for him.
When morning came, he felt a need to relieve himself. He moved a short distance away from the road, near a house, and made his toilet. He had no sooner finished than a man came running from the house, yelling at him. Terrified, Whiskers ran. He stopped and looked back just in time to see the man throw something at him. He dodged the object and kept going.
He knew that it was time to move on. Something was wrong, for his family wasn't coming back for him this time. He decided that it was time to find his way back home. Something in his brain, he didn't know what, pointed him toward the general direction of home. He set out.
There were many obstacles that caused him to stray from his course. There were buildings, fences, and houses that he had to skirt. There were bridges he had to cross.
There were streets that he had to cross, and once he narrowly escaped death as a car, tires screeching, nearly hit him. From that experience he learned to watch for the big machines.
He slept wherever he could find a secluded spot, and when he became hungry, he ate whatever discarded scraps he could find. Once he ate part of a road kill, later becoming ill and throwing it up.
But Whiskers would not be deterred from his mission. He was determined to return to his family.
Chapter 2
Home again
Three days later, the sun was setting when a weary, hungry Whiskers found his home. He made his way up the steps and scratched on the door. No one answered, and he went around to the fenced back yard. He peered through the fence, hoping to see Joey there. But he saw an empty, deathly quiet yard. He lay down in front of the gate and waited. Darkness came and he fell asleep.
When morning came, Whiskers decided that he could wait no longer. He was hungry, and left the house in search of food. Later in the morning, he came across a place with strong smells of food. The enticing smells drew him closer. There were many people at the place.
A man came out of the place carrying a bag. Whiskers approached the man cautiously, tail wagging. The man looked at him, hesitated for a moment, and then reached in the bag. He threw a hunk of meat and bread on the ground in front of Whiskers. Whiskers wagged his tail furiously as he gulped down the food. When he looked up, the man was gone.
Sated, he returned to the empty house. Later in the day, he endured another thunderstorm. The rain left puddles, and the thirsty Whiskers drank his fill.
Finally, Whiskers gave up. He sensed that his family was gone, never to return. Forlornly, he left the house in search of more food. He returned to the place of good smells. This time, however, his begging was ignored.
As he wandered around the place, he watched as two dogs approached. They were both larger than Whiskers, but he cautiously approached the pair. After some sniffing, wetting shrubbery, and tail-wagging, the pair accepted him. He followed them as they went around to the rear of the place, where there were containers filled with many items, some of them edible.
***
He stayed with them, and the pair became a trio. The pair seemed to know all the places to find food and water, although on occasion angry people chased them away. Weeks passed, and Whiskers began to regard the dogs as family, although he'd never found the love and companionship that he'd enjoyed with Joey.
Whiskers was dirty, and he grew sickly and emaciated. But he survived--until the day the man in the truck came.
When the man jumped from the truck, Whiskers' street-wise companions fled. But Whiskers hesitated, and by the time he realized he was in danger it was too late. He felt a loop around his neck. The man threw the shocked and bewildered Whiskers in the back of the truck.
The man took him to a place where there were many other dogs. He knew that this was a bad place. The atmosphere here filled him with despair.
He was placed in a cage. They fed and watered him, but otherwise he was ignored. As the days passed, he watched as new dogs were brought in and other dogs were taken out. He had a sense of foreboding; he sensed that he was destined to die here in this place of evil. There was no hope. No escape. He lay in the cage day after day and waited.
Chapter 3
Adopted
Stan Woodson, recently retired postal clerk, finished his yard work. He put his tools away and went in the house to wash up for dinner. The smells wafting out from the kitchen whetted his appetite.
"Dinner's on the table." Louise called.
He joined Louise at the table, and the two began eating quietly. Louise was the first to speak. "The house sure seems quiet now that Queenie's gone."
"Yeah," Stan agreed. "It's been over a month, and I still miss her something awful."
"Stan, I know that we agreed that we wouldn't get another dog, but I've been thinking..." Her voice choked.
"Sweetheart," he said, "so have I."
***
Whiskers watched as the man approached with the couple. They were stopping to look at dogs in other cages. When they reached his cage, the woman seemed to perk up. She said something to the man as they stopped in front of Whiskers' cage. Whiskers became excited when the woman crouched, looked directly into his cage, and spoke soothingly to him. He whined pleadingly and wagged his tail.
She looked at the tag on his collar. "Whiskers." She smiled. "OK, Whiskers, you're going home with us."
***
Time passed, and Whiskers knew that he had found a loving family. He knew that the couple loved him, and he grew to love them with all his heart. He was contented, and secure in the knowledge that he had a permanent home now.Sometimes the couple would watch him as he moved his legs in his sleep, and wonder what he might be dreaming about.
If Whiskers could talk, he would tell them that now and then he dreamed of romping with Joey.
Sometimes Stan liked to play, too. He laughed merrily when Whiskers would tug on the leg of his jeans, or they would play "takeaway" with a stick or an old sock. But Whiskers loved best of all the small size Frisbee, which Stan bought especially for him. It seemed to float as Stan sailed it through the air. Whiskers would chase after it as fast as his little legs would carry him, jumping high in the air to catch it.
Louise didn't play with him often, but he loved to lie beside her when she sat on the couch. She knew just how to caress him, and she knew that scratching him behind the ears would send him into a world of bliss.
He loved riding in the car. He loved resting under the shady trees in the back yard on sunny days. He loved chasing the little animals Stan called squirrels.
Stan and Louise lived in the country, so sometimes deer, rabbits, and other creatures from the forest would visit. The rabbits sometimes managed to get through the fence into the back yard. Stan would always praise him when he chased the pesky critters away from the vegetable garden.
This was now Whiskers' world; his life was centered around Stan and Louise. He still remembered his life before Stan and Louise, but it was now a dim memory.
Chapter 4
The copperhead
Whiskers always announced visitors. Even before the knock on the door, he was barking to alert his family of an intruder.
"Quite, boy," said Louise, "it's probably Gail and William."
Louise assured him there was no threat at the door. He stopped barking, and followed her to see who was there. She opened the door, revealing a young woman and a young man holding a small child in his arms.
"Hi, Mom"
"Gail!" Louise and the young woman ran into each other's arms.
At that moment Stan came to the door. He grasped the young man's hand, "Hello William, good to see you, and that must be little Jenny."
Whiskers watched as they all hugged each other, and then went inside laughing and talking.
"It's been thirty long months since we've laid eyes on you…We love Colorado but it's good to be back in Florida…It's wonderful to see our little granddaughter for the first time…she's the image of you at that age, Gail…You've painted the house a new color…I see you have a new dog now…"
As they talked and reminisced, Whiskers investigated little Jenny. He was fascinated with the child; he had never seen a human that small before.
He grew fond of the child. Although she sometimes pulled on his ears or tail he didn't mind, for she also hugged him and showed him affection. He began to see himself as little Jenny's protector.
Whiskers liked Gail, too. She would scratch his ears, pet him, and she liked to play his favorite game with the Frisbee.
But William didn't like him. He sensed that from the first time he saw the young man. William was cold toward him, and would speak gruffly to him whenever he spoke to him at all.
The first time Jenny came up to Whiskers to rub his fur, he wagged his tail and licked her hand. William hurriedly snatched the child away, causing her to cry.
"Stay away from the damned dog," he screamed at her. "He'll bite you."
Gail intervened. "You don't have to worry about Whiskers, he's a good dog."
"Well I don't like any dog. I had a nasty bite on my butt when I was about five, and I've hated them since."
In the meantime Stan had walked in. "I can understand your feelings, William, but dogs are like people. There are good ones and bad ones. I can promise you that Whiskers is one of the good ones."
***
The next day, a beautiful Spring day, Stan was showing William his fruit trees and vegetable garden in the back yard, while Louise and Gail sat on the front porch watching Jenny playing in the yard. Gail went into the house to go to the bathroom. A few minutes later the phone rang and Louise ran inside to answer.Whiskers was lying in the yard watching Jenny at play when a movement in the grass near her caught his eye. It was a snake, and it was crawling toward her.
Jenny spotted the reptile, and curiosity drew her toward it. As she toddled toward it, Whiskers moved between her and the snake and started barking.
Jenny giggled, and made to move around Whiskers, but she stumbled and fell. At that moment Gail came out the door.
"Whiskers, what are you doing? Bad dog. Leave Jenny alone."
Whiskers, distracted by her voice, stopped barking and took his eye off the snake. But Jenny kept crawling toward the reptile, and was now close enough that it became aware of her. It coiled, ready to strike.
Lightning-quick, Whiskers pounced on the snake from behind, clamping his powerful jaws just behind the head of the reptile. Bones crunched as he tightened his grip.
Gail now saw what was going on and ran into the yard screaming.
Holding the snake in his powerful jaws, and shaking the poisonous creature like a rag doll, he held on until it stopped moving.
He dropped the lifeless snake and ran around the house toward the back yard with the idea of notifying Stan.
The two men were running toward the front yard in response to Gail's scream when they met Whiskers.
"What the hell…the dog's got blood on it's snout," said William.
"If the damned dog has hurt Jenny I'll kill it." He picked up a golf ball sized pebble as he ran and hurled it at Whiskers. The little dog yelped and ran under the house.
Stan followed William around to the front yard to find Gail holding Jenny. William ran to her.
"Is she hurt…did the dog attack her?"
"No, thank God she's OK. There was a snake, and it would have bitten her but Whiskers killed it."
William just stood there, stunned. He was speechless.
Stan walked over to the mangled snake.
"It's rare that a snake comes out of the woods," said Stan. "This is only the second one we've seen in the twenty-odd years we've been here." He squatted down to examine the reptile.
"A copperhead," he said. "It's only about eighteen inches long and not normally deadly to an adult, but could still be deadly if it bit a small child." He looked at William. "Whiskers saved Jenny's life."
"Good Lord, Stan, can you ever forgive me? I…I don't know what I can do or say to make it right."
Stan placed his hand on William's shoulder. "It's alright, I think you've learned a lesson today. Right now, we'd better find Whiskers and see if the snake bit him. If it did I'll have to get him to the vet right away."
***
Hurt and confused, Whiskers ran under the house. What had he done? He knew the man didn't like him, but why was he angry? Was Stan angry, too? He heard Stan's voice, calling him. Stan didn't sound angry, but could he trust him now? He wanted to go to Stan, but was too dazed and confused to make up his mind.
"He's probably too scared to come out. I'd better crawl under there and get him."
"No, I'll go," said William. "It's a pretty tight fit under there and I'm younger than you are."
Whiskers was even more confused when he saw William coming under the house. As the man got closer, he backed away.
William spoke to him, now with a soothing voice. "It's OK, fella. I've learned my lesson and I'm not gonna hurt you." He edged a little closer and held out his hand.
The little dog eyed William. Here was the man who had shown contempt for him from the outset. As far as Whiskers was concerned, he had never disliked the man, but merely regarded him as a person to avoid.
Not all dogs can sense emotions in people, but Whiskers was one of those who could--and was very good at it. He now sensed a feeling of remorse in the man, and also sensed that the man's attempt to befriend him was genuine.
He did not back away as William edged closer. He did not even recoil at the man's hand stroking his head. He accepted William's friendship.
***
Stan examined Whiskers very carefully and found no evidence of a snakebite, and to William's relief, there was no evidence of injury from the thrown rock--not even a bruise. Apparently it had been but a glancing blow.At Stan's suggestion, he and William took Whiskers to show him the dead copperhead, and while showing the snake, praised the little dog lavishly.
Whiskers, a very bright dog, knew that the men were showing him that they were pleased with his killing of the snake which had threatened little Jenny.
Later, William insisted on buying Whisker's most favorite meal--a roast beef sandwich from a diner on the nearby highway.
For the remaining days of William's stay with his in-laws, he became fast friends with Whiskers. He even learned to use the Frisbee to play with the little dog.
"I never knew that dogs could be so much fun," he told Gail. "You've been wanting one, and by golly now we're gonna get one."
After the visitors left, things returned to normal. Whiskers loved the peace and quiet, but he did miss the excitement of having the guests around.
Chapter 5
The Gator
Whiskers was an exceptionally bright dog. Stan figured that he recognized well over a hundred words, plus he could recognize not only his own name, but also those of his family, Stan and Louise.
Stan reached down and patted his head. "Wanna go for a ride, Whiskers?"
One word in that sentence got Whiskers' attention. Ride. His ears perked up, his eyes brightened, and his tail was wagging wildly as he ran to the car. Stan opened the rear door of the car and the little dog leaped onto the back seat.
As the car moved along the rural road, Whiskers poked his head out the window of the passenger side; Stan never opened the other window. He did not like the idea of the dog sticking his head out on the traffic side. Whiskers was in doggie heaven. He loved to feel the wind in his face and to sniff the delicious smorgasbord of odors passing by.
Now they were passing through a woodland, and many scents came to his nostrils. He inhaled the odors of the various kinds of vegetation on the forest floor, and occasionally caught the smell of a forest dweller.
He knew the scents of most of the creatures, for they had visited Stan's proprty. Among them were rabbits, squirrels, raccoons, foxes, and possums.
But there was one creature whose scent he did not recognize. It lived in the swampy area. They were passing through the swamp now, and as they crossed a bridge he caught a scent of the creature.
He sniffed curiously at the odor of the strange creature. His instincts told him that this was a dangerous creature, one to avoid. He did not like its smell. Not at all.
They crossed a bridge, passed through the swamp, and now piney woods lined each side of the road. Suddenly, without warning, the world of Whiskers was turned upside down.
He caught the scent of an animal that he recognized, a deer. A moment later he saw the large antlered animal bound out of the woods, running straight into the path of the car.
He heard a loud screeching sound, and at the same time was thrown head-first out of the opened window. He landed, unhurt but dazed, in a water-filled ditch. He looked up to see the car, with Stan inside, veering into the path of another car. There was a loud crash as the two vehicles collided. The deer was safe, and running into the woods on the other side of the road.
Whiskers waded out of the muddy water and shook himself. Still dazed, he took in the scene. Stan's car was overturned and lying on its side, but the other car was still upright. He saw a man get out of the other car, but Stan did not emerge. He ran to Stan's car and crawled in through a hole in the broken windshield.
Stan was not moving, and blood was seeping from a wound on the side of his neck. Whiskers whined, pawed at his arm, and barked, trying to awaken him. When that failed, He began licking his face. He heard a voice.
"Hey, Buddy, you OK? I've called 911 and help is on the way."
Whiskers looked up. The man from the other car was speaking. In his dazed and confused state, He saw the man as an enemy. He showed his teeth, then growled and barked.
The man backed off. Whoa, fella, I'm just trying to help. I'm your friend. At that moment another car pulled up. It was making high pitched noises and showing flashing lights.
The occupant of the second car, who was wearing a big round hat, walked up. Whiskers started barking even louder.
"Looks like you got a problem with the dog."
"Yeah. He's been keeping me away since the accident. He ain't much bigger than a house cat, but he's ready to attack whoever gets too close. I tried coaxing, but it didn't work."
The deputy moved closer. "We gotta get him outta there. The medics will be here any second, and we gotta get him out before they arrive. He pulled a big stick from his side and began yelling and beating on the car with the stick.
Terrified, the still dazed and confused Whiskers stood his ground. The lawman crawled up on the car. He reached down through the opened window and made a grab for the dog. He got him by the collar on his neck and gently pulled him out.
"It's OK, boy. I'm not gonna hurt you."
He recognized "OK boy," and the man's voice was soothing, but he was still in a state of shock.
Holding the little dog tightly, the deputy jumped to the pavement. At that point another car with flashing lights pulled up. The man relaxed his grip on the collar and Whiskers squirmed out of his arms and jumped.
He hit the ground running, and immediately went for the woods.
"Hey! Come back here, boy. There's gators in there!" He whistled sharply. "C'mere. Boy! Oh Lord no…"
Whiskers stopped near the tree line and looked back toward the scene of the accident. He hesitantly took a few steps toward Stan's overturned car, thinking to help his master.
But as he watched, several of the men had taken Stan out of the wrecked car and were placing him into one of the other cars. The car sped away with his beloved master inside.
He heard footsteps and turned to see the deputy coming toward him. The lawman stopped and called to him.
"Here, boy. C'mon fella, I ain't gonna hurt you."
But the still bewildered Whiskers turned and fled into the woods, and kept running until he was sure that he had escaped his enemies.
***
He continued on into the woods, and as time passed he began to recover. He was no longer dazed and confused, but he realized that something terrible had happened, that his beloved master was hurt, and that some people had taken him away.Something in his dog mind told him to return home, that maybe Louise could help. He knew instinctively the general direction that he must follow. He set out.
Presently he came upon a creature whose scent he recognized--a raccoon. It growled and spit at him. It was more than twice his size, but he growled back just to show that he would not be intimidated. After a few moments, he decided it would be wise to avoid a showdown with this creature and continued on his way.
A while later He came upon a rabbit, which quickly hopped away at the sight of him. He ran after it enjoying the chase, but it soon disappeared and he gave up.
He went on until he came to the swampy area. Since the swamp was lying between him and home, he continued. He waded through muddy and sometimes watery areas until he came upon a narrow creek, the stream that gave rise to the swamp. It was much too wide to jump over, so he would have to swim across.
He waded into the black water and began swimming toward the other side. He was but a short way from shore when he caught the scent of the strange creature, the odor that he found repulsive.
As he paddled he caught sight of something floating in the stream. At first it appeared to be a log, but as it neared him he saw that it was not a log, but a living creature…and it was coming toward him.
He was not yet halfway across the creek, and decided his chances would be better by returning to the bank from which he had started. He turned, and paddling with all his might, he started for shore.
The thing was moving fast, and barely making a ripple in the water as it closed the distance between them.
He kept swimming until he was near enough to shore that his feet touched bottom. Nearly exhausted, he pulled himself out onto the muddy bank. He was out of the water now, and safe.
He lay there and panted, watching the creature. It was no longer moving, but was lying still in the water, only a short distance from the point on the bank where Whiskers rested. Its eyes, protruding above the water, were watching him.
He feared, but at the same time was fascinated with the creature. He had been swimming with Stan and Louise on occasion in a place they called "Lake Sylvan," a spacious area with a sandy shore and clear water. But he had never seen a creature like this in those waters.
Feeling rested now, he stood up. He watched as it glided through the water, making not even a ripple as it came toward him. It came close to the bank where Whiskers was standing, and suddenly the water seemed to explode as the creature emerged, its huge jaws opened wide. Its mouth was big enough to hold his entire body.
The little dog jumped back, narrowly escaping the jaws as they clamped down. The monster slid back down into the water.
He began barking and growling his fiercest at the beast, even jumping toward it and feinting an attack. His efforts did not intimidate the creature into retreating, but only resulted in his sliding closer to the water's edge.
To Whisker's dismay, the beast abruptly came out of the water and crawled up onto the bank. Surprised, Whiskers turned and ran. He was forced to move as fast as he could in the muck, for the creature could run surprisingly fast. Whiskers was slowed down by the soggy ground and was terrified as the big gator was gaining on him. He could not move at top speed in the gooey mud, and he was tiring.
He barely managed to keep ahead of the creature, which did not seem the least bit affected by the mud. Just as the gator was within inches, Whiskers felt his paws touch dry ground. He was on a hammock--a stretch of high ground in the swamp. With a burst of speed he quickly pulled away from the monster. As Whiskers gained ground, the gator gave up the chase and crawled back into the murky water.
Seeing that his pursuer had given up, he stopped to rest for a moment. He decided against swimming the creek. Instead He followed its course, hoping to find a way to cross it.
After a long while, he found it. A tree had fallen across the creek providing him with a bridge. He eyed the water below, and gingerly stepped onto the fallen log. It was wet and slippery, and he was wary of using it to cross the creek. But the urge to get home trumped his fear. Halfway across he had to struggle to keep his footing on the slimy surface of the log.
He fought to keep from falling, his heart racing at the thought of the huge creature that would be waiting in the murky waters below. His struggles were all in vain, for the log was just too slippery and he splashed into the water.
Paddling furiously, he managed to reach the other side safely. He shook himself and moved on.
***
It was almost dark when he reached high ground on the other side of the swamp. He was hungry and sleepy now. He surprised another rabbit, which bolted at the sight of him. He gave pursuit, but this time not for the joy of the chase; the hungry Whiskers now saw it as a meal. But this one also escaped.
Weary and still hungry, Whiskers found a spot on a small hillock and bedded down for the night.
Dawn came, and he continued his journey. The sun was high in the sky when he heard a distant rumbling. The sky turned dark and a heavy rain followed. He found a tree trunk partly hollowed out near the roots, the only cover available.
The flashing light and thunderous noise frightened him.
The storm blew over. The tree had given a degree of protection, but some of Whiskers' coat was exposed and was soaked. Shivering, he went on his way. The sun came out soon afterward, giving warmth and drying his coat. During the second day of his journey, he encountered several more small animals, squirrels, rats, and rabbits, but he was unable to catch any of them. He was no hunter; Stan and Louise had always provided for him.
Near sundown he came to a small stream. It was narrow and shallow. The water was clear, so he could see that no dangerous creatures were lurking in it. He drank his fill and waded across. That night, he again bedded down hungry.
Chapter 6
Pit bulls
On the afternoon of the third day, as he made his way through patches of palmetto and scrub brush, he abruptly stopped and sniffed the air. People. Dogs. Food. He followed the smells, and shortly thereafter he sighted a lone house in the woods.
He approached the house cautiously, for he sensed that all was not right here. There was an air of foreboding about the house. Foul odors were emanating from the place, odors that would not come from a normal house. His instincts urged him to avoid this house, to keep moving.
He was hungry, and the urge to go to the house in hopes of getting food was almost overwhelming. But his senses warned him of danger, and he decided the risk was too great to stop here on the chance that he might get food.
As he was moving to skirt around the house, he came upon a dirt road. He chose to follow the road leading away from the property. At that moment a dog started barking and a moment later two men emerged from the house.
The sight of the two men, and the smell of food coming from the house enticed him to stop. His hunger pangs were too great to ignore.
"Well, looky what we got here, Clyde. Just what the doctor ordered."
"Yeah, we won't have to go out lookin' for more bait for ol' Bully. He chuckled. With the fights comin' up this Sunday, he needs the practice to get in a mean mood."
Whiskers didn't understand what the men were saying, but he sensed that they were not to be trusted. He backed away.
One of the men ran into the house, and moments later he returned with something in his hand. Meat. He held it out. "C'mon mutt, here's a treat for ya."
Though Whiskers was starving, he refused to accept the food. The man broke off a small chunk of the meat and threw it on the grass, about halfway between himself and the little dog. Keeping his eye on the man, Whiskers advanced slowly, then gulped down the food.
The man broke off another small chunk, and again threw it about halfway between himself and the dog. Whiskers paused, then still keeping an eye on the man, warily crept forward and grabbed the food.
The man broke off a third small chunk of meat and threw it down almost directly in front of himself.
Still not trusting the man, the dog hesitated. But hunger overrode his mistrust. He quickly moved forward, intending to grab the meat and run. But one of the men reached down and grabbed him while the other slipped a choke chain around his neck.
"He's OK to handle…has his rabies tags on his collar. 'Whiskers,' now ain't that cute. Belongs to some people named Stan and Louise Woodson," he laughed dryly. "Ha. He belongs to Bully boy now."
Whiskers backed away, but the chain tightened. The more he pulled on the chain, the tighter it got. He eased up and the chain loosened.
The men dragged him into a fenced area. Whiskers was used to a fenced yard, but this one was different. It was much higher than He was accustomed to. There were several cages in the fenced yard, one of them holding a small dog, about Whiskers' size and another held a cat.
Two bigger dogs were not caged, but were chained. The chained dogs snarled and barked at him as he passed near them. He sensed that the chained dogs were dangerous. Though they were much larger dogs, he defiantly growled back.
"Spunky, ain't ya. That's the way we like 'em, cause you'll make good bait for ol' Bully. He needs to keep in practice by rippin' critters like you to pieces."
They passed a square pen enclosed by a low wooden fence in the middle of the yard. Whiskers sniffed, and smelled the foul odor of death coming from the pen…that of dried blood and rotted flesh.
He was led to a cage and thrown in. He looked pleadingly at the men, hoping they would bring him the rest of the meat. The small chunks had merely whetted his appetite. He was also thirsty, and found a small amount of water in the bottom of a pan.
He lapped it up, then looked at the men and whined.
"Want the rest of that meat and some water do ya? When tomorrow comes, food and water will be the least of your worries, mutt."
He then retrieved the meat and threw it to one of the chained dogs. "Here ya go Bully boy. Build up your strength for the fights."
Whiskers watched as the men left and entered the house. He searched for a way out, but there was none. At dusk, one of the men came back bringing food to Whiskers, the other caged dog, and the cat. It was a small amount of food, and not as tasty as the meat, but he hungrily gobbled it up.
The man then filled his water bowl. "Don't want ya dyin' on us before Bully gets to ya."
Feeling sated, Whiskers lay down on the hard concrete floor and curled up. The floor was cold and hard, but he was exhausted from the past three days and sleep came quickly.
***
The next morning the men came for him. They dragged him from the cage and led him to the square wooden pen. One of the big dogs was brought to the pen. A door was raised, and the big dog eagerly entered."Ha. Ol' Bully looks like he's ready and rarin' to go. Good boy!"
One of the men picked Whiskers up and held him over the pen.
He didn't put him in the pen right away, but held him up just out of reach of the big pit bull.
He laughed as he lowered Whiskers to within a few inches of the big dog's massive jaws. Bully lunged, and the man jerked Whiskers back. The little dog was showing his teeth and growling. The man lowered him again and once more jerked him back.
The big pit bull was visibly enraged.
The man laughed. "Are ya getting' mad Bully boy? Couple of more times and you'll really be ballistic."
He held Whiskers out again and once more jerked him back as the big pit bull lunged. This time Whiskers managed to twist his head around and his teeth found one of the man's fingers. He clamped down, drawing blood. The man yelled out in pain and dropped the little dog just outside the pen.
"Why you little son of a… I'll be glad to see Bully rip you to shreds."
Clyde was laughing. "Guess that'll teach ya to wear your damn gloves, Joe…like I been tryin' to tell ya."
Whiskers was running around the yard with Joe and Clyde in pursuit. The two men finally managed to trap him in a corner and Clyde, wearing gloves, grabbed him up.
At that instant Whiskers heard the familiar sound of engines. He looked to see several cars arriving. All the men were wearing big round hats.
The man holding Whiskers dropped him and started to run.
"Hold it right there, or I'll shoot. Hit the ground…Hit it!"
Both men fell to the ground.
"Clyde Johnson and Joe Sanders, I have a warrant for your arrest."
"You got nothing' on us. You just see a few dogs around. You gonna arrest us for that? You can't make this stick."
"We've got videos showing the both of you participating in dog fighting, and using this pit here in your own back yard to stage fights. If that's not enough, We have witnesses to testify that you were both illegally gambling at fights."
The lawmen talked to the men some more, then handcuffed them and led them away.
"We'll need to call animal control to come get these animals. Man, this is pitiful. I hope they throw those two in jail and throw away the key."
"Yeah, but some lawyer will probably manage to rig up a jury and judge that will free them. Still, we do our job the best we can."
"We need to get the photographer over here to get pictures of all the animals, training equipment, and the pit."
One of the deputies was familiar to Whiskers. It was the one at the accident, who had chased him into the woods. The man looked at Whiskers, then at his partner.
"Hey, I know this dog. He belongs to Stan Woodson, a guy who was in an accident a few days ago.
"The poor guy asked about his Whiskers as soon as he came to. He'll be overjoyed when he sees him, and I'll bet the dog'll be happy, too."
The lawman approached Whiskers slowly. "C'mon Whiskers. I'm gonna get you back to your family."
Whiskers was still not trustful of the man, even though the man had called him by name. He did not see the lawman as an enemy; to the contrary he now saw the man as a friend. But uppermost in the mind of the little dog was his goal to return home. Nothing must stop him from reaching that goal.
The deputy kept edging closer, and unexpectedly made a grab for the little dog. But the wary Whiskers jumped away and made a beeline for the gate, left open by a deputy when escorting the two criminals out.
"Hey! Somebody shut the gate…quick."
One of the deputies who was standing near the gate ran to close it. But it was too late. Whiskers beat him to the gate and was already heading for the woods.
Frustrated, the deputy could only watch as Whiskers disappeared into the tall brush, escaping him for the second time. He would call the Woodsons and inform them of what had happened. At least they could take heart that their Whiskers was still alive. In addition, the dog being found at this location indicated that he was probably trying to find his way home.
But the deputy dreaded the call.
***
Stan listened as the deputy explained what had happened. "Don't feel bad," he said, "you did all you could and we appreciate that. And yes, I think you may be right about Whiskers trying to find his way home. We'll certainly be on the lookout for him…yes, we'll give you a call as soon as he shows up. Thanks again for calling."
Louise was sitting in her easy chair, knitting. "Who was that, Dear?"
"Corporal Green. He found Whiskers, but the little guy managed to escape him again."
Stan related to her all that Green had told him.
"At least we know our little Whiskers is still alive. Green is an animal lover, and he feels real bad about it."
"You said something about him finding his way home?"
"He was about halfway between here and the place where I had the wreck. That's a good sign."
Louise brightened up. "He's going to make it home. I feel it. I have no doubts at all."
Chapter 7
The rest area
Whiskers continued his trek through the woods, following the homing instinct built into his brain. He kept going until he came to a divided highway. This was not the rural road leading to his home, but he recognized the scents. He had traveled this road with Stan many times before.
He started following the road, going in the direction that he knew would lead to his rural road. Several hours had passed since escaping the place with the evil men and vicious dogs, and it was getting dark now. He was tired, footsore, and hungry when he came to a place on the side of the road with lots of people.
He smelled other dogs, and there was food, too. He remembered his bad experience when he was attracted to the same kind of smells the day before. His senses didn't warn him of any evil here, but he was still cautious and approached the rest area warily.
He reached a place where many cars were parked and people were coming and going. He was sniffing around for any food that might have been dropped or thrown away when he looked up to see a car coming toward him. He tried to jump out of the way, but knew that he would not make it. The instant it hit him he blacked out.
When he came to, a little girl was hovering over him and gently stroking his head.
"Liz. What are you doing?"
"It's a dog, Mom. He was hit by a car that was on the way out. They didn't even stop."
"I've warned you about going near strange animals, Hon. He could be diseased. Go in the Ladies room and wash your hands. Right now."
"But Mom, he has his rabies tags and they're up to date. He wasn't sick or anything, just sniffing around when the car hit him. It wasn't speeding, and I think the bumper knocked him out of the way."
"Go wash your hands anyway."
Sally Roberts kneeled down. "He looks like he's coming to." In spite of herself, she reached out to pet the dog. Whiskers licked her hand.
"Oh great. Now we'll both have to wash our hands."
"Mom, can we keep him, please?"
"No, Liz. We can't."
"But Mom, you promised me a puppy for my birthday, and it's only a few days away. Besides, you love animals and have always taught me to be kind to them."
"Darn it, Hon. You know how to push the right button, don't you."
Liz was sobbing now. "We can't just leave him here can we?"
Sally reached out to pet him again, and Whiskers stood up unsteadily and wagged his tail.
She looked at the tags on his collar. "His name is Whiskers, and his owners cared enough to put their names on his tag, too. Funny that they would dump him here, but people do strange things." She paused. "Or maybe they stopped here and lost him. But I suppose we should try to find his owner."
"That would probably be a waste of time," said Liz. "If they dumped him here they sure wouldn't claim him. OK, maybe they were just passing through and lost him, but if they did they went on without him."
Sally nodded. "It looks like a tag is missing from one of the rings on his collar. Probably had an address and phone number.
She shook her head. "There's not much chance of finding them anyway." She paused. "He looks hungry. Go to the car and get a piece of fried chicken from the cooler--but don't give him the bones, just the meat."
Liz tearfully hugged her mom, then ran to the car.
"After he eats, take him to the right side of the door of the ladies room; I saw a hose there. We don't have any soap, but at least we can get the dried mud off. There's a short length of clothesline rope in the trunk that we can attach to his collar to leash him."
Whiskers gobbled up the chicken and some cheese crackers. He wasn't overly enthusiastic about getting rinsed off, but he tolerated it as he was used to baths by Stan and Louise.
They dried him with paper towels from the ladies room and led him to the car.
Chapter 8
The long ride
With each passing day, Whiskers knew that he was getting farther and farther away from home. He had made several attempts to escape the woman and girl, but they kept him leashed.
They had stopped and stayed the night in a room, and here they had kept him unleashed except when they took him out for a walk. Try as he might, he could not escape.
They were kind to him, and he felt affection for them. They fed him and petted him, and he appreciated that. But his desire to return home was strong, for he still remembered that Stan was hurt and in trouble, and he must somehow get Louise to help. He was always seeking a way to escape.
At the end of the second day, it was well after dark and they still had not stopped for the night.
"We should have stopped at Kelly's Motor Lodge," said Liz, "Now it's almost nine and we still haven't found a place."
"It was only 5:30 when we reached Kelly's," said Sally, "still too early. But you're right, we should've stopped."
"Hey, there's a sign," said Liz. "Gud Nite Motel, next exit."
They pulled off at the exit to find that there were no businesses at the intersection, but a sign told them that the Gud Nite Motel was a half-mile north on the state road.
***
"Kind of tacky looking place, and it's cheap," said Sally, "but I'm bushed and willing to settle for any place with a bed.""Not many cars here, so they have plenty of vacancies," Liz observed.
Sally had to awaken the night clerk, who checked them in and sent them to room eight.
Their room was at the end of the building, next to a wooded area.
"All these vacancies, and he sends us way back here," said Sally.
"Definitely not cool. It's dark back here, and scary."
They pulled up to their assigned parking slot and stopped. Whiskers, who had been sleeping in the back seat, raised his head, and with his nose pointed toward the wooded area, made a low, deep throated growl.
"What's with Whiskers?" said Liz. "He's never acted this way before."
Sally opened the door and stepped out of the car. "Maybe he was just dreaming," she said.
But the low growl turned into an excited, high pitched bark. He was focused on the wooded area. Liz looked toward the woods and made out a shadowy figure. It faded into the trees when Whiskers started barking.
"Mom, quick, get back in the car."
But Sally had also spotted the figure and was already getting in. Without a word, she started the car, and they left.
***
Fortunately, they found a much better place only a few miles farther.The next morning, they were listening to the local news on the clock-radio in their room. They weren't paying much attention until the announcer mentioned a robbery during the night…of a couple staying at the Gud Nite Motel.
Sally and Liz both gasped. After they recovered from their shock, they heaped praise on Whiskers.
"Good boy. Good, good boy!"
He did not understand why he was praised, but he liked it.
***
But as much as Whiskers was fond of Sally and Liz, he still looked for a way to escape and resume his homeward journey. It would come at the next stop.
***
"Are we in New Mexico yet Mom?"
"So you're awake now, Sleepyhead." Sally smiled. "You've been snoozing for the last hour. No, we're not in New Mexico yet, but we're almost to El Paso. When we get to El Paso we're almost in New Mexico." She looked at the clock on the dashboard. "The state line is about an hour away."
"Can we stop somewhere? I have to go to the bathroom."
"There's gas stations and motels at the intersection just ahead. I'll stop for gas, and we might as well spend one more night in a motel." She yawned. "I'm totally bushed. We have better than three hours of driving before we get to Albuquerque, and it's after eight already. We'll get up in the morning feeling fresh and set sail for home."
"It'll be totally cool to be home again."
"That's for sure," said Sally, "and I can promise you this. It will be a long time before we visit your uncle in Florida again. Next time it'll be his turn to come visit us."
Liz leaned forward. "Mom! What was that big animal crossing the road? Did you see it? It looked like a big dog."
"It's not a dog, Hon. I got a good look at it in the headlights. I'm almost sure that was a wolf."
"Wolves in Texas?"
"They had a special on TV a while back about the Mexican Wolf Recovery Program. It's supposed to be making a big comeback all over the southwest, and some have been spotted here in the northern Chihuahuan Desert."
"Cool."
***
Once again they stopped and Whiskers was led into a room. Liz removed the rope from his collar just as Sally opened the door to bring in a suitcase. Whiskers saw his chance and darted out into the night.He heard the woman and girl calling for him as he wandered away. He almost responded to their calls, for they had been kind to him, but he kept moving until their voices faded away. And some instinct pulled him eastward, toward home.
Chapter 9
The Cougar and the bear
The little dog moved along in an environment that was completely unfamiliar to him. The bright moonlight revealed vegetation that was low and sparse, and there were no trees. The land was sandy and the air was dry. The terrain was hilly and mostly barren, except for the brush that dotted the landscape. It was far different from the lush vegetation, humid air, and flat land that he was accustomed to.
As he moved deeper into desert country, unfamiliar sounds reached his ears: the occasional chirp of a night bird or of an insect. He heard the yips and howls of a nearby creature and at the same time caught its scent. The scent was familiar.
It was of a dog-like creature that had once visited Stan's property. Stan called it a coyote.
Later, another sound came to his ears that was strange to him: a high pitched scream, almost like that of a human female. It reminded him of Gail's scream when she saw the snake.
A few moments after the scream he caught a scent in his nostrils that was also familiar, but only vaguely so. The scent was very close to that of a cat, but the scent was definitely not that of an ordinary cat.
He remembered the scent of another creature with a scent similar to the cat. It was of an animal that had once ventured onto Stan's property. He called this one a bobcat.
Whiskers had seen the bobcat and the coyote only once, but their sights and scents were stored permanently in his memory banks.
Though the cat-scent that came to him now was similar to the bobcat's, it was definitely the scent of a different animal. Some instinct in him told him that this was a dangerous predator…one that would consider him as its prey.
He moved on until he grew weary and settled down for the night in a small space between two boulders. That night he heard the scream once more.
He awakened just before dawn to spot the creature in the distance. The wind direction was in Whisker's favor, so the animal was not yet aware of him.
It was a large, tawny cat, easily the size of a big dog.
The scent of the animal never quite left his nostrils, and as he moved along the scent grew stronger. He sensed that the cat was now aware of him and that he was being stalked.
As the scent of the big cat grew stronger, he picked up yet another scent--a scent of another animal that he did not recognize.
The cat was dangerously close now, and Whiskers began to pick up on its location. It was to his rear--and not very far. The animal was extremely elusive, for even though it was very close, it was able to keep itself hidden. Whiskers expected the cat to pounce on him at any moment.
And then he saw the other creature. The thing was huge. It reared up on its hind legs, making it appear even more huge. Whiskers had never seen its like before, but he instinctively knew that it was dangerous.
Whiskers felt trapped. The huge creature was in front of him, and apparently wasn't concerned whether he saw it or not. To his rear…lurking somewhere…was the very dangerous big cat.
Whiskers was disadvantaged. He was not a creature of the wild, though he still carried remnants of his distant ancestor's instincts. The two animals he faced were born in the wild, with all instincts intact.
An even greater disadvantage was his size. He was much smaller than either of the menacing creatures he was facing. But he was a brighter-than-average dog, and that was the only thing going for him.
He sensed that his two stalkers were rivals. Perhaps he could use that to his advantage.
He knew the cat was dangerously close behind. The big creature was directly in front of him. He dared not make a run to his left or right; if he did the big cat would be on him in an instant. But if he kept going straight, the giant creature--which had not picked up on him yet--would attack.
If he could lure the cat near enough to the big creature, hopefully the two would fight each other over their quarry. But he would have to wait until the two were close enough to see each other.
He would need to get close to the big animal…but not too close. He could do nothing now but continue on a straight path, leading directly toward the bigger predator. He was getting perilously close to the big one now. It reared up on its hind legs and bellowed. Whiskers glanced behind him to see the cat, now in view.
The two animals were close enough now for a confrontation. They would either challenge each other or one of them would concede to the other and turn tail. If that happened, Whiskers would still be a quarry of the victor.
The two animals faced each other now. The giant stood on his hind legs and roared. The big cat snarled and returned the big creature's growls. Whiskers froze as the two animals exchanged threats. The big animal, without warning, suddenly went to all fours and charged the cat. The snarling cat did not retreat, but stood its ground.
Whiskers did not wait to see the outcome, but ran as fast as he could away from the scene. The giant animal appeared to have no interest in Whiskers; it was apparently incensed by the cat, and the cat had lost all interest in its prey.
He ran until he was exhausted before he slowed down to a walk.
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