WHISKERS (Conclusion)
Whiskers continued on. His determination to return home never wavered. He knew that he had a long way to go, but his homing instinct kept him going. And he still had not forgotten that Stan was in trouble and needed help, and that he must reach Louise.
The sun was getting low in the cloudless sky now. The day had been hot, and Whiskers was thirsty. He had kept moving, except to occasionally stop in the shade of a stand of brush or a boulder. He was weak and exhausted and the pads of his paws were raw from walking on the hot, sandy ground.
He was almost ready to drop now. He yearned for water, but his searches for it had been fruitless. But he perked up as the faint smell of water came to him now, and he sniffed the air trying to locate the source.
A few small trees were visible ahead, and that seemed to be the water source. He struggled on until he finally reached a small, shallow stream, with small trees and brush lining its shores. He made it almost to the water's edge.
He dragged himself to the edge of the stream. With no heed of any dangerous beasts that might be in the water, he drank his fill, and collapsed on the bank.
This was a predator to be feared as much as the big cat, and maybe even as much as the giant creature.
His every instinct told Whiskers to run, but he simply did not have the strength. Even the adrenaline pumped by fear was not enough to move him. He could only watch as she kept sniffing and seemed to be trying to make up her mind about something.
Although the animal was a wild, dangerous predator, it was still dog-like. When she came close and sniffed him, he pleaded the mercy of a fellow canine; he rolled over on his back and whined.
She lowered her head next to his and opened her huge jaws. Whiskers knew this was the end, and he squeezed his eyes shut in anticipation of the huge jaws closing and crushing his head.
Instead, he felt her nudging him over on his stomach, and then felt the jaws grasping the loose skin on the nape of his neck. He then felt himself lifted and being carried. Moments later he was deposited next to a pair of pups.
Whiskers knew that in the mother's mind he was to be a pup, and he decided to play the part. She left the den, and Whiskers stayed put. Any attempt to escape now might anger her and make her see that he wasn't a pup after all.
He and the two pups were just outside of a cave-like hole in the side of a hill. It had been dug, probably by the female, under a small boulder. The mini cave was near the roots of small tree, which gave it strength. The den was near the stream.
The mother returned, and Whiskers found himself the recipient of the contents of the mother's mouth. The hungry Whiskers accepted, and was ready and waiting for more when she went out to bring him another mouthful.
But the third time it was not the mother who returned; it was a male. It sniffed Whiskers, then emitted a low growl. Whiskers could not hope to escape by running. Instead, as he had done with the female, he rolled over on his back in submission, putting himself at the mercy of the big male.
Fortunately for Whiskers, the mother returned at that moment.
She rushed to his defense, placing herself between the male and Whiskers. The male backed off, and the female approached him. The two then exchanged affectionate nuzzling. The two, Whiskers sensed, were the parents of the pups.
The next day, after both the male and female had left the den, he saw a huge bird circling overhead. Sensing danger, Whiskers, with some difficulty, herded the defiant pups into the cave. He barely made it in himself as the bird swooped down.
However, the pups would not go all the way in, and this kept Whiskers from getting his entire body in the cave. He bared his teeth and growled at the big bird, but to no avail. Now that the bird was on the ground, within less than a foot from him, it looked even more big and fierce.
Its claws were big enough to easily grasp a small dog like Whiskers, and its huge beak was powerful and sharp. Whiskers tried to force the pups, oblivious to the danger, further inside. But they would not yield.
Just as Whiskers was getting ready to make a run for it--which he knew would be futile--the male returned. He chased the bird away, and Whiskers and the pups came out.
From then on the pups were never left alone; either the male or female remained at the den while the other hunted.
For the next two days he romped with the two pups, exchanged affectionate licking and nuzzling with both the male and female, and accepted the mother's food offerings.
By the third day he had regained his strength and decided to leave. He waited for the female to leave the den, and then waited for the male to nap.
He then grabbed a stick and pushed it at one of the pups, enticing the pup to a game of takeaway. He and the two pups played with the stick and chased each other. The big male would occasionally raise his head and glance at them, and then resume his nap.
Whiskers waited until the pups were growling and fighting each other for the stick. He left slowly, creeping so as not to awaken the male, and when he was far enough away, he started running as fast as his legs would carry him. He wanted to be far enough away that by the time the parents discovered him missing, they would be unable to catch him and bring him back.
As with the woman and her daughter, he felt affection for the female, the male, and their pups. They had treated him kindly and nursed him back to health, but the call of home was strong, and he once again set out on his homeward journey.
Whiskers had been traveling all day since leaving the wolf and her pups that morning. His luck was better now. He came across a shallow stream late in the morning, providing him with a welcome cool drink of water, and in the afternoon it rained, giving him some respite from the heat.
He had been moving in a southeasterly direction, and just before nightfall he came to a paved road. He followed the road for a short way until he came to an intersection. There were lots of people here and the smell of food from one of the places was strong.
Whiskers had learned from his experience with the two dogs he once teamed up with that there were containers in the rear of such places where food could be found. He went behind the building and proceeded to dig through the trash until he sniffed out a discarded paper bag containing scraps of meat and bread.
After finishing his meal, the weary Whiskers crawled into an empty cardboard box and slept through the night.
A man called, "C'mere, boy," followed by another whistle.
Whiskers stopped, and almost instinctively responded, but moved farther away from the road and ignored the call. He sensed that the people in the car were wanting to help him, but he remembered the woman and girl who had previously picked him up. They, too, intended to help him, but instead interrupted his journey home. He would not be interrupted again.
The car pulled away and he continued his homeward journey.
The hot sun had been beating down all morning and Whiskers kept to the shade of roadside signs, guardrails, and what other little shade was available along the highway. But now the sky began to darken, and to Whiskers relief rain came. It was but a drizzle, but he welcomed it.
Early in the afternoon, another car pulled over. But this one was a considerable distance ahead of him, and instead of calling to him, they tossed something from the car and kept going.
Whiskers was getting hungry again, and hoped that it might be food. He approached the item to discover that it was a mesh bag. He could see the contents, and the bag held two kittens!
He picked up the bag in his mouth and attempted to find a way to open it. But it was tied securely with a drawstring and was of a strong mesh material.
As the bag was picked up the kittens started mewing. He gently set the bag back down, and realized that he would need help from people to release the kittens.
Whiskers wanted to keep moving; he wanted no more delays in his journey. But something deep inside him would not let him leave the kittens to such a fate. Perhaps because he, himself had experienced cruelty.
The little creatures were getting wet, but that was better than being exposed to the hot sun.
He looked around and spotted a group of houses in the distance. He could see no road leading to the houses; an expanse of sandy land and brush lay between him and the dwellings.
He picked up the bag and started across the field toward the houses. The two kittens were not a heavy load, but Whiskers was a small dog and had to stop for rest frequently. He sometimes carried, sometimes dragged his load.
Nearly exhausted, he made it a little over halfway across the field before the bag caught and snagged on a bush. He tried to free the bag, but it would not budge.
He left the bag and set out for the houses. He had gone but a short way when he picked up a scent that he recognized. It was a fox.
He had been so absorbed in trying to free the kittens that he had failed to notice the approach of the fox.
He looked back to see that the fox was slinking toward the kittens, intent on making them a meal. Growling and barking fiercely, he ran back to protect the kittens.
The fox retreated, but stayed close. It was a little bigger than Whiskers, and probably would have gotten the best of the little weakened dog in a fight.
But the fox smelled a dog, a dangerous enemy to the fox. It preferred not to risk a fight with a dog. But it stayed close, hoping for a chance at the kittens.
Whiskers eyed the fox. Once it made a pretense of leaving, only to circle around and return. But Whiskers did not fall for the ruse.
But he had to do something. He couldn't stay there indefinitely, but neither could he leave the kittens.
He finally decided on drastic action. Showing his teeth and growling, he charged directly at the fox. He would fight the fox if necessary, even if it meant serious injury--or worse.
It was up to the fox now: fight or flight. It growled and snarled, baring its teeth. It showed fight.
But Whiskers, adrenaline up now, continued the charge. He was determined that this was do or die for him.
The fox saw that its bluff did not work. It turned tail just before Whiskers reached it. It wanted no part of a dog. It retreated with Whiskers hot on its tail.
When he decided that he had chased the fox far enough away, he returned to the kittens. After resting, he tugged at the bag again. This time it broke free.
He carried and dragged the kittens to a point near the houses. He set the bag down and went to the nearest house. Dogs barked, and the scent coming from the house told Whiskers that two dogs were here.
The next house had one dog. The scent from the third house, however, told whiskers that a cat resided there.
He retrieved the bag and brought it to the third house. He set the bag down on the back porch, barked, and scratched on the door. He barked again and a woman came to the door. She reminded Whiskers of Louise.
"What in the world did you bring here, boy?"
She stooped for a closer look. "Oh my…there's something alive in there. Good Heavens…it's kittens."
She picked up the bag and carried it inside where she used scissors to cut the knotted top to free the little kitties. She filled a saucer with warm milk and the kittens hungrily lapped it up.
Her husband entered the kitchen. "Where on Earth did you get the kittens?"
"You won't believe it but a little dog brought them to our back door. It appears someone tried to throw them away."
"Where's the dog?"
"Omigosh. The little fella is on the back porch. I'd better check on him."
She ran to the back porch to find him leaving her yard. She ran and scooped him up in her arms and brought him into the house.
"He looks like he's been starved, his ribs are showing. I'll get him something."
She gave him some leftover meatloaf from the refrigerator. He wagged his tail as he wolfed down the meal, and then drank water from the cat's bowl.
The husband picked up the phone. "The kittens and the dog need to be examined. I'll call the vet and set up an appointment for them."
He made the call and hung up. "The vet said that she can see them now if I get them in before 4:30."
He gathered Whiskers into his arms and carried him out to the car. He placed the little dog on the back seat, then returned to the house for the kittens. He put the kittens into the cat carrier and took them out to the car.
When he opened the door to place the carrier on the seat, Whiskers bounded out of the car. Before the man could react, the dog was out of the yard and heading through the brushy field toward the highway.
Whiskers resumed his much-interrupted journey. He kept to the grass on the side of the highway as he traveled to avoid the danger of being struck, and also to keep out of sight as much as possible.
The sun was setting when he came to another intersection. He rummaged through more trash and garbage until he found a half-eaten fish sandwich.
After finishing his meal, he went under a nearby overpass, where the interstate crossed a local road, to spend the night. He found that there were already two men there. One of them tried to shoo him off, but the other defended him.
"He's my dog, man, and he can stay here if he wants."
"I don't believe you, dude. You ain't got no dog."
"I have now. I just adopted him." He whistled softly. "C'mere boy. It's gonna get chilly and we can keep each other warm."
Whiskers went to the man and wagged his tail as the man pet him. "Hey, betcha we can be buddies. You're probably a vagabond like ol' Cholly." He chuckled. "Cholly, that's me. Your tag says Whiskers, but I'll just call you Buddy, OK?"
The other man spoke up. "OK, keep the damn dog. It's a free country, and I ain't one to cause trouble." His tone softened, and he laughed. "Vagabond? Ha. You're a stinkin' bum like me, beggin' change for coffee or a swig of wine." He laughed and held up a nearly empty wine bottle. "By the way, where ya headed?"
"N'Orleans is my next stop. I hear it's a sweet place. How about yourself?"
"California. Most anywhere in California, really. I kinda like L.A. though."
"Well, to each his own."
The other man took a last swig and tossed away the empty wine bottle, rolled over, and pulled a tattered woolen blanket over himself. In minutes, he was snoring.
Cholly picked up a guitar and strummed as he sang softly.
Morning came and the other man was gone. Cholly went to the diner and brought back coffee and sandwiches, which he shared with Whiskers. He also shared some water that he had in a canteen.
Cholly strapped on his backpack, guitar, and the two set out.
"It's gonna be a little harder to hitch a ride with you tagging along. But you know what? I don't care, cause I enjoy your company."
As they sauntered along, Cholly continued talking to his new found friend.
"You're a whole lot better company than most folks, Buddy. Know what? I used to have a wife and some friends, but one of my friends ran off with my wife. Good riddance. Can't blame her though. I'm not an ideal husband, always been a vagabond at heart. Just like in the song, "Ain't no woman gonna tell me how to spend my time."
They walked a short distance, but kept close to the intersection.
"We gotta stay where we can get off the interstate in case the cops spot us. Ain't supposed to hitchhike on interstates." He laughed. "If the cops spot us, we can walk down the ramp and tell 'em we're just leaving."
A pickup truck stopped with two teens in the front seat.
"We're going about thirty miles before we leave I-10. You and the dog can hop in the back if you want."
"Thanks." Cholly picked up Whiskers and put him in the truck, then hopped in himself.
The next two rides were for short hops, but a truck driver hauling produce carried them for almost two hundred miles. Cholly rewarded him by singing and strumming his guitar.
In between rides they would hike, and Cholly would talk to him. Although he did not understand what Cholly was saying, he felt comfortable with the almost constant chatter.
"Ya know what, Buddy? That dude we shared the underpass with last night was completely wrong about me. I don't bum, cause I don't have to. When my former wife divorced me, I had a pretty good bank account.
"I also had a plumbing business that I sold for a goodly amount. She didn't get a penny cause she ran off with another dude. Good thing we had no kids.
"I don't have to do this, Buddy boy, it's just something I always dreamed about. I got a check book and a credit card in my back pack, and I keep some cash there too. We ain't gonna starve.
"And ya now what, Buddy? I think I'm actually getting more rides with you tagging along. I s'pose people figure a dude with a dog is more apt to be honest."
By riding and hiking, Whiskers and his new found friend traveled nearly three hundred miles. They kept to the interstate when they could, but got chased off a couple of times. The little dog sensed he was getting nearer to home with each ride.
They reached an intersection that was apparently near a town. There were several gas stations, restaurants, and other buildings on each side of the interstate. It was getting dark, and Cholly looked for a place to bed down. One of the gas stations had a couple of sheltered picnic tables in the back.
No one was there, so Cholly chose one of the tables and spread his blanket on it.
"That'll make a nice bed. You wait here, Buddy, and I'll go get us something to eat." Whiskers lay down under the table and waited. Minutes later, he heard a noise, and saw another man coming. The intruder was a big man, and he reminded Whiskers of the huge beast he had encountered a few days earlier.
He stood up and growled low in his throat, but the man ignored him and chose the other table. Whiskers laid back down, but kept a wary eye on the intruder.
Presently Cholly came back. He and the man greeted each other.
"Care for a cheeseburger, man? I got an extra one here."
The man accepted, and after some small talk the two men--and Whiskers--ate quietly. They then bedded down for the night, each man lying on a table and Whiskers under the table.
***
Whiskers awakened to a noise. It was a barely detectable noise, but the keen ears of Whiskers picked it up. He looked to see the big man picking up Cholly's backpack.
He started growling and barking furiously. The man grabbed the backpack and started running. Cholly, now awake, jumped up and pursued the man. He caught the man halfway up an embankment leading up to the highway and tackled him.
The man went down, and as he lay on his back, he kicked out with his foot and caught Cholly in the pit of the stomach. Cholly tumbled down the embankment as the thief kept going. Whiskers caught the man's ankle between his small jaws. Even a small dog can have a powerful bite, and the man yelped with pain as Whiskers clamped down. But he kicked his foot shaking the small dog loose, and Whiskers followed Cholly down the embankment.
Cholly ran back up the embankment with Whiskers following. He looked up and down the highway, but the thief was nowhere in sight. There were groups of buildings on both sides of the highway, with wooded areas beyond the buildings.
"He moves pretty fast for a fat man," mused Cholly, "and besides he's carrying my back pack. But there are just too many places here for him to hide."
But the keen nose of Whiskers picked up the man's scent. He set out for the north side of the highway with Cholly following. Snuffling and sniffing the ground, occasionally stopping to sniff the air, Whiskers moved on. He moved through a group of buildings and continued on into a wooded area.
Whiskers didn't have the keen sense of smell of a hound, but all dogs have a sense of smell Far superior to humans. At times the trail would go cold, and Whiskers would seemingly go round in circles trying to pick up the scent.
Each time Whiskers lost the scent, Cholly would get discouraged.
"C'mon Buddy boy, we gotta hurry. That dude's getting farther away all the time."
But Whiskers did not give up. After losing the scent a few times, he finally picked up a fresh, strong scent. The scent of the big man's sweat told Whiskers the man was tiring.
Abruptly he stopped and growled. The man was trying to crawl under some underbrush. Whiskers went after the man, and once again grabbed the thief's ankle. The man cursed and jumped up. As he did Cholly attacked, his arms pumping and pummeling the man with his fists.
Cholly was smaller than the thief, and there wasn't much weight behind his blows, but he was wiry and quick, and his arms were moving like windmills.
The thief was trying to defend himself from the flurry of blows by Cholly, but the painful bites on his lower legs were too distracting. As the man leaned down in an attempt to grab Whiskers, Cholly brought his knee hard up into the big man's face, so hard that the impact rattled Cholly's teeth. At the same time he used both hands to chop him behind his neck. The man crumpled.
Cholly called Whiskers off the thief. As Cholly picked up his backpack, the thief groaned. "My nose…it's broke…it's bleeding."
"Oh, you poor man," said Cholly. "Want me to call 911?"
The man cursed him.
After going back to the picnic table, Cholly checked the contents of his backpack and found nothing missing.
"Ya know what, Buddy? If that dude had asked me for a few bucks I would've given it to him. Most of the men I meet on the road ain't like that. They're not above stealing, but they won't steal from each other." He laughed. "Most don't have anything to steal, anyway.
"That dude saw I was dressed a little better than the average man you see on the road. He saw my guitar, knew I had money to buy sandwiches, and probably figured I probably had a few things worth stealing."
It was almost dawn, so Cholly and Whiskers set out again.
That day they made another three hundred miles. The following day they were in luck. After spending the night under a bridge, Cholly went into a diner to get breakfast for himself and Whiskers.
A paunchy middle-aged man in the diner struck up a conversation with him. The man, it seems, had spent time on the road himself.
"Done a lot of hitchhiking in my youth. I loved the open road in those days. I've learned a lot about men, and I can tell you're not on the bum. Where ya headed?"
"N'Orleans."
"Hey, I'm going as far as Baton Rouge. You're welcome to ride with me."
"Thanks, but you should know I'm traveling with a dog."
"No problem, I love dogs. Load him in the back seat and we'll be on our way."
After the man dropped them off, they hiked for a few miles until arriving at the US61 cutoff. Cholly turned south and walked down the ramp leading to US61, which went straight to New Orleans. Cholly walked a couple of minutes, then noticed that his traveling companion was not following.
He looked back to see his little friend just sitting there, looking at him. He walked back a short way, and called to him.
"C'mon Buddy, what are you waiting for?"
Whiskers walked a short way toward the east, stopped, barked, then took a few more steps east.
"Well I'll be…you want me to keep going east, don't you? I don't think you're a vagabond after all, but you're on your way somewhere. Much as I love your companionship, my little pal, we're gonna have to part company here."
He walked back up the ramp to the interstate and called to the little dog. Whiskers came back to him, and Cholly kneeled down. He stroked Whiskers and patted his head.
"So long, little pal."
Cholly turned and headed south. Whiskers watched him for a few moments, then headed east.
Whiskers wanted to follow Cholly, but his home still called to him.
Whiskers was now streetwise in the ways of the stray dog. He was a survivor. He knew how to avoid traffic. He knew how to avoid the authorities. He avoided unfriendly dogs and wild animals. He knew where to find food and water. He knew where to find shelter.
He knew to avoid wild areas with predators, and kept near to the main highways as he moved. He would rummage through trash bins and garbage cans for discarded food. He would always search through the trash and garbage at night, so as to avoid hostile people.
He found water from streams under bridges and from rain puddles. He slept under overpasses, under bridges, and in rest areas.
There were no more rides since leaving Baton Rouge; it was all on foot now. Whiskers moved with determination, for he knew that he was nearing home, getting nearer with each step. He kept up a steady pace, stopping only for food, sleep, and to relieve himself.
***
It had been over two weeks since his parting with Cholly, and Whiskers could almost smell home now.
Whiskers faintly remembered a previous homecoming , a homecoming when there was no one to greet him--only an empty house. His family had deserted him.
He began to experience a vague feeling of trepidation as he neared home.
He came to the familiar highway which intersected with the interstate he was now traveling. He followed the ramp down to the highway and turned south. He was now in familiar territory.
He passed the little diner with its familiar smells, and right after the diner he turned right on his rural road. He was weary and footsore, almost to the point of collapsing. But his spirits were high now, and he picked up his pace.
She stopped what she was doing for a moment and listened, but hearing nothing she went back to her cooking. Then she heard the bark again, this time louder--and it was a familiar bark.
She was hoping against hope. "Please, please, let it be him." She cut the TV and heard the bark again, this time accompanied by scratching on the door.
She ran past the sleeping Stan to the door. She opened it...and screeched with joy.
"Stan," she yelled. "Stan! Wake up. It's Whiskers--he's come home."
She was crying and tears of joy were streaming down her cheeks.
"He's home."
Chapter 10
Wolf
Whiskers continued on. His determination to return home never wavered. He knew that he had a long way to go, but his homing instinct kept him going. And he still had not forgotten that Stan was in trouble and needed help, and that he must reach Louise.
The sun was getting low in the cloudless sky now. The day had been hot, and Whiskers was thirsty. He had kept moving, except to occasionally stop in the shade of a stand of brush or a boulder. He was weak and exhausted and the pads of his paws were raw from walking on the hot, sandy ground.
He was almost ready to drop now. He yearned for water, but his searches for it had been fruitless. But he perked up as the faint smell of water came to him now, and he sniffed the air trying to locate the source.
A few small trees were visible ahead, and that seemed to be the water source. He struggled on until he finally reached a small, shallow stream, with small trees and brush lining its shores. He made it almost to the water's edge.
He dragged himself to the edge of the stream. With no heed of any dangerous beasts that might be in the water, he drank his fill, and collapsed on the bank.
***
He awakened to a snuffling sound. First, he smelled a scent similar to that of a dog, and then he opened his eyes to see a dog-like animal. It looked like the coyote he had once seen, but was much larger. It was a female. Like the coyote, this creature was related to dogs, but was neither dog nor coyote. And she was much more formidable than the smaller coyote. She was sniffing him.This was a predator to be feared as much as the big cat, and maybe even as much as the giant creature.
His every instinct told Whiskers to run, but he simply did not have the strength. Even the adrenaline pumped by fear was not enough to move him. He could only watch as she kept sniffing and seemed to be trying to make up her mind about something.
Although the animal was a wild, dangerous predator, it was still dog-like. When she came close and sniffed him, he pleaded the mercy of a fellow canine; he rolled over on his back and whined.
She lowered her head next to his and opened her huge jaws. Whiskers knew this was the end, and he squeezed his eyes shut in anticipation of the huge jaws closing and crushing his head.
Instead, he felt her nudging him over on his stomach, and then felt the jaws grasping the loose skin on the nape of his neck. He then felt himself lifted and being carried. Moments later he was deposited next to a pair of pups.
Whiskers knew that in the mother's mind he was to be a pup, and he decided to play the part. She left the den, and Whiskers stayed put. Any attempt to escape now might anger her and make her see that he wasn't a pup after all.
He and the two pups were just outside of a cave-like hole in the side of a hill. It had been dug, probably by the female, under a small boulder. The mini cave was near the roots of small tree, which gave it strength. The den was near the stream.
The mother returned, and Whiskers found himself the recipient of the contents of the mother's mouth. The hungry Whiskers accepted, and was ready and waiting for more when she went out to bring him another mouthful.
But the third time it was not the mother who returned; it was a male. It sniffed Whiskers, then emitted a low growl. Whiskers could not hope to escape by running. Instead, as he had done with the female, he rolled over on his back in submission, putting himself at the mercy of the big male.
Fortunately for Whiskers, the mother returned at that moment.
She rushed to his defense, placing herself between the male and Whiskers. The male backed off, and the female approached him. The two then exchanged affectionate nuzzling. The two, Whiskers sensed, were the parents of the pups.
The next day, after both the male and female had left the den, he saw a huge bird circling overhead. Sensing danger, Whiskers, with some difficulty, herded the defiant pups into the cave. He barely made it in himself as the bird swooped down.
However, the pups would not go all the way in, and this kept Whiskers from getting his entire body in the cave. He bared his teeth and growled at the big bird, but to no avail. Now that the bird was on the ground, within less than a foot from him, it looked even more big and fierce.
Its claws were big enough to easily grasp a small dog like Whiskers, and its huge beak was powerful and sharp. Whiskers tried to force the pups, oblivious to the danger, further inside. But they would not yield.
Just as Whiskers was getting ready to make a run for it--which he knew would be futile--the male returned. He chased the bird away, and Whiskers and the pups came out.
From then on the pups were never left alone; either the male or female remained at the den while the other hunted.
For the next two days he romped with the two pups, exchanged affectionate licking and nuzzling with both the male and female, and accepted the mother's food offerings.
By the third day he had regained his strength and decided to leave. He waited for the female to leave the den, and then waited for the male to nap.
He then grabbed a stick and pushed it at one of the pups, enticing the pup to a game of takeaway. He and the two pups played with the stick and chased each other. The big male would occasionally raise his head and glance at them, and then resume his nap.
Whiskers waited until the pups were growling and fighting each other for the stick. He left slowly, creeping so as not to awaken the male, and when he was far enough away, he started running as fast as his legs would carry him. He wanted to be far enough away that by the time the parents discovered him missing, they would be unable to catch him and bring him back.
As with the woman and her daughter, he felt affection for the female, the male, and their pups. They had treated him kindly and nursed him back to health, but the call of home was strong, and he once again set out on his homeward journey.
Chapter 11
Kittens
Whiskers had been traveling all day since leaving the wolf and her pups that morning. His luck was better now. He came across a shallow stream late in the morning, providing him with a welcome cool drink of water, and in the afternoon it rained, giving him some respite from the heat.
He had been moving in a southeasterly direction, and just before nightfall he came to a paved road. He followed the road for a short way until he came to an intersection. There were lots of people here and the smell of food from one of the places was strong.
Whiskers had learned from his experience with the two dogs he once teamed up with that there were containers in the rear of such places where food could be found. He went behind the building and proceeded to dig through the trash until he sniffed out a discarded paper bag containing scraps of meat and bread.
After finishing his meal, the weary Whiskers crawled into an empty cardboard box and slept through the night.
***
He resumed his journey the next morning. As he walked along the shoulder of the highway, a car slowed down and pulled over on the shoulder. The door opened, and he heard a high pitched whistle.A man called, "C'mere, boy," followed by another whistle.
Whiskers stopped, and almost instinctively responded, but moved farther away from the road and ignored the call. He sensed that the people in the car were wanting to help him, but he remembered the woman and girl who had previously picked him up. They, too, intended to help him, but instead interrupted his journey home. He would not be interrupted again.
The car pulled away and he continued his homeward journey.
The hot sun had been beating down all morning and Whiskers kept to the shade of roadside signs, guardrails, and what other little shade was available along the highway. But now the sky began to darken, and to Whiskers relief rain came. It was but a drizzle, but he welcomed it.
Early in the afternoon, another car pulled over. But this one was a considerable distance ahead of him, and instead of calling to him, they tossed something from the car and kept going.
Whiskers was getting hungry again, and hoped that it might be food. He approached the item to discover that it was a mesh bag. He could see the contents, and the bag held two kittens!
He picked up the bag in his mouth and attempted to find a way to open it. But it was tied securely with a drawstring and was of a strong mesh material.
As the bag was picked up the kittens started mewing. He gently set the bag back down, and realized that he would need help from people to release the kittens.
Whiskers wanted to keep moving; he wanted no more delays in his journey. But something deep inside him would not let him leave the kittens to such a fate. Perhaps because he, himself had experienced cruelty.
The little creatures were getting wet, but that was better than being exposed to the hot sun.
He looked around and spotted a group of houses in the distance. He could see no road leading to the houses; an expanse of sandy land and brush lay between him and the dwellings.
He picked up the bag and started across the field toward the houses. The two kittens were not a heavy load, but Whiskers was a small dog and had to stop for rest frequently. He sometimes carried, sometimes dragged his load.
Nearly exhausted, he made it a little over halfway across the field before the bag caught and snagged on a bush. He tried to free the bag, but it would not budge.
He left the bag and set out for the houses. He had gone but a short way when he picked up a scent that he recognized. It was a fox.
He had been so absorbed in trying to free the kittens that he had failed to notice the approach of the fox.
He looked back to see that the fox was slinking toward the kittens, intent on making them a meal. Growling and barking fiercely, he ran back to protect the kittens.
The fox retreated, but stayed close. It was a little bigger than Whiskers, and probably would have gotten the best of the little weakened dog in a fight.
But the fox smelled a dog, a dangerous enemy to the fox. It preferred not to risk a fight with a dog. But it stayed close, hoping for a chance at the kittens.
Whiskers eyed the fox. Once it made a pretense of leaving, only to circle around and return. But Whiskers did not fall for the ruse.
But he had to do something. He couldn't stay there indefinitely, but neither could he leave the kittens.
He finally decided on drastic action. Showing his teeth and growling, he charged directly at the fox. He would fight the fox if necessary, even if it meant serious injury--or worse.
It was up to the fox now: fight or flight. It growled and snarled, baring its teeth. It showed fight.
But Whiskers, adrenaline up now, continued the charge. He was determined that this was do or die for him.
The fox saw that its bluff did not work. It turned tail just before Whiskers reached it. It wanted no part of a dog. It retreated with Whiskers hot on its tail.
When he decided that he had chased the fox far enough away, he returned to the kittens. After resting, he tugged at the bag again. This time it broke free.
He carried and dragged the kittens to a point near the houses. He set the bag down and went to the nearest house. Dogs barked, and the scent coming from the house told Whiskers that two dogs were here.
The next house had one dog. The scent from the third house, however, told whiskers that a cat resided there.
He retrieved the bag and brought it to the third house. He set the bag down on the back porch, barked, and scratched on the door. He barked again and a woman came to the door. She reminded Whiskers of Louise.
"What in the world did you bring here, boy?"
She stooped for a closer look. "Oh my…there's something alive in there. Good Heavens…it's kittens."
She picked up the bag and carried it inside where she used scissors to cut the knotted top to free the little kitties. She filled a saucer with warm milk and the kittens hungrily lapped it up.
Her husband entered the kitchen. "Where on Earth did you get the kittens?"
"You won't believe it but a little dog brought them to our back door. It appears someone tried to throw them away."
"Where's the dog?"
"Omigosh. The little fella is on the back porch. I'd better check on him."
She ran to the back porch to find him leaving her yard. She ran and scooped him up in her arms and brought him into the house.
"He looks like he's been starved, his ribs are showing. I'll get him something."
She gave him some leftover meatloaf from the refrigerator. He wagged his tail as he wolfed down the meal, and then drank water from the cat's bowl.
The husband picked up the phone. "The kittens and the dog need to be examined. I'll call the vet and set up an appointment for them."
He made the call and hung up. "The vet said that she can see them now if I get them in before 4:30."
He gathered Whiskers into his arms and carried him out to the car. He placed the little dog on the back seat, then returned to the house for the kittens. He put the kittens into the cat carrier and took them out to the car.
When he opened the door to place the carrier on the seat, Whiskers bounded out of the car. Before the man could react, the dog was out of the yard and heading through the brushy field toward the highway.
***
Chapter 12
The Vagabond
Whiskers resumed his much-interrupted journey. He kept to the grass on the side of the highway as he traveled to avoid the danger of being struck, and also to keep out of sight as much as possible.
The sun was setting when he came to another intersection. He rummaged through more trash and garbage until he found a half-eaten fish sandwich.
After finishing his meal, he went under a nearby overpass, where the interstate crossed a local road, to spend the night. He found that there were already two men there. One of them tried to shoo him off, but the other defended him.
"He's my dog, man, and he can stay here if he wants."
"I don't believe you, dude. You ain't got no dog."
"I have now. I just adopted him." He whistled softly. "C'mere boy. It's gonna get chilly and we can keep each other warm."
Whiskers went to the man and wagged his tail as the man pet him. "Hey, betcha we can be buddies. You're probably a vagabond like ol' Cholly." He chuckled. "Cholly, that's me. Your tag says Whiskers, but I'll just call you Buddy, OK?"
The other man spoke up. "OK, keep the damn dog. It's a free country, and I ain't one to cause trouble." His tone softened, and he laughed. "Vagabond? Ha. You're a stinkin' bum like me, beggin' change for coffee or a swig of wine." He laughed and held up a nearly empty wine bottle. "By the way, where ya headed?"
"N'Orleans is my next stop. I hear it's a sweet place. How about yourself?"
"California. Most anywhere in California, really. I kinda like L.A. though."
"Well, to each his own."
The other man took a last swig and tossed away the empty wine bottle, rolled over, and pulled a tattered woolen blanket over himself. In minutes, he was snoring.
Cholly picked up a guitar and strummed as he sang softly.
Green, green, it's green they say
On the far side of the hill
Green, green, I'm going away
To where the grass is greener still
Well I told my Momma on the day I was born
Don't you cry when you see I'm gone
You know there ain't no woman gonna settle me down
I just got to keep traveling on
There ain't no woman in this whole wide world
Gonna tell me how to spend my time
I'm just a good loving rambling man
Singing, buddy, can you spare me a dime
I don't care when the sun goes down
Where I lay my weary head
Green, green valley or rocky road
It's there I'm gonna lay my head
On the far side of the hill
Green, green, I'm going away
To where the grass is greener still
Well I told my Momma on the day I was born
Don't you cry when you see I'm gone
You know there ain't no woman gonna settle me down
I just got to keep traveling on
There ain't no woman in this whole wide world
Gonna tell me how to spend my time
I'm just a good loving rambling man
Singing, buddy, can you spare me a dime
I don't care when the sun goes down
Where I lay my weary head
Green, green valley or rocky road
It's there I'm gonna lay my head
Morning came and the other man was gone. Cholly went to the diner and brought back coffee and sandwiches, which he shared with Whiskers. He also shared some water that he had in a canteen.
Cholly strapped on his backpack, guitar, and the two set out.
"It's gonna be a little harder to hitch a ride with you tagging along. But you know what? I don't care, cause I enjoy your company."
As they sauntered along, Cholly continued talking to his new found friend.
"You're a whole lot better company than most folks, Buddy. Know what? I used to have a wife and some friends, but one of my friends ran off with my wife. Good riddance. Can't blame her though. I'm not an ideal husband, always been a vagabond at heart. Just like in the song, "Ain't no woman gonna tell me how to spend my time."
They walked a short distance, but kept close to the intersection.
"We gotta stay where we can get off the interstate in case the cops spot us. Ain't supposed to hitchhike on interstates." He laughed. "If the cops spot us, we can walk down the ramp and tell 'em we're just leaving."
A pickup truck stopped with two teens in the front seat.
"We're going about thirty miles before we leave I-10. You and the dog can hop in the back if you want."
"Thanks." Cholly picked up Whiskers and put him in the truck, then hopped in himself.
Chapter 13
Attempted robbery
The next two rides were for short hops, but a truck driver hauling produce carried them for almost two hundred miles. Cholly rewarded him by singing and strumming his guitar.
In between rides they would hike, and Cholly would talk to him. Although he did not understand what Cholly was saying, he felt comfortable with the almost constant chatter.
"Ya know what, Buddy? That dude we shared the underpass with last night was completely wrong about me. I don't bum, cause I don't have to. When my former wife divorced me, I had a pretty good bank account.
"I also had a plumbing business that I sold for a goodly amount. She didn't get a penny cause she ran off with another dude. Good thing we had no kids.
"I don't have to do this, Buddy boy, it's just something I always dreamed about. I got a check book and a credit card in my back pack, and I keep some cash there too. We ain't gonna starve.
"And ya now what, Buddy? I think I'm actually getting more rides with you tagging along. I s'pose people figure a dude with a dog is more apt to be honest."
By riding and hiking, Whiskers and his new found friend traveled nearly three hundred miles. They kept to the interstate when they could, but got chased off a couple of times. The little dog sensed he was getting nearer to home with each ride.
They reached an intersection that was apparently near a town. There were several gas stations, restaurants, and other buildings on each side of the interstate. It was getting dark, and Cholly looked for a place to bed down. One of the gas stations had a couple of sheltered picnic tables in the back.
No one was there, so Cholly chose one of the tables and spread his blanket on it.
"That'll make a nice bed. You wait here, Buddy, and I'll go get us something to eat." Whiskers lay down under the table and waited. Minutes later, he heard a noise, and saw another man coming. The intruder was a big man, and he reminded Whiskers of the huge beast he had encountered a few days earlier.
He stood up and growled low in his throat, but the man ignored him and chose the other table. Whiskers laid back down, but kept a wary eye on the intruder.
Presently Cholly came back. He and the man greeted each other.
"Care for a cheeseburger, man? I got an extra one here."
The man accepted, and after some small talk the two men--and Whiskers--ate quietly. They then bedded down for the night, each man lying on a table and Whiskers under the table.
***
Whiskers awakened to a noise. It was a barely detectable noise, but the keen ears of Whiskers picked it up. He looked to see the big man picking up Cholly's backpack.
He started growling and barking furiously. The man grabbed the backpack and started running. Cholly, now awake, jumped up and pursued the man. He caught the man halfway up an embankment leading up to the highway and tackled him.
The man went down, and as he lay on his back, he kicked out with his foot and caught Cholly in the pit of the stomach. Cholly tumbled down the embankment as the thief kept going. Whiskers caught the man's ankle between his small jaws. Even a small dog can have a powerful bite, and the man yelped with pain as Whiskers clamped down. But he kicked his foot shaking the small dog loose, and Whiskers followed Cholly down the embankment.
Cholly ran back up the embankment with Whiskers following. He looked up and down the highway, but the thief was nowhere in sight. There were groups of buildings on both sides of the highway, with wooded areas beyond the buildings.
"He moves pretty fast for a fat man," mused Cholly, "and besides he's carrying my back pack. But there are just too many places here for him to hide."
But the keen nose of Whiskers picked up the man's scent. He set out for the north side of the highway with Cholly following. Snuffling and sniffing the ground, occasionally stopping to sniff the air, Whiskers moved on. He moved through a group of buildings and continued on into a wooded area.
Whiskers didn't have the keen sense of smell of a hound, but all dogs have a sense of smell Far superior to humans. At times the trail would go cold, and Whiskers would seemingly go round in circles trying to pick up the scent.
Each time Whiskers lost the scent, Cholly would get discouraged.
"C'mon Buddy boy, we gotta hurry. That dude's getting farther away all the time."
But Whiskers did not give up. After losing the scent a few times, he finally picked up a fresh, strong scent. The scent of the big man's sweat told Whiskers the man was tiring.
Abruptly he stopped and growled. The man was trying to crawl under some underbrush. Whiskers went after the man, and once again grabbed the thief's ankle. The man cursed and jumped up. As he did Cholly attacked, his arms pumping and pummeling the man with his fists.
Cholly was smaller than the thief, and there wasn't much weight behind his blows, but he was wiry and quick, and his arms were moving like windmills.
The thief was trying to defend himself from the flurry of blows by Cholly, but the painful bites on his lower legs were too distracting. As the man leaned down in an attempt to grab Whiskers, Cholly brought his knee hard up into the big man's face, so hard that the impact rattled Cholly's teeth. At the same time he used both hands to chop him behind his neck. The man crumpled.
Cholly called Whiskers off the thief. As Cholly picked up his backpack, the thief groaned. "My nose…it's broke…it's bleeding."
"Oh, you poor man," said Cholly. "Want me to call 911?"
The man cursed him.
***
After going back to the picnic table, Cholly checked the contents of his backpack and found nothing missing.
"Ya know what, Buddy? If that dude had asked me for a few bucks I would've given it to him. Most of the men I meet on the road ain't like that. They're not above stealing, but they won't steal from each other." He laughed. "Most don't have anything to steal, anyway.
"That dude saw I was dressed a little better than the average man you see on the road. He saw my guitar, knew I had money to buy sandwiches, and probably figured I probably had a few things worth stealing."
It was almost dawn, so Cholly and Whiskers set out again.
That day they made another three hundred miles. The following day they were in luck. After spending the night under a bridge, Cholly went into a diner to get breakfast for himself and Whiskers.
A paunchy middle-aged man in the diner struck up a conversation with him. The man, it seems, had spent time on the road himself.
"Done a lot of hitchhiking in my youth. I loved the open road in those days. I've learned a lot about men, and I can tell you're not on the bum. Where ya headed?"
"N'Orleans."
"Hey, I'm going as far as Baton Rouge. You're welcome to ride with me."
"Thanks, but you should know I'm traveling with a dog."
"No problem, I love dogs. Load him in the back seat and we'll be on our way."
Chapter 14
Parting of ways
After the man dropped them off, they hiked for a few miles until arriving at the US61 cutoff. Cholly turned south and walked down the ramp leading to US61, which went straight to New Orleans. Cholly walked a couple of minutes, then noticed that his traveling companion was not following.
He looked back to see his little friend just sitting there, looking at him. He walked back a short way, and called to him.
"C'mon Buddy, what are you waiting for?"
Whiskers walked a short way toward the east, stopped, barked, then took a few more steps east.
"Well I'll be…you want me to keep going east, don't you? I don't think you're a vagabond after all, but you're on your way somewhere. Much as I love your companionship, my little pal, we're gonna have to part company here."
He walked back up the ramp to the interstate and called to the little dog. Whiskers came back to him, and Cholly kneeled down. He stroked Whiskers and patted his head.
"So long, little pal."
Cholly turned and headed south. Whiskers watched him for a few moments, then headed east.
Whiskers wanted to follow Cholly, but his home still called to him.
Chapter 14
Homeward bound
Whiskers was now streetwise in the ways of the stray dog. He was a survivor. He knew how to avoid traffic. He knew how to avoid the authorities. He avoided unfriendly dogs and wild animals. He knew where to find food and water. He knew where to find shelter.
He knew to avoid wild areas with predators, and kept near to the main highways as he moved. He would rummage through trash bins and garbage cans for discarded food. He would always search through the trash and garbage at night, so as to avoid hostile people.
He found water from streams under bridges and from rain puddles. He slept under overpasses, under bridges, and in rest areas.
There were no more rides since leaving Baton Rouge; it was all on foot now. Whiskers moved with determination, for he knew that he was nearing home, getting nearer with each step. He kept up a steady pace, stopping only for food, sleep, and to relieve himself.
***
Whiskers faintly remembered a previous homecoming , a homecoming when there was no one to greet him--only an empty house. His family had deserted him.
He began to experience a vague feeling of trepidation as he neared home.
He came to the familiar highway which intersected with the interstate he was now traveling. He followed the ramp down to the highway and turned south. He was now in familiar territory.
He passed the little diner with its familiar smells, and right after the diner he turned right on his rural road. He was weary and footsore, almost to the point of collapsing. But his spirits were high now, and he picked up his pace.
***
Louise was cooking supper. Stan had fallen asleep in his recliner while watching TV. Louise heard something that sounded like a bark. The TV was playing, and she wasn't sure if the bark came from the TV or not.She stopped what she was doing for a moment and listened, but hearing nothing she went back to her cooking. Then she heard the bark again, this time louder--and it was a familiar bark.
She was hoping against hope. "Please, please, let it be him." She cut the TV and heard the bark again, this time accompanied by scratching on the door.
She ran past the sleeping Stan to the door. She opened it...and screeched with joy.
"Stan," she yelled. "Stan! Wake up. It's Whiskers--he's come home."
She was crying and tears of joy were streaming down her cheeks.
"He's home."
The end
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