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Authors: Peter Howe

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“Mommy Magica, wake up,” he insisted.

There was still no response from her.

“Please, Mommy Magica, please wake up.” The puppy was getting frantic, and his panic alerted the other dogs in the tunnel. He started to lick her face in an attempt to get a response but got nothing.

Then one eye opened, followed by the other. Magica lifted her head slowly and smiled at him.

“Why, little one, what's the matter?” she said in a soft voice.

“I'm Little Two,” said the puppy, “and I couldn't get you to wake up.”

“Well, you see, I wasn't feeling too good, not quite myself,” she said, “but I'm better now.”

She got up, shook herself, and licked the puppy back for good measure. A feeling of relief swept through the tunnel. All the other dogs crowded around her, asking if she was really all right, telling her not to tire herself, and offering her pieces of ice for refreshment. All the other dogs, that is, except Gordo, who was still feeling far from well himself, and furthermore was not sure how Magica would treat him, knowing it was his foolishness that had put her through such misery. She spotted him through the crowd that surrounded her and went over to where he lay.

“Gordo,” she said affectionately, “get up on those big paws of yours. What're you doing lying there on a beautiful day like today?”

To Gordo it was possibly the most beautiful day of his life. Knowing she had forgiven him brought a lump to his throat.

“I'm still not feeling too good myself,” he said when the lump had gone away enough for him to speak.

“Well,” said Magica, with a twinkle in her eye, “you must watch what you eat. You never know what you might pick up.”

And that was the last thing she ever said on the subject.

It wasn't, however, the last thing that Tazar said. When the others had left the tunnel and he was alone with Gordo, he turned to him with a serious look on his face.

“Don't ever put us through something like that again,” he said. “We nearly lost her, you know.”

“I never wanted to do her no harm,” protested Gordo. “I was just worried she wasn't getting enough to eat.”

“We often do the most harm when we least intend it,” said Tazar, “but there was something else though,
wasn't there? You wanted to be a hero, the great hunter, to look good in front of her.”

Gordo hung his head and didn't answer.

“I know how that feels,” Tazar continued, “how nice it is to impress, to feel good about yourself. But you have to be true to yourself as well, and you weren't. You're not a hunter, and you know it. You're too big and too slow, and there's nothing wrong with that; it's just the way you were made. Some are born hunters and some are not, and you, my friend, are definitely one of the nots. Magica doesn't love you because you're a hunter; she's a better hunter than you anyway. She loves you because you're you.” He paused. “As do we all, you big lug.”

“I know it, Tazar,” said Gordo dejectedly. “I know all that you just said.”

“See, the reason I can say this to you,” the leader went on, “is that I'm not much of a hunter myself. That's why I send other brothers and sisters out to do it for me, because they do it better. I do other things they can't.”

By this time Gordo was feeling thoroughly sorry for himself.

“I don't think there's anything I do that's better than anyone else. I don't contribute.”

“You frighten dogs better than anyone else, dogs who don't know you, that is,” said Tazar. “Nobody will mess with you or with the team while you're around, and when it gets down to it you're a good fighter, even though you don't like it. This realm's safer with you in it.”

“You think so?” asked Gordo.

“I do.”

“Well, I suppose.” Gordo was obviously pleased.

“So here's the deal,” said Tazar. “We'll hunt it, and you eat it. How's that sound?”

“I think it's a deal I can live with,” said Gordo with a smile.

And that was the last time anyone said anything on the subject.

12
Tazar's Secret

L
ife in the park was improving. The weather slowly got warmer, which made everything much easier. Not only was getting around less dangerous for the dogs, but Waggit and Lowdown also discovered on one of their foraging trips that holes had begun to appear in the ice on the Bigwater. Now they were able to drink real water again instead of chewing on icicles. Magica and Gordo were back to full health, and it seemed that the only lasting effect of their recent poisoning was to make Gordo take his new position of team security
chief a bit too seriously. He was overprotective and cautious with everyone, especially Magica, even bossy on occasion. Except for Gruff, they all tolerated this good naturedly, knowing that it was just a matter of time before he forgot what he was supposed to do, and once again became the lovable bumbler that they were used to.

One morning Waggit was lying in front of the tunnel, watching Little One and Little Two play. He could see from their games that they were learning to hunt. This was the serious side to the puppies' fun, one upon which their survival would depend. He also realized how much he had changed since that fateful night when he first met Tazar. Up to that moment he had led a sheltered and protected life, something that these two puppies would never know, but which they would never miss.

Lowdown joined him and lay down by his side. Waggit hated to see how hard it was becoming for his friend to do this. Lowdown's joints were feeling the effects of aging and lack of medical care that came with the life of a park dog, but he rarely let his aches and pains affect his genial disposition.

“Look at those little devils,” Lowdown said affec
tionately. “Don't it seem just like yesterday that you was doing the same thing yourself?” He paused and looked at Waggit. “Well, of course for
you
it
was
yesterday.”

Waggit smiled. “I guess it was, but it feels like a lot longer ago than that.”

“Yeah, you grow up quick around here,” said Lowdown. “Come to think of it, you grow old quick too.”

“You're not growing old,” said Waggit, playfully nudging his friend with his nose. “You're just getting grumpier. Pretty soon you and Gruff will be agreeing with each other.”

“Oh Dear Vinda!” Lowdown laughed. “If that ever happens, put me out of my misery—please!”

Just then Tazar appeared. He nodded to them as he passed.

“I'll see you guys later,” he said, and then trotted off into the woods.

“I wonder where he goes every day,” said Waggit.

“I doubt we'll ever know,” said Lowdown.

A sudden thought occurred to Waggit.

“Why not?” he said. “Why shouldn't we know? What if I follow him and find out?”

“You'd never make it,” said Lowdown. “Tazar's too smart to let himself be followed. He'd know you was there before you got to the Deepwoods.”

“Hey,” Waggit protested, “remember who you're talking about. It's me—the best hunter on the team. Think of all the things I've tracked without them knowing. I'm going to give it a try.”

“All right,” said Lowdown. “I'd tell you Tazar won't like it—but it don't matter, since he'll sniff you out faster than you sniff out a scurry.”

Waggit started out in the direction that Tazar had headed and soon picked up his scent. The wind was blowing from the Deepwoods End, which not only made it easier to track Tazar, but also meant that he would be unlikely to smell Waggit if the younger dog followed far enough behind.

Within moments Waggit saw the big black dog loping casually along a wooded path. Every so often he paused to sniff at a tree or a patch of grass. He seemed unaware of Waggit's presence, and on occasion stopped to talk with a loner. If he knew he was being followed he gave no indication of it but kept going farther into the deepest and most wooded part of the park.

Tazar suddenly became more wary, quickening his stride, and looking over his shoulder, zigzagging from side to side, trying to break the scent trail that all dogs leave. He suddenly stopped and looked around him in a full circle. Fortunately Waggit knew his leader's body language quite well by now and was able to anticipate many of his movements. This allowed him just enough time to hide behind a large maple tree. He waited a few moments before looking around it. When he did, to his surprise Tazar had gone—he had simply disappeared.

Very carefully Waggit started to scout the area, doing exactly what he would if he'd lost sight of his prey on a hunt. Backward and forward he went, moving low to the ground, his nose twitching as he tried to pick up the scent again. He would get tantalizing whiffs of it and then it would vanish, so he knew Tazar was still in the area. Waggit had moved into a clump of trees when something caught his attention. He dropped to the ground and very carefully lifted his head.

Not far from him, in a bowl made from the roots of a large oak tree, were Tazar and a pretty female dog. They seemed to be hiding something that Waggit
couldn't see. He moved very slowly and carefully to get a better view. There, nestled against the female's body, were two puppies, neither of them more than a few days old. Both Tazar and the female seemed absorbed in watching the litter, when suddenly Tazar lifted his head and sniffed the air. Waggit froze; he realized in a flash that in moving around to get a better view he was now upwind of the black dog, who had picked up his scent.

“Waggit,” barked Tazar, “come on out. I know you're there.”

Waggit lay still, his heart pounding. There would be a price to pay for this. Maybe he could get away without being seen and then deny that he had ever been in this part of the woods. He edged around the side of the trees that were protecting him. Lying flat to the ground he gingerly moved forward, but once again his tail gave him away. Wagging furiously because he was so nervous, it stood up above the low bushes that were hiding his body, and couldn't have been more noticeable had a flag been tied to it.

“Waggit,” came Tazar's booming voice, “if there's one tail in this world that I would recognize anywhere, it's yours. No use hiding; I know you're there.”

Sheepishly, if that's possible for a dog, Waggit stood up and walked toward the leader. As he got closer his head got lower and his ears flatter. Tazar looked at him sternly.

“Waggit, how'd you find me here?” he asked.

“I tracked you,” said Waggit in a low voice.

“You did what?” Tazar was incredulous.

“Tracked you,” replied a very miserable Waggit.

“All the way from camp?”

“Yeah.” Waggit's voice was barely a whisper by now.

“Brother, you are one good tracker,” said Tazar in a mixture of disbelief and admiration. “I never suspected you were there for one moment, and I always know when I'm being tracked. At least I thought I did.”

“If I was that good a tracker we wouldn't be having this talk now,” said Waggit, “'cause I would've been out of here.”

“Yes,” agreed Tazar, “that's the trouble with mistakes. You make just one and all the good stuff's gone. But still you tracked me all this way, and that's impressive.”

Waggit began to realize that Tazar wasn't angry at being followed, but was quite proud of the fact that the young dog had managed to do it.

“So why did you want to follow me in the first place?” Tazar inquired.

“Well,” said Waggit, “you've been spending so much time away from the team lately, and I was just curious about what you did.”

“What did you think I was doing?” asked Tazar.

“Lowdown, Cal, and Raz said you were getting intelligence about the park, and that's why you know what's gonna happen before it does. Gruff said it was because you needed to get away from us all from time to time, as he would if he wasn't feelin' so poorly.”

“And you, Waggit?” asked Tazar. “What did
you
think?”

“I didn't know,” said Waggit. “That's why I was curious.”

Tazar said nothing but just stood and looked at Waggit. The younger dog could feel no hostility coming from him, in fact quite the opposite. He felt Tazar's warmth, a fondness for him like a father feels toward a gifted son.

“Come here,” Tazar eventually said. “I want you to meet someone.”

He led Waggit to the bowl at the foot of the tree where the female dog and her puppies lay. The female
looked up as they approached, and you could see that she was very shy, even shier than Alona.

“Waggit, I'd like you to meet Solosa,” said Tazar.

“Very pleased to meet you,” said Waggit politely.

The female dog said nothing but kept her eyes fixed on Tazar.

“She's my mate,” he said, “and these are my”—he corrected himself—“our puppies.”

Waggit looked from Tazar to Solosa and to the little bundles of fur that lay happily next to their mother. It was a lot of information to take in all at once.

“So now you see why I've been spending so much time away from the team,” said Tazar. “I've got other responsibilities now.”

“Does that mean you're leaving us?” asked Waggit—somewhat selfishly maybe, but that had been his biggest fear all along.

“Leave you?” said Tazar. “Why would I leave my team? Of course I won't leave you. You're my family just as much as these little ones and this beautiful dog.”

Solosa really was beautiful; there was no denying that.

“Why doesn't she come and join the team?” asked Waggit.

“Solosa was born in the park. She's been a loner all her life. No way could she become a team dog now. We've agreed that when the little ones are old enough they'll come to the team, but it'll be a few risings before that happens,” Tazar replied.

“Why didn't you tell us about her and about the puppies?” asked Waggit.

“What was the first thing you said when you found out? You said, ‘Are you leaving us?' The rest of the team would have had exactly the same response,” Tazar replied. “And not everyone would have believed me when I said that there was no way I would leave you all.”

He paused for a moment.

“In fact, little brother,” he continued, “it's probably best if they still don't know until the puppies are big enough to join us; so you and I have a secret to keep.”

Waggit didn't know how he felt about this. His initial reaction was pride at sharing something so important with the leader, something that nobody else knew. But then he realized that keeping it secret would mean not being entirely honest with Lowdown and the others. This made him very uncomfortable, for Lowdown and he had no secrets, and that was what made them so close.

Tazar could see all this in Waggit's face.

“You know,” he said, “the job of a leader is to keep the team safe, provided for, and happy, and sometimes what they don't know is more important to their happiness than what they do. Now I don't lie to the team—never have and never will—but there are times when it's best not to tell everyone everything, and this is one of them. So you've got to keep it a secret—just for now.”

Waggit thought for a bit and then made up his mind.

“Okay,” he said, “I can do that.”

He looked around the area where Solosa and the puppies lived. In many ways the Deepwoods End was the prettiest part of the park, because it was the wildest. Few humans ever came here, even in the summer when there were streams running and birds singing. It was as if the city, with its noise and smells and traffic, was another world away.

“Why don't you want to live here with them?” he asked Tazar.

“Well, you know, sometimes it seems like a wonderful idea,” the black dog replied, “but in my heart of hearts I know it wouldn't work. I've been a team dog
as long as I've been in the park, same as Solosa's always been a loner. We live different lives because we've got different natures. I love the team. I love waking up in the morning and knowing everyone's around. I love laughing with them and caring for them when they're sick or upset. I love calming them down, or jazzing them up. To me, being a team dog is a bigger life than being a loner, but Solosa doesn't see it that way. It's just the way you are, I guess, just what you're used to. In the end you have to stay true to your nature.”

Waggit remained with the two dogs and their puppies for a little while longer. The puppies were still too young to play, and although they were cute, he didn't find them very interesting. Tazar and Solosa seemed to want to be together, so he said his good-byes and headed back toward the Risingside. As he walked back along the paths that led to his home he thought about what Tazar had said, and wondered what his own true nature was.

The first dog he met when he got back to the tunnel was Lowdown. He looked up and laughed his wheezing laugh.

“Did he sniff you out?” he asked. “I bet he did. He sniffed you out, didn't he?”

“Yeah,” admitted Waggit, “he sniffed me out.”

“I knew he would,” said the delighted Lowdown. “That Tazar, he's so smart, ain't no dog could track him down without him knowing it, not even you, and you're good.”

It was true that Tazar had picked up his scent when he moved upwind to see better, so Waggit felt he hadn't lied to his friend. It was like Tazar had said, there are occasions when it's best not to tell everyone everything.

BOOK: Waggit's Tale
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