“We don’t have his ball,” Bruno growled. “Lucky made us leave the longpaw things behind.” He sounded angry, but Lucky could not scent any real rage coming from him. The stocky dog was just covering his deep sorrow.

Lucky felt an itch of guilt, but he didn’t want to scratch it away. It had been the right thing to do, but now it was feeling wrong. “Earth-Dog will take good care of him,” he insisted, but there was a catch in his voice. It sounded like an empty promise, even to his own ears.

Martha picked Alfie up in her jaws, moving slowly and carefully—even though there was no way Alfie would feel pain now. Despite her bad leg, he wasn’t much of a burden for her. As she laid his limp body carefully in the hole, the others helped to scrape and kick the earth back over him, until he was hidden from sight for the last time. All the dogs paused and gazed at his final sleeping-place, lit by the dying glow of the sinking sun.

“It feels wrong to leave him,” whimpered Daisy.

“I know what you mean,” said Lucky. To his surprise, he really did.

“Why don’t we stay here, then?” suggested Bella. “Just until the Sun-Dog returns.”

“What if those terrible dogs come back?” asked Sunshine as she pawed gently at the mound of soil above Alfie.

Lucky shook his head. “They ran from the Growl, too. I think we should stay with Alfie.”

“I like that idea,” said Mickey quietly. “We’ll guard his body during no-sun. Our way of saying good-bye.”

Lucky nodded, an odd heaviness in his throat.

“It feels right,” said Sunshine, glancing up at the bigger dogs. “Doesn’t it?”

Mickey licked her neck fondly, before scratching at the ground with his claws three times. Then he touched it with his nose. “Earth-Dog,” he whined. “Look after our friend.” He turned his muzzle to the sky and began to howl.

The sound was eerie and heartrending, and Lucky felt a tremor run through his skin. Then the others began to join in, raising their heads and howling.

“Take care of Alfie, Earth-Dog!”

“Guard him for us!”

“Keep his spirit safe!”

Lucky watched in respectful silence. This was something he had never witnessed, and did not quite understand. Maybe it had never happened before. Maybe it was another way that dogs were changing along with the whole world.

The sky was darkening fast, and Alfie’s sad little burial mound was fading into shadow, but still the mournful howling went on. It was the strangest ritual Lucky had ever seen, but he had to admit that it made him feel a little better. He was sure Bella and the others must feel that way too, however sad they were. There was something comforting about passing Alfie formally into Earth-Dog’s paws for protection.

Lucky trod his habitual sleep circle, then lay down with his muzzle on his paws. He closed his eyes. The howling was almost soothing. . . .