“Didn’t take you for the sentimental sort, Bob.”

“I’m not. Just, you know how it is.”

“No, actually, I don’t know. I’m a wild animal. Not a pet.”

“Still.” I clear my throat and remind myself that rolling over and peeing myself is not an acceptable option. “Still and all, he’s scrawny, might even be dead, who knows? You got better breakfasts at the park.”

I recognize all too well the look he gives me. The look of sadness and loss and anger, the look of someone who will never forgive the world.

He’s running with the puppy dangling from his jaws before I even know what’s happened.

how

I don’t know how I do it.

If I did know, maybe I could understand that other part of me. The wolf part.

I run, faster than I’ve ever run.

I growl, louder than I’ve ever growled.

I grab Kimu’s throat. I clamp down.

I do not let go.

gone

He can kill me. With a sidelong glance and a half-hearted bite, he can kill me.

I know that.

But he doesn’t.

He drops the puppy.

He shakes me off and pulls free.

He pauses. Looks at me like he’s seeing me for the first time.

He gazes at the sky, thick with clouds. No moon. Barely any sun.

He raises his head.

His howl is long and sad and beautiful.

He runs.

first aid

Rowdy still isn’t moving.

I don’t know what else to do.

So I bite the heck outa his tail.

Perks the little guy right up.

the truth

It hits me then. I’m so tired. So banged up. I can’t go on, even if I want to.

I carry Rowdy to a sheltering tree. Cuddle him close. Give him a couple licks for good measure.

“Now what?” he asks.

“Now,” I say, “we wait.”

“For what?”

“For humans,” I answer. “For help.”

“Are you sure they’ll come?”

I think for a moment.

I remember all the people I’ve seen today, the police and rescue workers, the park employees, the staff at the shelter, the folks at the doughnut shop opening their door to a strange collection of animals. I remember George running to get Julia, and Julia trying to get me, and Sara struggling to find them both.

I breathe in the sweet smell of puppy. It’s important to tell the truth.

“I’m sure,” I say.

forever

The eye of the hurricane passes. The storm rages on.

It feels like a year. Like nine years, even.

It feels like forever.

rescue

When I hear Julia calling my name through the open window of her parents’ car, I pick up Rowdy and dash over like it’s my favorite place on this lonely ball called Earth.

No clickers necessary.

No treats required.

I fly my drool flag all the way home.

Four

aftermath