Waggit Again

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Authors: Peter Howe

BOOK: Waggit Again
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Peter Howe
Waggit Again

Drawings by

Omar Rayyan

 

This book is dedicated to working dogs everywhere
and especially to the memory of my wonderful
therapy dog Bobby Blue, who brought so much joy
to so many children in distress.

Table of Contents

1
  Waggit's Escape

2
  An Unusual Upright

3
  Travel Plans

4
  Getting Acquainted

5
  The Journey Begins

6
  The Rescue of the Cowardly Pit Bull

7
  Lug Tags Along

8
  Freight Train to Nowhere

9
  Truckers and the Big Rigs

10
  Hitching a Ride

11
  Trapped by Fear

12
  Narrow Escape

13
  Home at Last

14
  Team Contact

15
  Welcomed Back

16
  Felicia's Feast

17
  Lowdown's Hideaway

18
  Olang's Challenge

19
  Home Improvement

20
  Tashi's New Team

21
  Treachery at Silver Tree Bend

22
  Triumph and Tragedy

23
  Chance Meeting

24
  The Mystery Solved

25
  A Friend's Good-bye

26
  Puppies in Distress

27
  Waggit Makes Amends

1
Waggit's Escape

E
ven though he was wearing his leather collar Waggit could still feel the chain biting into his neck as he pulled on it. It hurt to move the links backward and forward over the sharp edge of the rock, but he could bear the pain; what he couldn't tolerate was staying one more day on this farm. So he had done the same thing every night for weeks, ever since the farmer staked him out in the backyard after his fight with the dog called Hodge. The chain was old and rusty, but so far it had resisted his best efforts to snap it.

Maybe tonight, he thought. Maybe it will break tonight.

The night was moonless and very dark, and his escape would be that much easier if he broke free now. He continued to pace back and forth, keeping the chain taut, his head held down, listening to the grinding noise of the metal as it chafed against the rock. The task was made more difficult by the need for silence. The other dogs slept unshackled only a few feet away, and any of them, Hodge in particular, would have raised the alarm if they heard his attempts to break free.

Hodge was the leader of the farmyard dogs. His name was short for Hodgepodge, and he was a tough, lumbering creature who looked as if he had been made out of the parts left over from other dogs. When Waggit and his owner had arrived at the farm after a long drive, she had let him loose in the yard. He had been pleased to see other dogs and had run up to them eagerly. To his surprise they all cowered as he came near. He was just about to explain that he only wanted to say hello when he heard a growl behind him. He turned to see Hodge, his teeth bared and his hackles up.

“Well, what do we have here?” the tough dog said with contempt. “Is this a city dog I see? Have you come
here to teach us all your fancy city ways?”

“No,” said Waggit, not sure why the dog was being so aggressive. “I only wanted to say hi. I'm just visiting. My owner's going to take me back home in a minute.”

“Well,” said Hodge, “you'd better hope she does, 'cause we've got some country ways
we
can teach
you
, and they all involve pain.”

But as it turned out, Waggit's owner didn't take him back. She had driven off, and although at first he had confidently waited for her to return and take him to the city, his optimism had drained away as many days passed and still there was no sign of her. He became resigned to life in the yard, keeping to himself, which wasn't hard to do. If any of the other dogs approached him or tried to be friendly, Hodge snarled at them and told them to leave the “city boy” alone.

This went on until Waggit could stand it no longer. The farmer fed the dogs once a day, putting down battered metal bowls that contained mostly table scraps. Hodge would frequently wolf down his own food and then shove another dog out of the way and take his or her meal as well. He had never tried it with Waggit until one day.

Waggit was about to put his nose into his bowl when he was knocked sideways by Hodge's shoulder.

“Leave it,” Waggit barked as the bully was about to empty the bowl of its contents.

“Oh my, a tough guy,” Hodge sneered. “And we were all of us just saying what a scaredy-cat you seem to be.”

Now, you can call a dog any number of nasty things and they will roll right off his back, but only the most timid of dogs would tolerate being called a scaredy-cat—and Waggit was far from timid. Hodge didn't realize that even though Waggit was still young, he hadn't always been the spoiled pet the country dog mistook him for. Parts of Waggit's short life had been very hard indeed, and although not a fighter by nature, he could only be pushed so far.

Waggit leapt at Hodge without warning, taking the other dog by surprise and putting him on his back. Hodge quickly recovered and went on the attack. But if he was much stronger, Waggit was much quicker, and he would dart in and nip the bigger dog and then retreat. As his opponent lumbered toward him he continued his hit-and-run tactics, driving the bigger dog wild. How this would have ended nobody will ever
know, because the noise that the other dogs made as they watched—plus the angry growls of Hodge as he grew more and more frustrated—attracted the farmer's attention, and the next thing Waggit knew he was chained up. The farmer didn't care who was right and who was wrong; he simply needed peace in the farmyard.

Waggit was happy to oblige the man by removing himself completely. And so he moved backward and forward, backward and forward, knowing that every scrape of metal against stone brought him a little closer to freedom. His neck ached with the effort, but still the link wouldn't give. He took a short break and noticed that the sky was beginning to get a little lighter. Dawn was coming. The thought of another day on the farm so panicked him that he pulled against the chain with all his might. Suddenly there was a ping and he fell backward. The chain had broken! Unfortunately as it snapped it snaked back across the yard and hit the sleeping Hodge squarely on the nose. He yelped and sat up, instantly awake.

Hodge immediately understood what was happening and raced across the yard barking, causing all the other dogs to bark as well. The area was completely
fenced in, but Waggit had already planned how he was going to get out; now he had to do it as quickly as possible. He had one handicap, however. Although he was free of most of the chain, about two feet of it still hung around his neck. Picking the trailing end up in his mouth, he sprinted to the corner of the yard where bags of fertilizer were stacked on wooden pallets and leapt from a run onto the top of the stack. Although the chain wasn't heavy, it was cumbersome, and he barely made it, digging his claws into the plastic sacks, his heart in his mouth along with the chain.

He paused for breath while Hodge and two of the other dogs barked ferociously at the foot of the pile, leaping up, desperately trying to get to him but lacking the agility to do so. Waggit saw a light go on in the farmer's bedroom and knew that he didn't have much time. The jump over the fence was not a problem, not more than a couple of feet. It was the drop to the ground on the other side that was intimidating, for there was nothing to break his fall. He worried that the chain might get caught on the fence as he went over it, leaving him hanging by the neck.

In the end he had no alternative but to jump, sailing over the fence as if he were flying until gravity took
over and brought him crashing to the ground. Pain shot through his legs and the wind left his body as he hit the hard earth. When he got his breath back he scrambled to his feet, shook himself, checked that he was okay, and then ran as fast as he could, leaving the three dogs clawing at the fence, snarling and cursing at him. The last thing he heard from the farmyard was the voice of the farmer yelling, “Be quiet, you dogs. What's going on?”

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