The Return by Dayna Lorentz Page A

few heartbeats to slurp some water and otherwise get ready to hit the trail.
    Oscar crept up to Shep’s flank, trembling. “Did my family leave me because they saw I was a bad dog?” he whimpered. “Do you think they knew?”
    Shep could not have felt like a bigger pile of scat.
    He lay down beside the pup and let his ears flap loose. “No, Oscar,” he snuffled. “I think your family loves you. Listen to Callie’s woofs. Just believe that they love you.”
    â€œYou don’t.” Oscar looked at his paws.
    â€œI want to believe,” he answered truthfully. He wished he could believe that his boy loved him, that the Great Wolf still watched over him, that his pack still saw him as an alpha — he desperately wanted back his faith in everything .
    Oscar snuggled against Shep’s fur. “Do you think the pack will ever forgive me?” he yipped. “Can I ever be a good dog again?”
    Shep recalled asking Callie the same thing so many suns ago, after he told her about what happened to YipYowl. “Once, pup, I did something bad — I was scared and angry and I did something I couldn’t forgive myself for. Callie told me that it wasn’t about whether I was a good dog or a bad dog. She said I just had to keep trying to be a good dog.”
    â€œLike the Great Wolf,” Oscar yipped.
    Shep licked the pup’s head. “Yeah,” he woofed. “Just like the Great Wolf.”
    Daisy came over to where they stood. “Is the pup bothering you?” she growled.
    Oscar glanced up at Daisy’s muzzle. Her wrinkles had twisted into an angry scowl. The pup yelped and slunk away toward his and Zeus’s nest.
    â€œYou shouldn’t be so hard on him,” Shep woofed.
    â€œIf I’d been harder on him,” Daisy grumbled, “maybe he wouldn’t have turned out to be such a fur-brain.”
    â€œYou do recall that he’s a part of your family?” Shep yipped. “If you go home, you’re going with him.”
    Daisy waved her tail. “Don’t — snort — remind me.” She licked her nose. “If I had any faith in your planning skills, Alpha, I’d stay with you.” She strutted off toward the stream, yapping at Boji about scent trails.
    As she left, Fuzz crept out of the shadows, his snout stuffed with dead insects. He spat them into the dirt at Shep’s paws.
    â€œWhile Shep-dog give pack sad-tail, Fuzz hunt up travel-food,” he meow-barked.
    Shep glared at Daisy’s retreating rump. “You think I’m a good alpha, don’t you, Fuzz?” he grunted.
    Fuzz didn’t even blink. “Shep-dog try. Rarely succeed. But nose on right scent.”
    Shep stifled a growl, then sighed. At least the cat’s honest. “I just don’t understand the rush to go home,” he woofed. “Why don’t my friends feel what I feel?”
    The cat considered Shep for a heartbeat. “Fuzz stay with Shep-dog,” he meowed. He nodded his pink nose and purred loudly.
    â€œAn ex-alpha and a declawed cat,” Shep groaned. “We’ll be quite a pack.”
    Fuzz stopped purring. “Shep-dog no want Fuzz?” the cat hissed.
    Shep wished he’d kept his snout shut. Nothing he woofed was coming out right. He’d just kicked dirt in the snout of his most loyal packmate.
    â€œOf course I want you in my pack, Fuzz,” Shep woofed. “You’re the only friend I’ve got.”
    The cat flicked the tip of his tail, thinking. “Accept apology,” he meowed.
    Shep wagged his tail. “I’ll howl the pack together,” he barked. “We’ll move straight through the Park toward sunrise. Will you scout ahead, see if there’s any trouble lurking?”
    â€œFuzz check,” the cat meow-barked and sprang off into the shadows.
    Shep gathered the dogs, gave them each one of Fuzz’s bug snacks, and explained the