Read Online The Good Dog by Avi - Free Book Online

was done, Aspen sighed. “Want some water? My outside bowl is full.”
    McKinley heaved himself up and followed his friend through the bushes to the back of her house. Though the water was a bit stale to his taste, he lapped it up. It soothed his mouth.
    Aspen whimpered, “Now what are you going to do?”
    â€œI need to see if I can get to Duchess. Hard to know what to do if I’m not even sure what happened.”
    â€œMcKinley, have you considered doing nothing?”
    Without even a look at her, McKinley began to trot off.
    Aspen barked. “McKinley!”
    He looked back.
    â€œBe careful,” she whined. “The dogs are upset. I bet the humans are, too. That wolf is making everyone nervous.”
    McKinley gave a sharp, single bark but continued on.
    â€¢Â Â â€¢Â Â â€¢
    He was halfway to Elk Scat Way when he noticed two dogs standing by the wayside. One of them was a large poodle named Boots. The other was a Schnauzer-bulldog mix famous for his large, furry jowls. His owners, much to the dog’s embarrassment, called him Jaws.
    McKinley paused. The dogs were not reacting normally, offering respect to him as head dog. Boots cocked her ears and lifted her tail mockingly. Jaws even began to yip.
    McKinley knew that if it came to a fight he would have no trouble with either of them, one at a time, or both together. All the same, he made a quick decision to trot on by.
    â€œHey, McKinley,” Jaws barked, “you still head dog?”
    McKinley refused to look back. But he knew that if they even asked such a question, it meant things were going to be different for a while—or forever.
    When Pycraft’s fence came into view, McKinley halted. He lifted his nose. Duchess’s scent was strong, but she was nowhere in sight. For all McKinley knew she was trapped in the man’s house. He followed the fence line sniffing the dirt. At the front corner he looked up and saw Duchess’s leash dangling from its cable and running right into the doghouse.
    McKinley trotted forward a few more paces, then paused. The doghouse, he realized, stood against the rear fence. If he could get behind that, he might be able to communicate directly with Duchess.
    He ran back the way he had come, turned sharply at the next corner, and moved up Raccoon Way until he was behind the fence. There were some low, thick pine bushes crowding it. Slinking down on his belly, pulling himself ahead with his forepaws, and kicking with his rear legs, he was able to slither forward along the base of the fence.
    It was not, he began thinking, a smart place to be. He could go forward, but a fast turnaround—in case he had to retreat—would be difficult. Still, he had to try reaching Duchess.
    Once behind the doghouse he gave two short, low barks. “Duchess! It’s me, McKinley. Can you hear me?” When there was no response he tried again, louder.
    From inside the doghouse came a muffled “McKinley, that you?”
    â€œIt’s me, all right. You okay?”
    Duchess crept out into the open. Pulling at her restraining leash—doubled now—she slipped behind the doghouse. She lay down opposite McKinley, pushing her dry nose through the wires.
    McKinley gave her nose a lick. “You hurt?”
    Duchess whimpered. “Just miserable.”
    â€œKeep your voice down,” McKinley growled. “And be calm. I’ll find a way to get you out.”
    â€œMcKinley,” Duchess moaned, “they shot Lupin.”
    â€œHow bad is she?”
    I’m not sure.
    â€œDid she start back north?”
    â€œI don’t know.”
    â€œIs . . . is she going to live?”
    â€œI don’t know that, either.”
    â€œDuchess, I tried to help.”
    â€œI know you did,” the greyhound whimpered. “See, I was supposed to lure Pycraft away so Lupin could run off and hide. It was her idea. But. . . but when I saw the long gun in that