George Knows Page 6

  Auntie Heather comes over and scrapes more of the sticky things away from the print. “It must have climbed the tree. I don’t see any gouges or more prints in this tree. Maybe he climbed it like George did.” She pets my chest and continues to get rid of the needles. “Well, sort of like George. It never occurred to me that a spruce tree was like a spiral staircase, at least to a dog. Anyway, good job, boy, but next time call us. You can tree your quarry without climbing for it. Karly, let’s fix your familiar and see what else he can find.”

  “Can I do it without him? I mean, before it took both of us,” my Girlpup asks. I can feel her lack of confidence. If I felt better I would snuggle with her, instead I warble encouragement.

  “He sounds like he has a tummy ache,” my brilliant Girlpup tells Auntie Heather. Where did she get that idea? I shake my head and hold out my foot.

  Auntie Heather takes my paw and runs her hand over the pads. “This doesn’t need healing, just a little cleaning.” She pulls out the needles and tries to get the sticky stuff off. “When we get back I’ll put some olive oil on this. It works well for cutting through sap. He’s going to pick up more debris. Just like his paws have double-sided tape on them. Nothing to do about it now.”

  I tilt my head and gaze into her eyes. It feels much better without sharp things in between my toes. I take a swipe at my paw with my tongue and use my teeth to pull off some of the stickysweetpiney goo. I am about to swallow it when Auntie Heather tells me to drop it. I give her my best begging eyes.

  Please?

  She looks serious and I drop it at her feet. Rats. It might be good—like sidewalk gum.

  “So do I heal him the same way we did Rupert?” Karly has her hands on my spine. She stops when I wince at a sore spot. “It’s really hot here.”

  Auntie Heather moves Karly’s hand from my back and gently touches the hot spot. “He has a strain. Normally I’d just give him some white willow, but since we’re still going to hunt, let’s give him a little boost. If one or both of you get hurt, the healing method is similar to what you did earlier. It’ll be quicker if I do it this time, though. Roque?”

  My buddy clatters down a tree just to the right of us. He’s showing off. He can be as silent as a can of dog food. I don’t even smell he’s there. He’s very good at camouflage and has offered to teach me, though I won’t be hiding in trees anytime soon.

  Maybe under.

  Auntie Heather keeps her hand on my back, slowly massaging the area. Roque puts his little hands on top of hers and I feelsmelltaste blue flowers, sweet and warm in the sun.

  I crane my neck to see better and watch the glow surround my back and their hands. The hurt melts away and I feel like I had a nap and water, and am ready to rock and roll.

  Woot!

  Auntie Heather and Roquefort have healed me in the past and it’s always wonderful. They lift their hands away from me, Auntie Heather gives me another pat, Roquefort sniffs my ears, and I slurp his face. He chatters at me, only a little put out by my gratitude. Raccoons don’t understand doggy kisses, but he’s getting better at accepting my gestures of love.

  Roquefort clambers back up a tree and disappears into the leaves. Auntie Heather finds my leash and collar and puts it back around my neck. “George, I’m not as young as I used to be, so take pity. I understand the power of smelltaste, but restrain yourself so we don’t have to heal me.”

  I nod. A good dog doesn’t deliberately hurt his Peep. I wait until she stands up and raise my head to catch air scent. There’s nothing other than what’s leading from the footprint, so I return and follow the drying scent. My mouth is getting dry from being open gathering the smelltaste. I never remember how thirsty I get tracking. Auntie Heather shakes her head and reaches into the bag she has on her back. She pulls out a water bottle, twists off the cap, and pours it slowly into my cheek so I don’t choke. It’s a little warm, but it tastes wonderful.

  “Sorry, George, I forgot, too. Do you want to rest or go home?”

  I snort when I am done and do the shake business, getting everything into place. The fog around my nose blows away and scents rush in much clearer. I am ready and put my super nose back on the trail.

  Weird.

  Sometimes, I catch it above the floor of the woods, and sometimes it’s buried under the leaves and needles. It goes around trees and sometimes up them. I want to climb again.

  Auntie Heather gives a gentle tug on the leash. “Four on the floor, George.”

  As if.

  I am an automatic. ’Kay, so my nose is on automatic. I put it back on the ground and stay with the ground scent. Why does the scent jump around so much? I am a dog on a mission and follow the smelltaste of gassulfurdrysnakecatstink, even though I wish it wasn’t getting stronger. That’s good—it means I am getting closer. It’s bad because I want to toss my cookies.

  My right rear foot stumbles over a branch. Another branch grabs my left front. What the…The scent is very strong here, but it keeps going off to the left. I try to escape the trap. The more I struggle, the more I get myself in a tangle. To top it off, Auntie Heather is holding the leash too tight. I cough, she knows better.

  “Quit struggling George. There’s a big hole under those branches and if you keep moving forward you’re going to fall in.”

  I let Auntie Heather pull me out of the snarl of branches like a fish.

  How embarrassing.

  I am supposed to protect her. Karly kneels next to me and runs her hands over me. She hits my tickle spot and my hind leg shakes. Hee. Stop it now, work to do.

  Karly moves her hand away from the spot and gives me a final pat. “You’re okay. Auntie Heather, what is that?”

  Auntie Heather pulls branches away from the hole and we all look in. It’s deep. I can’t see anything. The scent is hot and feels thick in my mouth. I sneeze to clear it away.

  Doesn’t help.

  Gack.

  “George, is anything in there?” Auntie Heather bends to stroke my ears.

  Well, yes. There are things in there. Metal things. Wood things. Plate things. Bone things. Peep bones.

  I am not going in there, even though there’s no one home. I don’t like to see Peep bones without the bodies that pet and give food. My tail swishes low and I back up.

  Nope. Not going, and nothing can make me. I brace my feet.

  Auntie Heather cocks her head at me. “Fine. We won’t go in there yet.” She turns to my panting, but otherwise very quiet, Girlpup. “I don’t think there’s anyone home.” Auntie Heather sniffs and wrinkles her nose. “Do you smell anything?”

  Finally! Someone is using her nose.

  Head.

  Same difference.

  “Yeah, that’s the same horrible stink that George made me smell when I was cleaning up. What is it? He sure seems to like it and wanted to share.” My Girlpup shudders. Usually I’d disagree about a scent being bad, but I agree with her.

  Auntie Heather shakes her head and stares at Karly hard. “You need to pay attention to him. Why did he share it with you?”

  My Girlpup squirms and traces a line in the needles with her shoe. “He shared it with me when we first found the shredded tree. I thought it was just another smelly scent he wanted to share because he thought it was good. How was I supposed to know he wanted me to know it was whatever the thing is?”

  “Context, Karly. You were near a site with fresh signs. George can’t use words—you’re aware of that. When he opens the link try to figure out why, don’t just make a snap judgment. I forgot to ask if you started a computer search?”

  “Not really. It was getting late.”

  “Well, then it isn’t so important, but you may have missed an important and timely clue. You can describe the smell when you do your search.” Auntie Heather gathered the branches and covered the hole again. “I’d rather not do this, something might fall in. I’m just worried that whatever dug this out will come back and find it disturbed. If we can smell it, it could smell us.”

&
nbsp; “Aren’t you going to tell the police?” Karly looked confused—not that it’s unusual. She really needs to pay attention to me, like Auntie Heather says. I can answer most of her questions. We don’t need the Badge Dude.

  Um.

  Well, maybe. He does have guns. Guns might be useful.

  “This isn’t a mundane creature. There’s something mystical out there and we’re far better equipped than they are. Let’s continue sleuthing until we find out more information. Perhaps I’m wrong. Still, those bones aren’t fresh so I don’t think it will hurt to spend a couple more days looking for answers.”

  I know it isn’t a common variety skunk. Why don’t they ask me anything? Like, will it come back? Should they make a circle of protection to keep other things from falling in the hole? The branches cover it too well. I am afraid animals and Peeps can fall in and get hurt.

  Or eaten by The Bad Thing if it comes back.

  Auntie Heather nods—she understands my thoughts. I feel warm and snuggly. It’s good to have someone who gets me without my having to trip them to get their attention.

  “Help me construct a circle around the nest. We need to make sure nothing finds it and tumbles in by accident. If we construct this right, we’ll be able to tell if the creature tries to cross the circle.” Auntie Heather reaches into a bag she always carries on her back and pulls out a small mesh pouch with sweet smelltasting herbs. I paw her to let me sniff and lick the bundle.

  “Sorry George, not for you and dog spit isn’t going to make it work any better. Karly, cup your left hand.” Auntie Heather sprinkles some of the mixture into my Girlpup’s hand. I almost swoon, it smelltastes so good. It wouldn’t protect against me.

  “It’s made with kitchen herbs with a sprinkling of sea salt. The recipe is in your many-times great-grandmother Leah’s cookbook.” Auntie Heather takes position on the edge of the nest.

  “I’m going to walk in a circle around the hole and you’re going to follow, sprinkling the mixture behind you. As you walk, I want you to picture a wall of bright light rising up behind you. George is closest to the wild energy of the woods and can cement the circle into place, a sort of ‘No Trespassing’ sign. The best analogy I can come up with is we’re making a fishnet, weaving the energy of the crystals with the strength in the herbs.”

  In other words, I get to pee on the corners.

  If circles had corners. Well, that’s my addition. I am accepted as a natural part of the woods, not like a Peep.

  Auntie Heather scowls at me. “The plants and animals will recognize this is a power circle and lend their own energy to prevent anything from crossing the circle without that addition. Just add your energy to Karly’s please.”

  Personally, I think pee-mail will work better.

  Roquefort comes out of the trees and follows me. He might be better at collecting the wild energies, but I’ll never tell him. He’s already got a big head.

  Not like me.

  He raises his masked face to me and chitters. I hate it when he laughs at me.

  We finish with the circle and it shimmers like heat on a road when it’s very hot.

  Beautiful.

  Mmm, it smells nummy.

  Auntie Heather pulls out a bell on a chain around her neck and rings it. Rings of sound hit the shimmer and stop. The circle works. “I think that’s enough for today, you look exhausted. You’ve done more magic than we normally do in a week. I’ll take you home. I bet you have schoolwork and if you have time…” Auntie Heather gives her the ‘adult’ eye. “You can start a computer search for missing persons. Do your homework first.”

  Karly does look like something the cat coughed up. I nudge her ankle and share a little of the energy that surrounds me. She used too much to make the circle, but she’ll learn. My Girlpup looks down and smiles at me. Good, she recognized what I did. Oh yeah, she’ll learn. I am a good teacher. We follow Auntie Heather out of the woods to go home to my supper dish.

  Chapter Eight

  I fell asleep on Karly’s foot last night, so I don’t know how much time she put in on her re-search. We didn’t go back in the woods to search again, so how the computer can help her search is beyond me. I woke up under the computer desk listening to her grumble about homework taking too much time. Dogs have it good, no homework, no leaving our dens to work. Silly Peeps work too hard. There’s not enough time for them to take naps, rub our bellies, or feed us. They never feed us. I fall back asleep until my tummy alarm goes off.

  I crawl out from under the desk and trot to Karly’s bed. I snuffle in her ear—the only way to get her attention since I’m not allowed on the bed. No one said I couldn’t put my front paws up. I lick her nose. Wake up. Wakeup, Girlpup, I haven’t eaten anything in months. I am going to die of starvation if I don’t get breakfast. Mmm, breakfast. I drool.

  On her face.

  If you don’t get up you’re going to have wet shoes.

  And a puppy present near the door.

  It’ll be your fault, too.

  Karly stretches and bats my head away. Hey, don’t do that. I bonk her with my muzzle and sit next to the bed.

  Hurry up Girlpup.

  It’s not like you don’t know the drill—we do this every morning.

  “Mmmmf. George, cut it out. It’s a vacation day; I get to sleep in during spring break.” She rolls away from me, hiding her head under a pillow.

  What is this vacation stuff? It’s a day. Days start with my breakfast and a walk. I wuffle. She pulls the covers up. I yap. She digs in deeper. I bark. She doesn’t move. I go to the foot of the bed, get a good mouthful of covers, and pull. I keep pulling backward until I hit the closet behind me. I pull until all the covers are on the floor. A stuffie falls to the floor. When I was a pup I thought it was mine and nibbled a little hole in its wing. She didn’t share and took it back. It’s always out of my reach now. It’s just a stupid lizard thing with wings.

  “George!” Karly’s head pops up over the edge of the bed. She isn’t happy. She usually wakes up grumpy. I thump my tail and give her my best eyes. They are melting eyes that show her how much I love her and how much I need to eat.

  She moans, rubs her eyes, and pulls her hands through her fur. It’s standing up in funny points. Dogs never wake up frazzled. We are predators, always aware of our surroundings. We are wolves that found better living arrangements. Though right now, I don’t think much of them. I bark and bounce in front of the door. Hurry up, Karly! I am going to melt into skin and bones. My bladder is going to burst. I don’t know which is more important to deal with first.

  Karly stretches her arms high above her head and pulls the blankets back. “’Kay blockheaded freak, give me a minute and I’ll take you outside to potty.”

  I sit and stare at her.

  Move it.

  Cover your Chinese Crested pink skin.

  Hurryhurryhurry! I do my potty dance by the door.

  “Oh for the love of peanut butter. I’m going as fast as I can.” Karly pulls on some little things and then a shirt and jeans. Though why jeans are named after a friend of hers is weird. “Let’s go outside.”

  She opens the door out of the bedroom and I make a mad dash to the door that goes outside.

  “Hang on, you know the score,” Karly grabs her leash and clips it to my collar. “Stop pulling, you aren’t going to burst.”

  Easy for her to say.

  “Hey, I haven’t even gone to the bathroom yet.” She grumbled, “And Joey is probably using up all the hot water.”

  “Karly? I didn’t realize you were awake. I’ll have pancakes ready for you when you get back. Don’t dawdle.” I can smell the breakfast Packmom is making. Guess I’ll only check the pee-mail on our block.

  Karly and I make it out just in time. I sniff the base of the big tree by the street, checking for anything new.

  Nothing much.

  I continue to check each tree, finding out which of my friends were out already today.

  Not too many.

/>   So much nothing.

  “George, would you hurry up and potty already? I have to go, too, and besides, we have a ton to do today.”

  Like what? Something more important than checking today’s pee-mail? You spend enough time on the Internet looking at yours. You’re just jealous because you can’t mark a tree.

  What’s that?

  We pass a house with a big yard surrounded by a chain link fence. There are lots of dogs yapping, playing tug of war, or jumping over sticks hanging between two others. I don’t remember ever seeing this before. I pull Karly to the fence and sit.

  One dog is running with her partner. The partner is lazy, just making loops around the big things scattered around the yard. The black and white border collie is hollering sharp yaps as she runs through tunnels, jumps over sticks, climbs up wooden hills. I turn my head and look at Karly. We could do that. I could teach her teamwork doing this. What is this?

  Karly’s eyes dart from the yard to me. “George, not going to happen. You couldn’t climb any of that stuff much less jump those jumps. You are the least agile animal that ever walked on four paws.”

  What the…That’s just rude. I could do it. A small wiener dog is next up. It leaps over very low jumps, climbs up the hill, and races up through a tunnel. It really looks like fun. By the end, though, the little guy is panting his heart out and breathing hard. Um. I didn’t realize it was that much work. I am plenty agile; I just don’t see the point of running if there isn’t a rabbit involved. Besides, Karly and I are a team. No way is she leading me in loops.

  This is stupid.

  I bite the leash and pull Karly to a line of trees next to the road. I finish my business and kick some grass and dirt over it. My Girlpup cleans up my mess like a good Peep, and we head home for breakfast. I am going to die of starvation if we don’t get back now. Why are we still here?

  * * * *

  “Pancakes are on the table,” my Packmom, Doreen, shouts from the kitchen. “There’s one for George in his bowl, mixed in with his kibble.”