Vinny had refused to leave Lady’s side, promising to call for them if anything happened. The rest of the dogs headed for the Dennings as they left the spider farm. Girl saw them from the Dooryard and hurried to catch up to them. Taking in their somber mein and the droop of their ears and tails, she quietly stepped up next to Lucky, put her hand on his back, and joined the procession. The broken sandstone hill and its waterfall and the pond beneath came into view and the group of dogs spread out, joining the coyotes and sprawling out here and there, licking their wounds in silence.
Girl seemed about to speak from her seat next to Lucky, but the big dog spoke first. He knew she didn’t understand what was going on. “It was long and long ago. When I was a pup. Strangers were at our den, making noise. I was afraid and I ran out the front door when Girl got home from school. Something chased me down the road, biting at my heels and spurring me on as fast as my little paws could carry me..” His copper brows lowered between his eyes. “It was dark when Quigley found me, still running when I could muster up the strength, and dragging myself along one paw after another when I couldn’t. He seemed so big then. He pulled the collar off me and that was the end of whatever was chasing me.” Lucky looked down at his paws and was quiet for just a moment. “When I told him I had a home and I liked it. He taught me how to track my way back there. Told me if I learned to do that, I’d never get lost again.” Lucky sighed, bringing his eyes up to meet Girl’s. “I never did.”
Again the dogs fell to licking their wounds in relative silence. “I never knew how to play until Quigley taught me.” Val said at last. “My Sir, he was very…” She sighed, “Very stiff. Formal. We trained together, him and I. It was like playing, but with discipline. He took me places with him, places with lots of other dogs and we earned fancy ribbons that he hung with pride in our den. He was a good man, my Sir, but he was not playful. He worked long hours sometimes and there was a Boy that would come sometimes to take me on walks. I like walks. One day, he didn’t come. It felt like an eternity, but I had to go out. I couldn’t mark in the house. I opened the door and left. Took myself for a walk. That was the day I met Quigley. He showed me the grass places in the deep City. Where trees grew and a dog could run and play. He taught me that and we played often.” Val sat straight, but her shoulders were hunched and her head was low. “He came for me when the Winds took Sir. I barked and barked and barked, but I couldn’t get out. He dug me out, brought me into the Pack with him when he came.”
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Allegro picked up almost immediately, her apricot fur was a mess, but she pulled herself up to her full height. “My Daddies took me to the grass places every day. They would let me run free with the other little dogs. Quigley didn’t belong to anybody, but he was at the grass places a lot. He must have known just about every dog in the neighborhood. We used to talk through the fence at the grass place. He would tell me the best stories about the wide world. Sometimes I would bring him a treat or two when the Daddies were generous. Big Daddy had me at work with him the day the Winds came. Quigley and Val came for me.”
Norman, the little Keeshond, sat up slowly. “I met him the day the Winds came. We were on a walk, my Woman and I, and she sought shelter inside a store when the bells started ringing. They wouldn’t let me go in so she left me outside.” He was silent for a moment. “I realize now that she probably knew it was dangerous and she left me outside anyway.” His shoulders rolled and his head drooped. Quigley led me down into the sewers while the bells were ringing. We were safe. He saved my life.”
“My woman was very particular about everything. I wore a collar that would bite me if I moved wrong.” Intrepid took up the telling, “It kept me close to home, but whatever made it bite me, didn’t do anything to keep other dogs away from my food and water. Quigley started coming around last autumn. He was nicer than the others, let me eat some of the food too. The others would take all my food when they came, but Quigley made sure I got to eat too. He marked my territory as part of his too, so the other dogs stopped coming around after a while. Sometimes in the winter, he’d come into my doghouse with me and we would cuddle up together so we could both be warm. I followed him after the Winds.”
The brindle mastiff looked around for a moment before he spoke up. “Quigley was the best of us. He was what it means to be a dog. He looked after his Pack, checking in on us and making sure we were as happy as we could be. He was generous and brave.” The dog lifted his chin. “I will miss him.” Axel led the first howl as they sang for Quigley. They spent hours sharing stories of the black and white dog, talking about hilarious jams Quigley had gotten them into over the years and some that he had gotten them out of.
The dogs let themselves feel his loss even as they celebrated the life he had lived. The sadness they felt was in every curve of their shoulders, every dip of their head, every twitch of an ear. It was complete and consuming. And then, with one last howl, this one even more mournful and undulating than any that had come before, the dogs let it go. They stood up from their scattered places about the dennings and headed their separate ways, each going off to get on with their lives, one amazing friend less.