The Good Dog by Avi Page B

“Get him off of me!”
    Redburn, far from helping, skittered away, tail tucked between his legs.
    Sullivan raised the long gun and aimed it right at Lupin.
    At that moment McKinley reared up from the bushes where he had been hiding, tore into the clearing, and leaped at Sullivan. Even as he struck the man, the gun fired.
    McKinley heard a high-pitched yelp from Lupin as she rolled away from Pycraft’s body.
    Sullivan, reeling from the impact of McKinley’s forepaws, fell to his knees, dropping the gun.
    McKinley whirled. “Duchess!” he barked. “Lupin! Run!”
    The greyhound, terrified, seemed to be standing on her toes. McKinley clamped his teeth onto the gun. At the same time a bleeding Lupin struggled to her feet and bolted behind the boulders.
    Pycraft lunged forward on his knees, grabbing hold of Duchess by a rear leg. Yapping with pain, the greyhound tried to pull free.
    â€œIt’s a wolf!” Pycraft cried, holding fast to Duchess. “Get him, Sullivan! Get the wolf!”
    Sullivan snatched at the gun, but McKinley, snarling and growling, hung on fiercely.
    With a yank, Sullivan pulled the gun from McKinley’s teeth and ran behind the rocks. He was shouting, “Redburn! Get after him, boy. Go!”
    Following his master’s orders, a frightened Redburn began to creep forward.
    McKinley jumped at the setter, knocking him down. Then he thrust his snout close to one of the dog’s silky ears. “Go after that wolf and you’ll never get back home!”
    Redburn, eyes rolled up, did not move.
    â€œGet the wolf!” Pycraft screamed. “Get him!” He held Duchess tightly with two arms now.
    McKinley heard two shots from the boulders. With a frightened howl, he spun about and plunged down the hill as fast as he could run.

13
    B y the time McKinley let himself into his house he was no longer afraid, just exhausted. And his mouth hurt from clamping onto Pycraft’s gun.
    He sniffed the air. No one was home. Relieved, he returned to the front yard and flopped down. Still panting, he gave himself over to worry.
    He had failed miserably. Duchess had been captured by Pycraft. Lupin had been wounded. And there were those extra, frightening shots from Sullivan. For all he knew, the wolf had been killed. And for what reason? Because Duchess wanted to be free. McKinley sighed. IfLupin was hurt—or killed—was it his fault? Oh, why did humans think they owned dogs?
    The thought was very painful. If Lupin was alive, perhaps he should run off with her to the wilderness. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine what it would be like. Visions of dark woods, cold nights, and sleeting snow filled his mind.
    He had barely begun to doze when he heard a bark. “McKinley, what happened?”
    He lifted his head. Aspen was standing close by, ears pitched forward, tail wagging slowly.
    McKinley growled.
    â€œThat bad?”
    McKinley rested his head on his front paws. “What do you smell?”
    â€œRedburn. Some humans, but I don’t know who. Something else. The wolf, perhaps? And . . . and gunpowder. Do I have it right?”
    McKinley closed his eyes. “It was really awful.”
    â€œMcKinley, every dog in town knows about the wolf. A few said they actually met her.”
    McKinley rolled his eyes at Aspen. “What are they saying?”
    â€œIt’s a bit of a jumble. They seem to know Duchess was caught. And that Lupin was involved. That the wolf is trying to recruit dogs to her pack and . . .” She hesitated.
    â€œGo on.”
    â€œThey’re excited. And worried. Asking about you, too. Wondering what you’re doing. Some of the dogs believe you bungled everything, and . . .”
    â€œAnd what?”
    â€œRedburn beat you out.”
    McKinley growled again. “I suppose he’s the one behind that story. This is what happened.” He gave her the truth as he knew it.
    When he