The Return by Dayna Lorentz Page A

your den is? The beach is a huge, long strip of sand, and the only scents I ever smelled there were salt and rotting weeds.”
    â€œI’d know my beach anywhere,” Pumpkin woofed with her snout raised, like a tiny, white version of Ginny.
    â€œAny other ideas?” Shep woofed to Callie.
    â€œNo,” she replied, “but I think Pumpkin might be onto something.”
    Pumpkin sprang to her paws, vibrating with excitement. “Yes! I am!” She waved her tail and waited for Callie to continue.
    Callie looked at the fluffy girldog as if even she found Pumpkin’s exuberance disturbing. “What I mean is that traveling on the beach, rather than the streets, back to our dens would mean that we would run into fewer humans. It might be safer.”
    â€œYes!” yipped Pumpkin. “It would be supersafe!”
    â€œThere are always humans on the beach,” grumbled Shep. “And there are no buildings to hide in or scavenge for food.”
    â€œI don’t think the humans have returned to the city to sunbathe,” barked Callie. “I think they have a few other things nibbling at them besides how brown their skin is.”
    â€œIs that what all those people were doing?” woofed Shep. “They sleep on the sand to turn brown?”
    â€œMy mistress sleeps on the sand all the time,” yipped Pumpkin. “I love the sand!”
    â€œAnd there are buildings alongside the beach,” woofed Callie. “Maybe there will be food inside those dens.”
    â€œYes!” barked Pumpkin. “My den is next to the beach!”
    Shep had that feeling again, of wanting to drop a paw on the little white yapper and plant her in the dirt like a palm tree. That’s not how an alpha should be thinking , he reminded himself and pressed his paws more firmly onto the ground.
    â€œIf that’s what you think is best,” he woofed to Callie, “I’m willing to go along with your plan.”
    The other dogs had woken at the sound of Pumpkin’s excited barks. They now crowded around the three of them.
    Shep turned his attention to Pumpkin, who bounced on her paws. “So, how do we get to your beach?” he barked as calmly as possible.
    Pumpkin furrowed her fluffy brow and nibbled a jowl, putting on a bit of a show for her audience. “Well, the sun rises over the beach, so we should walk toward sunrise until we hit the ocean. Then we’ll be at the beach!”
    â€œWe’re thousands of stretches from the ocean,” Zeus growled, padding into the clearing. “How does the yapper suppose we’re going to get from here all the way to the beach without getting caught by the dog catchers?” He limped over the dribble of water streaming out of the tunnel and sat near the scrubby bushes that grew under the trees.
    Shep’s hackles rose, as did every other dog’s — except Pumpkin’s; she seemed oblivious to Zeus’s menace.
    â€œThat’s no problem!” she yipped. “There aren’t that many people working to catch dogs — I only saw a couple in the kennel. The night they brought in Callie and the other dogs you were with, the humans had been yapping about a ‘nest of dogs,’ how they had to ‘break up the nest,’ so I think maybe whoever caught you was a special group organized to catch your pack. Most of the people here are trying to help clean up the mess that the storm left.”
    Rufus snorted a nasty little snort, always happy to contribute some tail-dragger comment. “I’d bet my snout that any human would call the dog catchers the heartbeat they spotted us, whether they were working with them or not.”
    Pumpkin — immune even to Rufus’s nastiness — wagged her tail and continued yapping happily. “Not if you’re superfriendly, they won’t!”
    â€œI agree with the young ladydog,” yipped Ginny. “I think we’ve been taking