Chapter 50

The next morning, I still had Jed with me, providing cover. “We’ve set up a rotation with some of the guys at the Creek. They’re all former military, so they will be armed, and they know what to do. Gotta love the Shoshone’s attitude about open carry.”

“Okay. I’ll have Toni drop me off at Crying Wolf’s new office. That’s where my official office will be, but I don’t plan on being there much.” I gave him the address. “Figure I’ll be there about noon.”

“Roger that.”

So, I spent the morning with Toni and the pups. They were already getting to be big. Not BIG, yet, but the signs were there. They were about fifty pounds each at two months old. Those dogs yesterday at Elk’s house gave me an idea.

I walked out to the backyard and didn’t call them or do anything. Instead, I sat on a bench quietly.

I went to alpha level, and called ‘Doyobi’ in my mind. He picked up his head and looked at me. ‘Come.’ He canted his head left then right. Then he trotted over and sat. I got a feeling of welcome. Of, ‘you were away, but now you’re here’ from him. Of peacefulness.

I reached out a hand and scratched his ears.

One at a time, I called them all over to me. Gwina then Ogoe, Sewai, and Hoagande. They all responded, first with the questioning look, then came over to get an ear scratch.

Toni was sitting off to the side looking quite confused.

“I’m going to take them outside, for a walk around the block,” I said. She reached over to get the leashes, but the dogs were already at the gate, raring to go.

“I don’t think I’ll need them,” I said to Toni. “I think we understand each other now.”

Toni looked a little surprised, but said nothing. She put the leashes down.

‘My pack,’ I tried to put out a general message. ‘Heel.’ With that, I opened the gate. They didn’t bolt for freedom like one would have expected. They waited. I stepped out and started walking. ‘With me.’

I got a feeling from each of them. ‘Of course.’ ‘Why not.’ ‘Oh you’re not going without me.’ ‘Sure.’ ‘Yeah, a walk.’

We strolled down the street, and I could feel Toni about half a block behind us. Then came THE CHALLENGE. A Doberman, on a leash, was coming toward us. ‘Calm. Sit. Friend.’ I said.

And they all sat, peacefully. The Doberman’s owner tightened up on his leash, but there was no hint that either he nor my pack even noticed that the other was there.

When he was gone, I went to each of them and gave them a hug around the neck. “What good dogs,” I said aloud. They didn’t seem to respond to the spoken word. ‘Good Doboyi,’ I said mentally. ‘Good Hoagande.’ And so on down the line. They each responded with enthusiasm.

We got to the corner and went to cross the street. ‘Stop.’ ‘Look.’ I looked left and then right. They didn’t get it at first. ‘Look’ I repeated. I looked left. ‘Look.’ I looked right.

‘Doyobi, look.’ A car was coming from the left. I looked left. Doyobi was on his feet ready to lunge at it. ‘Doyobi, stay.’

He was confused. An ‘I can get it’ thought mixed with the ‘Stay’ command.

I lowered my hand with my palm toward his nose. ‘Stay,’ I said again. He stayed. The others were watching.

‘He did what she said’ was the common feeling, mixed with satisfaction. They mobbed him, with little nips at his feet and ears.

I turned back to them and they immediately stopped and got back to their positions. ‘Is she mad?’ ‘We didn’t do anything.’ ‘We were excited.’

‘Look,’ I commanded as I looked left. ‘Look.’ And I looked right. This time, they got it. They did a quick look left and right, and when I crossed the street, the pack did too.

I got to the other side of the street and gave them all big hugs. I turned toward Toni’s house. ‘Home,’ I sent. They started running ahead. ‘NO. Heel.’ and they stopped and turned their collective heads toward me. ‘HEEL,” I said, not moving. And they all marched back with their heads down, tails not wagging.

When they got in position, I sent, ‘Good dogs,’ and gave them each a hug. We proceeded to go down the block and eventually got to the gate to Toni’s backyard. I opened it, and they waited again. I took a step into the yard and said ‘Okay, home.’ They bolted for their water dishes and I heard a jumble of reactions.

‘That was fun.’

‘It was so easy.’

‘Why can’t they all speak to us like that?’

‘I’m thirsty.’

Then I could hear Shen, their mother, say, ‘None other can speak like that. She is special.’

I got down on the grass, stamped my paws on the grass and mentally said ‘Play’. They bounded over like last time. They were bigger than the last time and full of themselves. I happily lost to the five of them.

I disengaged eventually, and Toni took me to the Wolf & Associates offices, in downtown Ethete. Toni wanted to know what happened with the dogs.

“I don’t know. Somehow I was able to communicate silently with them. I just felt it. I can’t explain it.” Not certainly in the few minutes we had in the car.

“I’m going to start with the more aggressive stuff,” she said. “Hold. Attack. Guard. And so on. I’m going to get a professional to help. He’s recommended by the owner of the Akita that is their sire. A good guy ... We’ll see how it goes. So I don’t want you to come over in the daytime for a couple of weeks or so. Don’t want to confuse them, so limit your visits to the evening, when the training time is done for the day.”

“Okay.”

‘Downtown Ethete’ meant two blocks from the Powwow site and close to the only non-diner and non-fast-food in town. I sat with Desert Flower and chatted about where Crying Wolf was. To the best of our reckoning, he and Stick (the keeper of their ranch in Texas), and the trailer he was towing were somewhere in Colorado.

Shortly, a big guy walked in with a six-shooter strapped to his hip. “You the Whirlwind?” he drawled.

“Yeah, I reckon I am.” Somehow when I heard that Texas accent, I fell into it myself.

“I’m Big Tex. I’m s’possed to watch out fer ya, today,” he said. I looked down, but didn’t see the spurs I sorta expected, nor the cowboy boots. Instead, he had work boots, from the look of them they were steel-toed boots.

“So, should I call you ‘Big’ or ‘Tex’ or just ‘Big Tex?’ We was fixin’ to go to lunch. Would you like to come along? My treat.”

“There’s a Little Tex out at the site. He’s running the trencher t’day. You best call him ‘Tex.’ He’s sensitive about his size. You kin call me anythin’ but late for supper.”