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I knew instinctively that this was a good place to hide from danger, but Mother was unimpressed with our find and hauled us unceremoniously back to the Den when it turned out our legs werent powerful enough to enable us to scale back up the bank. We had learned the lesson that we couldnt return to the nest on our own when we went down the bank, so as soon as Mother left the nest we did it again. This time Hungry joined us, though once he was in the culvert he sprawled in the cool mud and fell asleep. Exploring seemed like the right thing to do—we needed to find other things to eat. Mother, getting impatient with us, was standing up when we werent even finished feeding, which I could only blame on the other dogs. If Hungry werent so relentless, if Fast werent so bossy, if Sister didnt wiggle so much, I knew Mother would hold still and allow us to fill our bellies. Couldnt I always coax her to lie down, usually with a sigh, when I reached up for her while she stood above us Often Mother would spend extra time licking Hungry while I seethed at the injustice. By this time, Fast and Sister had both grown larger than I—my body was the same size, but my legs were shorter and stubbier. Hungry was the runt of the litter, of course, and it bothered me that Fast and Sister always abandoned me to play with each other, as if Hungry and I belonged together out of some sort of natural order in the pack.
     
Since Fast and Sister were more interested in each other than the rest of the family, I punished them by depriving them of my company, going off by myself deep into the culvert. I was sniffing at something deliciously dead and rotten one day when right in front of me a tiny animal exploded into the air—a frog! Delighted, I leaped forward, attempting to pounce on it with my paws, but the frog jumped again. It was afraid, although all I wanted to do was play and probably wouldnt eat it. Fast and Sister sensed my excitement and came stampeding into the culvert, knocking me over as they skidded to a stop in the slimy water. The frog hopped and Fast lunged at it, using my head as a springboard. I snarled at him, but he ignored me. Sister and Fast fell all over themselves to get at the frog, who managed to land in a pool of water and kick away in silent, rapid strokes. Sister put her muzzle in the pond and snorted, sneezing water over Fast and me. Fast climbed on her back, the frog—my frog!—forgotten. Sadly, I turned away. It looked as though I lived in a family of dimwits. I was to think of that frog often in the days that followed, usually just as I drifted off to sleep. I found myself dering how it would have tasted. More and more frequently, Mother would growl softly when we approached, and the day she clicked her teeth together in warning when we came at her in a greedy tumble I despaired that my siblings had ruined everything. Then Fast crawled to her, his belly low, and she lowered her snout to him. He licked her mouth and she rewarded him by bringing up food, and we rushed forward to share. Fast pushed us away, but we knew the trick, now, and when I sniffed and licked my mothers jaws she gave me a meal.
     
At this point we had all become thoroughly familiar with the creek bed, and had tracked up and down it until the whole area was redolent with our odors. Fast and I spent most of our time dedicated to the serious business of play, and I was beginning to understand how important it was to him for the game to d up with me on my back, his mouth cheg my face and throat. Sister never challenged him, but I still wasnt sure I liked what everyone seemed to assume was the natural order of our pack. Hungry, of course, didnt care about his status, so when I was frustrated I bit his ears. One afternoon I was drowsily watching Sister and Fast yank on a scrap of cloth theyd found when my ears perked up—an animal of some kind was coming, something large and loud. I scrambled to my feet, but before I could race down the creek bed to investigate the noise Mother was there, her body rigid with warning. I saw with surprise that she had Hungry in her teeth, carrying him in a fashion that wed left behind weeks ago. She led us into the dark culvert and crouched down, her ears flat against her head. The message was clear, and we heeded it, shrinking back from the tunnel opening in silence. When the thing came into view, striding along the creek bed, I felt Mothers fear ripple across her back. It was big, it stood on two legs, and an acrid smoke wafted from its mouth as it shambled toward us.
     
I stared intently, absolutely fascinated. For reasons I couldnt fathom I was drawn to this creature, compelled, and I even tensed, preparing to bound out to greet it. One look from my mother, though, and I decided against it. This was something to be feared, to be avoided at all costs. It was, of course, a man. The first one Id ever seen. The man never glanced in our direction. He scaled the bank and disappeared from view, and after a few moments Mother slid out into the sunlight and raised her head to see if the danger had passed. She relaxed, then, and came back inside, giving each of us a reassuring kiss. I ran out to see for myself, and found myself disheartened when all that remained of the mans presence was a lingering scent of smoke in the air. Over and over again the next few weeks, Mother reinforced the message wed learned in that culvert: Avoid men at all costs. Fear them. The next time Mother went to hunt, we were allowed to go with her. Once we were away from the security of the Den, her behavior became timid and skittish, and we all emulated her actions. We steered clear of open spaces, slinking along next to bushes. If we saw a person, Mother would freeze, her shoulders tense, ready to run. At these times Fasts patch of white fur seemed as obtrusive as a bark, but no one ever noticed us. Mother showed us how to tear into the filmy bags behind houses, quickly scattering inedible papers and revealing chunks of meat, crusts of bread, and bits of cheese, which we chewed to the best of our ability. The tastes were exotic and the smells were derful, but Mothers anxiety affected all of us, and we ate quickly, savoring nothing. Almost immediately Hungry brought up his meal, which I thought was pretty funny until I, too, felt my insides gripped in a powerful spasm.
     
It seemed to go down easier the second time. Id always been aware of other dogs, though Id never personally met any except those in my own family. Sometimes when we were out hunting they barked at us from behind fences, most likely jealous that we were trotting around free while they were imprisoned. Mother, of course, never let us approach any of the strangers, while Fast usually bristled a little, somehow insulted that anybody would dare call out to us while he lifted his leg on their trees. Occasionally I even saw a dog in a car! The first time this happened I stared in derment at his head hanging out the dow, tongue lolling out. He barked joyously when he spotted me, but I was too astounded to do anything but lift my nose and sniff in disbelief. Cars and trucks were something else Mother evaded, though I didnt see how they could be dangerous if there were sometimes dogs inside them. A large, loud truck came around frequently and took away all the bags of food people left out for us, and then meals would be scarce for a day or two. I didnt like that truck, nor the greedy men who hopped off it to scoop up all the food for themselves, despite the fact that they and their truck smelled glorious. There was less time for play, now that we we
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