Tara Pollard - Seasons Christmas Quest: The Dogs Story

SEASONS CHRISTMAS QUEST

The Dogs Story

TARA POLLARD

iUniverse, Inc.
Bloomington

Seasons Christmas Quest
The Dogs Story

Copyright 2006, 2012 Tara Pollard

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This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously.

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ISBN: 978-1-4759-4007-7 (e)

ISBN: 978-1-4759-4008-4 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4759-4009-1 (sc)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2012913550

iUniverse rev. date: 07/31/2012

Contents

J ust out of reach of the circling timber wolves below, Season dug his claws into the tree branch, anchoring the hold on his position. Climbing a tree was a good trick for a dog to learn, but Season never imagined that such a skill could one day save his life. He was thankful that he was still young and nimble enough to do it. His master had taught him well, and Season took great pride in it, especially when he received high praise for it.

At home, he was often called to do it during parties. Everyone watching would squeal in delight every time he went up that tree, and as a bonus, he received tasty treats for his efforts. He could do lots of tricks, for the reward of a good snack. He could crush plastic water bottles in his mouth and put them in the bin, and he could even put away his own toys in his very own toy box at the end of the day. But there would be no treats for him this day, because this time, climbing that tree was not just a trick, but also a lifesaving skill.

Season knew that he could not climb just any old tree. It had to be a tree with a large, wide trunk and a branch low enough for him to reach easily but high enough to make it look more difficult. He also needed a good running start to propel him up the trunk, and then he had to take a good swift leap from the trunk to reach the branch. It was not easy and took great skill. Furthermore, the branch had to be wide and strong enough to hold his weight and allow him to anchor on it easily. The tree had to be a special tree. Skill or no skill, he felt pretty lucky to have found this particular tree, because it was much like one that grew in his own backyard, and that was miraculous in itself.

As he observed the angry wolves pacing below, he couldnt help wondering why they were trying to kill him in the first place. He hadnt done anything wrong; at least he didnt think he had. The lead wolf, the alpha, raged at him while intermittently biting and snarling at the rest in the pack who failed to catch the dog. As Season watched, he considered that maybe wolves were just plain mean, just as they say in storybooks, and there was no reasoning with them.

But Season tried reasoning with him. He barked at Alpha, trying unsuccessfully to communicate with him. He didnt know why the wolf couldnt understand him since they were both dogsof a sort, at least. But it seemed to Season that even if the wolf could understand him, Alpha would have none of it anyway, responding with nothing but bared teeth, growls, and snarls. He could tell they were not kindred spirits.

A confused owl swooped down to peer at Season while a family of squirrels kept watch on a higher limb, chattering nervously to each other. A different group of squirrels from another tree began watching and chattering. And then another group joined in the conversation from somewhere else in the woods. It seemed to Season that they were passing the word around.

He was getting weary and sore, clinging to the branch, and he wondered how much longer he could hold his position. When he had first entered the forest, the branches of the trees seemed to grab and scratch at him, seemingly in an attempt to ensnare him. But then, this lone tree had appeared out of nowhere, and it was holding him safe from harm, almost protecting him. He decided not to question it.

Either way, Season knew he could not spend forever in this tree, because by now his muscles were aching from holding on to the branch and he was too hungry and thirsty to tolerate another moment of waiting. He needed to continue on in his quest to save Melissa, before time ran out, and the wolves were not helping. Not in the least.

Just the thought of Melissa made Seasons heart ache. He considered her as belonging to him, although she was actually his masters little daughter, and it was with her that he spent most of his time. He knew he had to envision a plan of escape from those blasted wolves, but his thoughts kept wandering back to her and his fateful decision to leave his safe and warm home to find a way to save her life. Now he wondered if that had been the biggest mistake hed ever made.

It felt like a lifetime ago that his masters had rushed a very sick and dying Melissa to the hospital, leaving him in solitude to worry if he would ever see her again. He felt betrayed because he didnt understand why they had not taken him along. They almost always took him, and after all, he was just as worried as they were. Didnt they know that a dog can sense when something is wrong?

He remembered the first time theyd met. His masters had wrapped him in a bright, shiny red bow and dropped him into Melissas arms on the previous Christmas Eve. She had squealed with delight, covering him with kisses. She had named him Season, claiming the joy of the holiday season would last through all the seasons of the year if only he had that name.

He was a bright-eyed golden dog of mixed breed. No one really knew what kind, but they would say that he was part golden retriever, even though his ears were all wrong and he was not nearly as big. He was light golden and as fluffy and soft as a fox. His golden-brown eyes were highlighted in what looked like black eyeliner; he had a soft black nose and big, fuzzy ears that shot straight up. Melissas hair and eyes were the same color as his, which is why his masters chose him for her. Everyone said they were a matched set and marveled at how her hair shined and his coat glittered in the same color as they sat together in the noonday sun.

But that sun disappeared rapidly when a canopy of darkness began covering the skies, forbidding light to shine through it. The days had become nearly as dark as night and wrapped in a shroud of the bleakest gray. The land became covered in ash as if the sun had burned itself up, dropping the remnants upon the earth. The land seemed to wither and die, as a strange, dark winter cold settled upon it. And then

Seasons attention was suddenly yanked back to the present as he nearly lost his grip on the branch and fell off. He had to concentrate and not let his mind wander.

Alpha noticed and slammed into the tree, shaking it mightily as he jumped and leaped at him, but Season held on tight. The branch was not that high, but it was just out of reach of the wolves. Alpha had unsuccessfully tried to climb the tree himself, mimicking Season in his attempts. He took the same long running jump that he saw Season take, but he was so big and heavy, he kept falling to the ground with a thud. Finally, the alpha paced back and forth, seething in anger, biting at any who made the mistake of getting too close. His pack whined.