Diefenbaker
The man was asleep, again. The first time he had been able to lick the man awake. The second time the man had woken up himself after a little barking. But this time the man was not responding to the excessive licking or the incessant barking. He was beginning to wonder if the man was dead. The man didn't smell dead, but then, the young pup hadn't smelled a man up close before and, all in all, men smelled different then he would have thought. He didn't find this man's smell frightening, like he expected too. He actually found it pleasant, almost comforting. That's why it was so important for the man to wake up. And he wasn't. Maybe it was the blood that was coming out of his head that was the problem. The blood smelled like death. He started to howl.
He howled and he howled. Forever, it seemed. It got dark, and cold. The man didn't wake up. To top it all there was no food in the hole they had fallen in. It would be three days now that the pup hadn't eaten. He thought the man had some dried meat on him, but it was folded up in all of his extra skin, impossible to get out. The pup hadn't been alive all that long, he had never been away from his mother until he was foolish enough to follow the sent of man into a hole, but he knew, somehow he knew that if no one came soon more than the blood would smell like death.
* * *
Diefenbaker hated the harness. None of the other dogs seemed to mind, but none of the other dogs had such stupid names either. Actually that was only the tip of the ice burg. There were hundreds of differences between the sled-dogs and the half wolf.
They didn't want to sleep in the same room as the man. They didn't want to go into the same buildings as the man. They didn't seem to care about him beyond the fact he fed them. Even the Alpha-dog seemed to like being the head of the pack more than he liked being with the man.
When Diefenbaker had lived with his mother and brothers and sisters he had heard all sorts of stories about men and what they would do to you if they caught you. His mother had lived with men for a long time she talked about whips and chains and no food. There were patches of fur scraped off of her that would never grow back and a chunk of her ear was missing. But, as far as Diefenbaker could tell, this man had never done anything even remotely close to what his mother talked about. These dogs didn't even know what a whip was. Diefenbaker couldn't understand it, how could these dogs be so close to something so good and take it for granted? The only thing that this man did that Diefenbaker couldn't stand was put them in these horrible harnesses before he took them out for a run. It really wasn't that bad, but didn't he realize that they could run so much faster without the harnesses. Dief started chewing on it again, trying to get out. He was so occupied when the man and his friend came out of the building, talking.
"So is that the little pup I found with you in the bear trap?" The friend asked, he was huge, almost twice the man's size.
"Indeed he is." The man said, he sounded disappointed. Diefenbaker looked up and watched the conversation.
"He grew."
"He can't stop eating."
"What you name this one?"
"Diefenbaker."
"You know, Ben, sooner or later you're going to run out of Prime Ministers."
"In that case I'll have to switch countries."
"What, like English PM's."
"Yes."
"Well, than at least you could give you're bitches feminine names. Like Thatcher or something."
"You know, Steve, There has been only one female English prime minister." The man pointed out. "I could only name one dog that."
"What you're bitches named now?"
"Well, that one is McKenzie." He said pointing to one of the dogs behind Diefenbaker on the dog sled, "And that one is St. Laurent, and that one is Pearson."
"Humm," the friend grunted as he scanned the dog sled. When he got to Diefenbaker he pointed. "He's gonna chew through that harness less you stop him."
"It'll be the third harness he's chewed through. You know," the man said, turning to his friend. "I'm not sure he's as tame as he appears."
"He attack any of the other dogs?"
"No."
"He attack you?"
The man shook his head.
"He attack anything besides the harness?"
"No, but when he followed you home from the bear trap, and later when he followed me home from your cabin . . ." He looked at Diefenbaker a long time, Dief looked back matching his gaze perfectly. "Maybe I misunderstood."
"He's a dog, Ben." His friend said dryly.
"A wolf, there's a difference."
"Dogs don't chew through harnesses."
"Would you have found me if hadn't been howling like that?"
"Eventually."
The man smiled knowingly. If Diefenbaker hadn't been howling like that the friend wouldn't have come until it was too late. They all knew it.
* * *
The cold northern air exploded with the sounds of gun fire. The gunman was on the ridge, and he was a good shot, Diefenbaker could hear the bullet hit the ice behind them. Fraser (Diefenbaker had discovered that was the man's name, and thought it was almost as bad as his own) urged the dogs on faster, trying to get them all out of harms way before whoever was firing on them was successful at shooting them down. Diefenbaker wasn't running as fast as he could, the stupid harness was keeping him in. If it weren't for the harness he could have run really fast. He could have climbed up to the ridge and attacked the shooters.
More gun shots shattered the air. In the cold air of the north the sound was unspeakably loud, and it bounced off of the ridges surrounding the ice flows. The noise was almost deafening. The ice started cracking beneath them. The other dogs started to panic. More shots, the ice got worse.
Suddenly the ice beside them burst and produced a deep schism at the bottom of which freezing water was splashing up threateningly. That was the last straw. Each of the other stupid dogs tried to run away towards separate directions, which was impossible because they were all harnessed together. The tension on the ropes caused Diefenbaker's already frayed harness to snap, freeing him. It also caused the dog sled to tip, and Fraser to fall into the crevice.
He let out a short yell of surprise and then there was a splash. The other Dogs were fleeing, to stupid or afraid to help their master. Diefenbaker, however, was neither. Fraser was trying to swim but failing, and the currant was moving him towards an ice flow. If no one helped him he would be sucked under and drowned. Diefenbaker didn't even think, he jumped into the water to save the man.
When he hit the water it felt like a thousands sharp knives stabbed his flesh. For a second he couldn't breathe, and he was entirely disoriented by the huge noise, like a hundred gun shots that just kept going. But despite these he managed to paddle his way towards Fraser. With much effort he managed to grab the man's cote and pull them both partially up onto the other side of the ice flow. Diefenbaker was exhausted from the cold; the noise was becoming painful, and his mussels were sore. Thankfully Fraser was able to pull them fully onto the ice flow. Diefenbaker was whimpering softly, he could feel it in his throat but he couldn't hear it at all. He didn't know where Fraser was or what the man was doing; he was too occupied trying to stop the horrible noise. He pawed at his ears and tried to burry his head in the snow. He didn't know how long he wallowed like that, it seemed like an eternity. But when he felt Fraser's gentle hand ruffle his fur. Diefenbaker opened his eyes and glanced up at the man. He looked very worried. He moved his mouth, but no words seemed to come out. Still, it looked like his lips formed the words "Thank you."
* * *
Fraser had made a fire out of the remains of the sled. As much as the lights and the smell frightened Diefenbaker, it was warm and the man was there making sure that no sparks got into his fur. Fraser also gave Diefenbaker a relatively large amount of pemmican. Normally the wolf would devour it scarcely before it left his masters hand, but the pain in his ears was so over whelming that he could only bare to slowly nibble at the meat.
After a long while the noise got softer until it died down entirely and there was frightening silence. As Deif gazed across the fire he could see Fraser gazing back at him. After about an hour Fraser's mouth started moving, no sound came out, at least no sound that Dief could hear. Again, wolf watched carefully and was able to figure out what Fraser had said.
"You saved me, again," he paused. "You realize of course that you didn't have to, that you were under no obligation to. You saved my life once, by jeopardizing your own . . . well now you've saved it twice by jeopardizing you're own. I'd hate to think you felt obligated in any way . . . for any reason. I wouldn't want you to die, just because I have a propensity for getting into difficult situations. Don't misunderstand me, I'm very grateful. It's just that . . .
"You know, I grew up with dogs . . . my grandmother had a sled pack, as did my father, but ah, but not one of them ever acted like you. I assumed that it was just the wolf in you're blood, and maybe that's what it is, but even the most loyal of all my father's Alfa dogs would never have done what you did. Not once, but twice." A warm smile appeared on his lips. "In fact I remember my father telling me about one time when he was sledding across a glacier field up near wide-eyed canyon. They were right along the edge of the glacier, a hundred foot drop only inches away, when the man he was tracking (a coal miner turned bank robber) seemed to appear out of no where and started throwing rocks at the dogs. They became spooked, much as the other dogs did tonight, and my father was thrown off the edge of the glacier." He paused. "Come to think of it I'm not sure I know the end of the story. I mean I know he survived, he's still alive, I just don't know how." He fell into silence.
"Do you want to stay with me for some reason?" He asked at length. "Do you figure I owe you? Having saved my life twice? Am I more you're human than you are my wolf?" With that he added more wood to the fire and let the conversation die.