It was a standard morning in Adventure Bay in years past, six months after a then five-year old Ryder founded the Paw Patrol, following his German Shepherd pup meeting an energetic dalmatian with a heart of gold. The sun was just barely dragging itself over the horizon when Mayor Goodway had called Ryder, who himself had just managed to drag himself out of bed.
"Uuuuurrrgghh… Ryder here..." Ryder groaned mid-yawn.
"Oh, Ryder! I'm so sorry to drag you out of bed!" Mayor Goodway said apologetically as the sleepy, exhausted-looking five-year old came into focus on her end of the screen. "A boy like you shouldn't be woken up at 6AM like this!"
"Mayor Goodwaaaaaaayy..." Ryder whined in embarrassment.
"Oh, right! I'm sorry!"
"Urgh… no, it's nothing… Something wrong?"
"Yes! Quite wrong! Someone, er..." The air was very quickly let out from Mayor Goodway's balloon. "I must admit… I don't know if you'll believe me if I tell you this..."
"Wh-What? It can't be THAT weird."
"Well, someone left a box on my doorstep a few minutes ago… And in it, well..."
"Oh, no. It wasn't anything dangerous?!"
"No, no! Quite the opposite, my boy! It's er… it was a… it was a pup."
Ryder blinked, falling silent for a few seconds. "A… pup?"
"I KNEW you wouldn't believe me!" Mayor Goodway complained. "It's such a small pup! It can't be any more than a few weeks old!"
"Where is it?"
"I've brought it into my office. I really don't know what to do…" she began. "I don't have any idea who the owner is… assuming it even HAS one..."
"Oh, no..." Ryder whispered sympathetically. "Don't worry, we'll be right over! No job is too big, no pup is too small!"
Hanging up the call, Ryder was slightly amazed at how quickly the news had woken him up. And Mayor Goodway was right: it was hard to believe. Quickly tossing his Pup Pad onto the safety of his bed, Ryder got dressed as quickly as he could, leaving out his shoes and socks before calling the two pups.
"Chase! Marshall! To the Lookout!"
The boy's words had just about managed to stir the two tiny pups from their deep sleep.
"Bwuuuugghhh… Gh-ghurrrrgghhh…?" The two slurred, wondering if they were dreaming as they made their way into the Lookout in a sleep-drunk stupor. Chase had barely managed to stay upright as he'd gotten into the Lookout, sitting down on the floor as Marshall came up behind him with his eyes open a crack, stumbling straight towards Chase, who was surprised at how quickly the incoming spotted train had woken him up.
"Marshall, look out!" Chase cried.
"Bllllrrrrrggghhhh…?" Marshall mumbled, before plowing straight into Chase, knocking the shepherd onto his back.
Chase stared bewilderingly at the sleepy dalmatian who now had his head resting on Chase's belly. It seemed that nothing could wake him properly, especially as he let out a yawn instead of a dumb joke. Chase, not knowing what to say, quietly patted Marshall's head as the doors closed and the elevator ascended.
Marshall slowly dragged himself after Chase as the shepherd bounded into place when the elevator reached its apex. Both pups sat dutifully on the floor.
"Paw Patrol ready for action, Ryder, sir!" Chase declared to Ryder, who had just gotten up from putting his socks and shoes on, strangely wearing a backpack as well.
"Sorry to drag you pups out of bed, but we've got a weird one." Ryder announced. "Mayor Goodway just called up and said that it was hard to believe."
"If Chickaletta's gotten stuck again, that'll be the third time this week!" Chase retorted apprehensively. "Last time she got stuck not even Marshall's ladder could reach that high!"
"Ah, yeah, we totally need more pie..." Marshall slurred sleepily. Chase burst out laughing while Ryder smirked and rolled his eyes while shaking his head.
"We really need to fill that helicopter soon..." Ryder muttered to himself as his smirk faded. "But it's not that for once, if you'd believe it. It's something that she found."
"'Found'?" Chase echoed.
"It's… a pup." Ryder announced, not sounding certain of his own answer.
"…a pup?" Marshall parroted, surprising both of them with his sudden wakefulness. "It's not in any danger, is it?"
"She didn't say so, but she said she couldn't find an owner."
Both pups let out a sad whine. "Poor thing..." Marshall whimpered.
"That's why we're all going over to City Hall. I have a feeling we're gonna need to do… something."
"Like keep it?" Chase asked.
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, Chase." Ryder cautioned. "We don't know what could happen or what kind of state it could be in…"
"(But I'd love another pup, don't get me wrong!)" he continued internally.
"But we're gonna help it, right?" Marshall asked.
"That's what we're here for, Marshall! We ready?" Ryder asked.
"Let's do it!" Chase and Marshall barked enthusiastically.
"Alright! Paw Patrol is on a roll!" Ryder cried, dashing for the pole to his ATV. It didn't take long for the two young pups to drive up after he left the garage, with their sirens blaring loud and proud.
Not that they needed the sirens, given how quiet the roads were. Not a single car was in sight so early in the morning and everyone made good time reaching City Hall, where Mayor Goodway was waiting for them out front.
"Oh, Paw Patrol! Thank you for coming so quickly!" Mayor Goodway greeted.
"We're here to help!" Ryder declared. "So where's this pup you mentioned?"
"Just in my office. We'd better hurry. Chickaletta's not too happy about her nest being taken."
"You… put the pup in Chickaletta's nest?" Chase echoed.
"I didn't want to leave it in that box! It was filthy!"
"Did it look sick?" Marshall asked.
"I can't tell..." Mayor Goodway admitted. "...but please, let's hurry!"
Mayor Goodway hurriedly herded everyone inside and down the halls to her office. Never before had she been so eager for someone to come to her office, but when there was a life potentially at stake, she could fly down the halls faster than a speeding bullet. It didn't take long for her to briskly get everyone into her office, where Chickaletta was sat on her desk, staring vacantly at the blanket-wrapped bundle in her nest.
"Oh, Chickaletta, there's no need to be jealous!" Mayor Goodway scolded. "The Paw Patrol are here, now! They'll be able to do something!"
"(The first step is knowing what that 'something' is!)" Ryder thought as moved towards the bundle. And as it came into focus, it became clear why Mayor Goodway was so distressed. Even with Marshall and Chase being larger breeds, this pup was even smaller than the pair of them and seemed to have trouble opening its eyes. By Ryder's reckoning, this brown-furred pup could only have been a couple of weeks old.
"Ohh..." Ryder put a hand to his chest and stared at the pup with deep sympathy in his eyes. The pup, seeming to hear him, turned around and looked at him with its honey-coloured eyes barely open, tensing up and beginning to shake.
"Hey, hey, it's OK, little fella..." Ryder whispered. "I'm not gonna hurt you..."
Chase and Marshall stared up at the frightened-looking pup.
"It's… so… small..." Marshall whispered. "It's even littler than I was when I joined the Paw Patrol!"
"No kidding!" Ryder replied sadly. "It's definitely not at talking age! I don't even think its been weaned, yet!"
The pups cocked their heads. "Huh? Ryder, sir, what's 'weaned'?" Chase asked innocently.
"It's when a pup doesn't need to live from its mother's milk anymore, Chase." Goodway explained gently.
"So… the pup can't live without its mom?" Marshall asked. "Where is she?"
"I wish I knew, Marshall… that box is so dirty I can't even make out the note that came with it!" Mayor Goodway pointed at the dirty, heavily water-damaged cardboard box in the corner to illustrate her point.
"There's a note?" Ryder asked, looking back from letting the pup sniff his hand and wondering why Mayor Goodway hadn't mentioned the note earlier. "Chase? Can you read it?"
"I-I'll try..." Chase stammered, moving towards the box as if he was afraid something would jump out at him.
"Marshall. Listen carefully. Mr. Porter stocks some puppy milk at his store. I need you run over and get some for me." Ryder instructed. "Tell him that Ryder will come by later to pay for it. Right now, this pup looks hungry. Can you handle that?"
"Yes, sir, Ryder, sir!" Marshall barked back immediately.
"Go get 'em!" Ryder replied, causing Marshall to bolt out the door.
"Oh, no..." Goodway sighed. "I knew they might be hungry, but I don't have anything to feed them with!"
"Don't worry, Mayor Goodway!" Ryder reassured, taking the backpack off. "I came prepared!"
Unzipping the pack, Ryder drew out a bottle suitable for a very small puppy, unscrewing the top in preparation for Marshall's return. As if on cue, the pup in the nest whimpered and cried in hunger.
"Shh, shh… It's OK, little guy..." Ryder cooed. "Marshall's one speedy pup. It won't be too long before we get some food in your little tummy."
"URGH-! Yuck!" Chase suddenly cried, causing Ryder to jump. "Man, this box smells terrible! Where the heck did it come from?!"
"It can't have been anything good, Chase." Goodway explained. "I don't even know who left it here, but it seems they left a note and some kind of tag with no collar."
Steeling himself, the young shepherd pressed his paws into the filthy box and tipped it up. And as Mayor Goodway had said, out spilled a sheet of creased-up, dirty paper and a small, metallic, coin-shaped object.
"You weren't kidding." Chase observed. "Does the note say anything?"
"If it does, I can't read it." Goodway replied. "Even if it wasn't so dirty, the handwriting is illegible!"
"Ill… edge… ibble?" Chase slowly parroted.
"It means 'can't be read', Chase." Ryder explained as his pup flattened out the note and squinted at it.
"Well, that's a good word!" Chase observed. "I can't read it at all!"
Indeed, the note was so dirty and the handwriting so poor that Chase was utterly unable to make heads or tails of it. He could only make out a faint squiggle here and there vaguely resembling a letter when they weren't cut off by a large patch of brown dirt. For a while, there was silence, except for the heartbreaking whining coming from the baby pup. Ryder did his best to quietly soothe the pup, but it clearly hadn't eaten in a long time. Ryder couldn't resist smelling the pup, either, who smelled noticeably dirty. But eventually, Chase managed to slowly start to spell out the note.
"P… E… S… A… E… R… E… M… Y… P… M… R… R… Y?" Chase slowly spelled out.
"Whatever could that mean?" Goodway pondered.
Ryder fell silent for a few seconds. "Maybe… I think the last sentence is 'I'M SORRY'… And I can make out 'MY' in there, too..."
"But what's that 'P' in the middle of it?" Chase asked.
"Maybe it means 'PUP'?" Goodway proposed.
"Wait-!" Chase cried. "Maybe the first words are 'PLEASE TAKE CARE'? So put together… 'PLEASE TAKE CARE OF MY PUP. I'M SORRY.'?"
"It sounds like whoever left this pup here couldn't take care of it..." Ryder observed. "Or… worse."
"Oh, you poor little thing..." Goodway whispered to the pup, who was continuing to whine and cry.
"C'mon, Marshall… hurry up..." Chase whispered to himself, quietly urging his friend to speed up from afar.
"It's only been five minutes, Chase. We need to give him a little more time." Ryder reassured. "Don't worry. Marshall's not slow. What about the tag?"
Chase took his owner's advice and moved over to the small, silvery tag. It was similarly scented and covered in unidentifiable muck, causing Chase to retch slightly when he put his nose near it, desperately wishing he had a sock to put over his muzzle. But Chase slowly conjured his willpower and focused on the filth-encrusted tag, being able to make out some letters.
"Hmm… This one's a little easier to make out." Chase observed absentmindedly. "But what is it? This pup's name? The name of one of its parents?"
"We don't have anything else on it, Chase." Goodway said. "What does the tag say?"
"It says… Z… U… M… A…?"
"'Zuma'?" Ryder parroted. "That's a funny name."
"I don't even know if that's a girl's name or a boy's name!" Chase complained. "If it's the pup's name, then how do we know if it's a boy or a girl?"
"I should be able to figure it out..." Ryder replied uncertainly.
"Huh? How?" Chase asked.
Ryder swallowed heavily. "Errrrrrr..." He really didn't want to answer that question, praying in vain that Chase wouldn't ask it.
"GUYS!" A voice startled them from down the hall. "I've got the milk!"
Ryder sighed heavily with relief, knowing that he'd just dodged a bullet. "Whew… Come on, Marshall! Get the lead out!" he called back. "I'm not sure how long this pup's- WHOA, HEY, CAREFUL!"
"Aaaaaaaaahhhh-!"
As Marshall came into view, carrying the six-pack of milk in his mouth, Ryder noticed that he was going much too fast. And in trying to slow down, the clumsy pup tripped over his own feet, dropping the milk and sending it sliding to the side of the room to be caught by Chase, with the dalmatian rolling to a halt right in front of his owner's feet, lying sprawled on the floor, with the milk being mostly-undamaged by the small dalmatian's falling over it.
"I'm good!" Marshall declared.
"Jeez…" Ryder mumbled, staring at the clumsy pup at his feet. "What are we gonna do with you? But thanks for hurrying, Marshall. Just make sure you watch out next time. We didn't want the milk to get crushed."
Marshall whimpered. "I'm sorry, Ryder, sir..."
Ryder reached and reassuringly patted his pup's head. "No, it's good, Marshall. But I need you to take more care with stuff like this. Got it?"
"Got it."
"Good pup." Ryder smiled down at Marshall, before moving to take the milk from Chase, who eagerly offered it up.
"OK… here goes."
As quickly as he could, Ryder took a somewhat-dented plastic bottle of milk out of the pack and hurriedly unscrewed the lid, taking the bottle that he'd prepared earlier and pouring the contents into the pup's bottle. All the while, the pups and Mayor Goodway watched intently, occasionally directing their gaze back towards the whimpering, hungry Zuma. Soon, Ryder got to his feet, bottle set to the side of the floor, reaching out towards Zuma, who tensed up as Ryder took the tiny pup in his arms.
"Shh, shh, shh… It's OK, little Zuma..." Ryder whispered. "I've got what you need."
Ryder slowly sat cross-legged on the floor, next to the bottle while setting the baby pup in his lap, reassuringly laying one hand on Zuma's head while reaching for the bottle. Strangely, upon hearing the name "Zuma", the pup calmed down slightly. They were slightly hesitant to drink from the bottle at first as Ryder brought it near, but when Zuma got a couple of drops in their mouth, the pup began to suckle. Slowly at first, but they quickly started to drink greedily from the bottle offered by Ryder, as the boy continued to stroke the pup's head.
"Ohh… Now that is just precious..." Mayor Goodway cooed.
For a five-year old, Ryder's paternal instinct was truly remarkable. He'd only been taking care of Chase by himself for a little while, and Marshall had only been with them for six months, but he had taken to caring for a baby pup like it was nothing at all. Even Chase and Marshall couldn't stop themselves from smiling as they watched the pup hungrily devour the milk in the bottle. Eventually, the pup drained the bottle, curling up in Ryder's arms with its eyes drifting closed. And on cue, Ryder lifted the pup to his shoulder, patting its back until it let out a soft, high-pitched belch, allowing Ryder to lower the pup back into his lap.
"Aww, look how happy it looks!" Goodway cooed again.
"Shhhh!" Marshall and Chase cautioned, noting how sleepy the pup looked.
"Hey, er, guys?" Ryder piped up quietly. "Could you all, er… look away for a sec?"
"Huh? Why?" Marshall whispered.
"Better do as he says, pups." Goodway advised.
In confusion, the pups turned away and stared at the wall, unable to see what Ryder was doing, only able to make out the odd scattered "Hmm..." and "Uhh..." from the boy.
"It's a boy." Ryder concluded. "You can all look now."
Everyone turned to look back at Ryder. "What did you do, Ryder, sir? How can you tell?" Chase whispered innocently.
"Errrrrrr…" Ryder stammered. "...I, err… I'll tell you when you're older."
Shrugging, Chase moved to Ryder's right side while Marshall took Ryder's left.
"So what should we do, Ryder?" Goodway asked quietly.
Ryder looked down at Zuma, who seemed to be struggling to keep his eyes open. But it was clear that he was happier than he'd been in a long time.
"I don't know…" he admitted. "...nobody's around who'd want a pup, right?"
Mayor Goodway bit her lip. "Not as far as I know. No-one's come to City Hall to adopt since, er..."
"Yeah." Ryder stopped her, aware of what she was likely about to say. That being that no-one came to adopt since Marshall's dad was adopted six months ago, with the young dalmatian staying behind with his new family. Knowing that it'd be a sore spot to mention with Marshall in the room, Ryder thought it best to end it there.
Ryder looked to his right to see Chase giving him a pleading expression, with eyes that could pierce the soul. He looked to his left to see Marshall doing the exact same thing. He'd never let them know it, but it was very easy to get to him with those kinds of eyes. Not that he needed to be gotten to. He had a feeling that he was on the same wavelength as the pups.
"...I'll take him."
Both Marshall and Chase gasped. "Really?!" they shouted with sparkles in their eyes.
"Shhhh!" Ryder and Mayor Goodway cautioned, prompting both pups to go rigid.
"He can live at the Lookout with us. He's got no-one else to love him." Ryder lifted the pup up to his face. "And I've got way more love to give."
Ryder was caught off-guard as Zuma licked his nose, still staring at him with a pair of sleepy, honey-coloured eyes. Ryder giggled as he kissed Zuma's nose.
"You think he can be part of the Paw Patrol?" Marshall asked.
"Not when he's that little, though!" Chase replied. "Still. Wonder what he could do?"
"Don't worry, pups." Ryder said warmly. "We've got all the time in the world to find a place for your new baby brother..."
"Excellent choice, Ryder…" Mayor Goodway praised. "Mind if I get a photo?"
"You know it." he replied, still smiling at the sleepy-eyed pup. As Mayor Goodway got her camera from her desk drawer, Ryder, knowing that he'd just found a new member of the Paw Patrol, tapped his index finger against Zuma's nose.
"Boop."
And now for something completely different. I don't think I've done an entire flashback chapter before now. Even Start Your Engines, which was almost entirely flashback (and also featured the backstory of every non-Zuma character), had cuts back to Chase and Marshall in the present day each chapter (unsubtle plug, nudge nudge, wink wink, say no more).
Zuma isn't really a character that I've had a great deal of focus on before, either. So how about an entire flashback to his baby years? It's not a whole story, but hopefully this corrects the balance somewhat. Incidentally, this is the very first chapter that I sent to Zojak for proofreading. He had a part in writing this too, so big thanks go out to him, too.
Anyway, this chapter was effectively an intermission, having little bearing on the current story (and mostly to give Zuma some love), but we'll be back to the present day next chapter. I hope you enjoyed this intermission. And as always, if you have been enjoying the story, please don't hesitate to leave a review or send a favourite my way. Thanks for listening, and I hope to see you Saturday.