Here Begins Book the First of The Great Year:

The Noble Tail of Bummer and Lazarus

"I ask in vain, you do not reply.

Then list to me and I'll tell you why:

Because we were what you would be,

A young republic - entirely free.

Cur Non?"

- Words of Bummer

San Francisco

"A Cur army! Why did it have to be a Cur army?" exclaimed a large Newfoundland-type dog as he sat at the end of an alleyway. He was, for the most part, black all about him, but his feet and the wide streak running from his muzzle to his stomach were both white. His face would have been friendly and kind, except for an unfortunate overbite which gave him the appearance of fierceness. Though surely, that was an emotion usually remote from his character, except when it could be demonstrated in a good cause. For he seemed to be a friend of good causes, a champion of the weak, a hero of the people. This was the mighty Bummer, of which so much has been said and written.

"It wasn't a Cur army. It was just a local militia," said his friend, a dog resembling somewhat a Greyhound or a Labrador. He was about as tall as his friend, if not an inch or two taller, but he was the skinniest and sickest-looking cur dog you'd have ever laid your eyes on. He was all bones and as he paced back and forth, his back leg moved with a slight limp. And he was yellow, the most sickly color of dark yellow imaginable. It seemed as though he had come back from the dead. For this reason, among others, it was fitting that his name was Lazarus.

"Led by a Cur officer," Bummer countered. "Why did they have to be led by a Cur officer? Now the whole nation is calling for blood! The papers are decrying the so-called 'Oregon massacre' and the representative from Sausalito wants to know what the government plans on doing to avenge this atrocity."

Lazarus chuckled. "Well, with all due respect to the eminent gentle-dog from Sausalito, he is a pint-sized little whelp of a Yorkie mix who pounces on anything the government does just to make himself look a little larger. We don't have to concern ourselves with him."

Bummer sighed. "Maybe not with him, but people are starting to ask questions. They are saying that the dignity of the Republic is forfeit if we don't redress this wrong. That the lives of our citizens up north are at risk if we don't make a show of force. There are even those who accuse us of not caring because we live in a large human city that the wolves would never dare attack. Those types talk of secession. I think we might need to send an army into the area just to keep the peace."

"Then what's the problem?" Lazarus asked. "Send in an army and be done with it."

Bummer shook his head wearily. "I just fear that it might become another tragedy like the Pit River. That should have never happened and if it hadn't been for a few cowboy generals, it never would have. After that happened, I can't help but wonder if we could ever have a moral right to do anything to those wolves."

"We do live in the Wild West," Lazarus said nonchalantly as he pulled a container of old Chinese from out a dumpster and began to pull out noodles from it.

"Save some for me," Bummer responded. "But it's not the 'Wild' West anymore. You know, sometimes I wish it still was. I wish it was 1862 all over again. You remember that year? You and me, fighting back-to-back, side by side to save the curs and found the republic."

"Glory days," Lazarus muttered as he tried to wave some soy sauce off his paw.

"Choices were simpler back then. You knew what right and wrong where. You knew what you had to do and you did it. Now everything's all jumbled and confused. I don't know what to think anymore. I don't even know what to do!" Bummer put his face in his paws. The weight of the world was upon him.

Lazarus now put down the Chinese take-out. His face became deathly serious, as deathly as the yellow color of his coat. "You must go north," he said.

"What?" Bummer looked at him in shock from between his paws.

"If you must send an army to the north, then, by all means, send an army," Lazarus explained. "But you must be the one to lead it. If you want this to go by well, without another Pit River fiasco, if you want this to end before the whole wolven people are annihilated, you must go north. Only a great dog, one that our forces trust and have absolute faith in, can rein in their most brutal instincts."

"We have plenty of capable generals," Bummer said. "Why must it be me?"

Lazarus approached and circled him. "Because no one is more beloved than you are. You know that this is hard enough for me to admit, but no one could ever be more beloved than you. When you speak, our people regard it as though a god has spoken. They may listen to the generals, but they revere you. Besides, your name is feared by all our enemies as much as it is loved by our people. I thing you would only have to raise your banner in Oregon and the wolves will retreat and surrender. It can only be you."

Bummer rose to his four feet. "You're right, Lazarus, of course. It has to be me."

Lazarus nodded wistfully as Bummer walked past. "Yes, it has to be you, as always. I'll just stay here in San Francisco and keep the ship of state from hitting running aground, shall I?" From the tone of his voice, he was not thrilled with the idea.

Bummer put his paw on Lazarus' shoulder. "Nonsense. I fear that these wolves may be up to more than we suspect. In which case, we shall need your famous cunning to get us through."

Then he smiled. "Besides, what would Damon be without Pythias?"

Lazarus smiled back as he grasped the import of these words.

The historical Bummer and Lazarus were two cur dogs of the 1860s who became San Francisco legends for their unique and unbreakable bond of friendship. If you want to learn more about them, then you might want to check out Malcolm E. Barker's excellent biography, Bummer and Lazarus: San Francisco's Famous Dogs, which reproduces all of the news stories that chronicled their adventures.

The quote at the top comes from the poem "Cur Non? A Growl Form the Pound" which first appeared in the June 11, 1862 edition of the Daily Evening Bulletin and addressed a controversial anti-cur law. It was, indeed, attributed to Bummer.

Events transpire faster than the Cascadians would like. But what does this all mean for Lilly?

Read on.