Angel On Earth- A Dog Novel

13🐾 A Better Father

The puppies followed her back from Kiwi's burial site early the next morning. The mother-dog knew she had reached the end of her stay with Kiwi's body.

Copper and Finn had pestered her with so many questions. Why won't Kiwi move? What's dead mean? Why are we putting Kiwi underground?

Gypsy stared sullenly at the ground as she recalled her bitter answer to their questions. They had quieted.

Dead means gone forever.

The small family had made it about halfway back when an uplifting breeze picked up, sweeping through Gypsy's fur and bringing with it the tang of rain.

"Let's hurry back before it rains," she urged. Copper looked up at his mother with a shy smile, trotting closer. "Okay, Mum. I miss Kiwi and Star though..." He trailed off, his fluffy puppy ears twitching.

Finn jogged forward with a wagging puppy tail, sidling up to his brother and nuzzling his cheek to provide reassurance. "It's alright. Mommy will take care of us, and you have me. Ooh, can we play the stick game on our way back?" Finn twisted his neck to look pleadingly at his mother.

She gave a weak smile. Sweet Finn knew how to cheer up any situation, and she wouldn't bash her son for trying. "Sure." Gypsy told her pups to first find two separate sticks. When they brought her them, she rewarded the finder of the biggest stick with a back-ride. They squealed in glee.

Somehow playing with her two remaining male puppies lifted her grief. Gypsy's shoulders felt less heavy, her heart less destroyed. At least I have them. And I won't let anything happen to them. They'll never leave my sight again.

With determination, she plodded on through the rain. Her puppies seemed unbothered by it, although they had to borderline scream to be heard over the swaying of the trees.

As she pushed into camp, she was buffeted by the fierce winds that swept under the treetops and trough the glade. A dripping North stood there, eyes locked onto Gypsy before she even entered.

"I heard about your pup Kiwi." The white Pitbull halted beside a massive oak tree and stared back.

Is that all? Isn't an "I'm sorry" supposed to come after that? Yet none did. North simply glanced down at Gypsy's muddied paws.

What a weirdo. She turned away to head for her den, wondering if Bronx was still on patrol.

"Wait. I had a favor to ask." As Gypsy swiveled abruptly on her toes, North beseechingly continued.

"If you're capable of helping anyone other than yourself, that is." Taken aback, the Pitbull's lips twitched across her teeth at the rebuke.

"I fed Obelisk when I was here... and before I had pups I was cleaning out the dens and uprooting brambles to keep it clean around here." Feeling rebuked, Gypsy let a defensive snarl creep into her voice.

The bushes rustled and Ace pushed his way through, twitching his ears to rid them of raindrops.

Yet Gypsy wasn't done.

"And by the way... you've hardly even talked to me since I arrived. What makes you think I'd even do you a favor?"

Maliciously, North bared her teeth. They were stark in contrast compared to her inky black pelt.

"The fact that you've hardly pulled your weight, except to be a plaything for Bronx."

Offended, the fur on Gypsy's neck rose. The nerve! She pushed her two male pups behind her as she sidled up to the female.