Between Wild and Home
by Andrew Moore
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Table of Contents parts 1, 2, 3 |
conclusion
Momma slunk back into the alleyway and found Creeper running up the alley. “Three houses down!” she said. “Garbage can is full. I think they had family over a couple of nights back.”“That’s good news. We should...” Momma smelled it. Exactly as Baron described it. Mange. Mixed with dry blood and strange dirt. “We need to get back to the crawlspace.”
Creeper and Momma bounded down the alley but stopped short. It was the dog with dirty white fur, one of the wild dogs who had killed Runt’s mother. There was a mad, reckless look in his eyes. He snarled, and jumped at Momma, pinning her to the ground.
Momma thrashed around, scratching and biting the dog. The dog couldn’t get a hold on Momma, but a canine tooth caught her side, tearing a hole. Momma screamed with pain.
Creeper felt powerless and did the only thing she could. She raced back to the crawlspace for help.
Momma scratched wildly with all four sets of claws, tearing up the dog’s belly. The dog yelped with pain and staggered off the cat. Momma scurried away, finding shelter between a utility pole and a fence post.
A howl pierced the air. The dog snapped his head toward the sound. He looked around wildly for the cat. A second howl sounded, and the dog ran away, down the alley.
Momma collected her thoughts. She was alive. She was bleeding, but she was alive. The dog was gone.
“Momma?” A cold nose brushed against her. It was Runt.
“I’m hurt. I need help.”
Runt bobbed his head, glancing up and down the alley. He was afraid. “What do I do?”
“The Kims. Help me to the Kims.”
“I don’t know where that is.”
Creeper poked her head into Momma’s shelter. “I can show him the way.”
Momma gingerly crawled out. The dog had broken one of her legs. “I can’t walk.”
“I can carry you.”
Momma felt Runt’s hot, wet mouth wrap gently around her. “Easy,” she said. “I have a wound.”
Runt adjusted his grip and lifted Momma off the ground. Creeper led him around the corner, to the Kims’ front door. Runt lowered Momma to the mat.
“I’m so sorry, Momma... I should have been there to protect you...”
“Hush now, Runt. You need to get back to the crawlspace.”
The front door opened. Runt looked up. A very angry person was yelling at him. She had some sort of stick in her hand with bristles on the end. She opened the screen door a crack and pushed the stick at him. He backed away, and with one last look at Momma, darted off.
* * *
Winter came. Baron spent most of his time indoors. Creeper spent most of her time camped out in the flower bed, hoping to catch him. When he was finally let outside, she got a full report.
The Kims thought Runt had attacked Momma. Baron lamented that he couldn’t speak their language, to clear things up.
Momma was recovering. The Kims rushed her to something called “the vet,” where people took care of her. Baron talked of “the vet” as a dark, mysterious place, where it smells funny, and strange people poke at you and, when you leave, you feel better. It sounded like magic to Creeper.
Momma was healing and, to Creeper’s great surprise, wearing a collar. Baron promised to pass along Creeper’s well-wishes for a speedy recovery. That wasn’t quite what Creeper had said, but Baron had a way with words.
Ever since dropping Momma off at the Kims’, Runt had been more restless than usual. He wanted to do something: find the dog who did that to Momma and...
He never finished the thought out loud. When he got like this — which was frequently — the others gave him a wide berth. At times, they were frightened of him. He was getting bigger with each passing day. He was more solitary, no longer sleeping with his brothers, instead making a den in Momma’s corner.
Creeper scouted alone. She kept an eye out for the dog with the dirty white fur. Every now and again she could smell him, but he kept out of sight.
One snowy night, after the scrounging was done for the evening, Creeper took herself for a walk past the Kims’. The house was decorated with tiny glowing lights. The windows, too, were aglow, and the warmth of the home seemed like it should melt the snow blanketing the ground. Creeper edged up to a window and peered in.
Inside, she saw the Kim family. Mother was holding a baby, Father was on the floor with Ella Kim. The young miss was wearing a gown of some sort, with a sparkling crown on her head. She was spinning around, and Father was laughing. And there, next to Ella Kim, looking up at the girl with an expression of pure love, was Momma.
Creeper was happy that Momma was happy. She was safe and healthy and secure. At the same time, it reminded her of the little boy who had lost her, and made her think of what could have been.
* * *
At first, winter is a bountiful time. It can be bitterly cold, and yet the people feast like no other time of the year. The garbage cans are full of the most delicious leftovers. And then, around the time the lights come down from the houses and the ground is frozen solid, the feasting abruptly ends. This is the hardest time of the year for the animals who survive off of the people.
And then the spring comes. The snow melts, the trees leaf, and life goes on.
With the snow gone, Momma began to spend time outdoors. Ella Kim always seemed to be outside when Momma was, making it nearly impossible for Creeper to speak with her.
Baron’s rules for the rat were simple: Don’t go in the house, don’t approach my family. As old as he was, she didn’t doubt the unspoken threat if she broke his rules.
It was a great surprise when Creeper found Momma in the alley.
“Hey, Creeper...”
The rat stopped and looked up. Momma was perched atop a garbage can. She looked great. Healed from the dog attack, her fur was growing back in where he had injured her. She was clean and a little plump.
“Momma! I’m so happy to see you! I mean, I’ve seen you, through the window and from the fence when you were in the backyard. But it’s good to see you.”
“It’s good to see you, too. How is my pack?”
Creeper filled her in on the details. Everyone was healthy, weathering the winter just fine. Food was plentiful. There was a skunk that had been hovering around during their raids, and she was thinking about reaching out and inviting her to join them.
The dog with dirty fur was roving mad through the winter. The people in the trucks were out from time to time trying to find him. There had been some near scrapes, both with the wild dog and the people, but Creeper kept a watchful eye.
Fidget and Wormy readily accepted Creeper as the new pack leader, in place of Momma. Runt was sullen and aloof. Some nights, he would take off on his own, and the others could hear his plaintive howls in the distance.
Once or twice, there was a sort of echo, perhaps a response to Runt’s call. Creeper hoped that he was sounding out his coyote family and would choose to leave on his own. Fidget was now deathly afraid of Runt but played it off with jokes. Wormy largely avoided him.
Momma took all this in. “I heard howling. I wondered if it was Runt.”
“Momma,” Creeper said, delicately searching for the right words, “are you coming back to us? I miss you, we all miss you. The boys have accepted me, but I’m no replacement for you. You held us together, and it’s a big job.”
Momma turned her head back toward the Kims’ backyard.
Creeper sighed. “And Runt. I have no idea what to do. I think he wants to return to the woods; he’s just waiting for a push. I don’t know how to give him what he needs.”
Momma hopped down. She had a slight limp now. She sat with Creeper. “I’ve been tired for a very long time. I didn’t realize how tired until I woke up in a bed.” Momma chuckled and shook her head. “A bed. Can you imagine? But I know I don’t belong in a house. Not anymore.” Momma lowered her head and pressed her forehead against the rat. “The young miss loves me, and I’m going to break her heart.”
Momma straightened up. “Tell the boys I’m coming home. I don’t know when, but it will be soon.”
* * *
The rain started on Creeper’s walk back to the crawlspace. She hated raiding in the rain, but the garbage trucks would be through tomorrow, and there was sustenance to be had. Fidget and Wormy were overjoyed to hear that Momma was coming back.
Runt sulked in his corner. “She should stay with the people. She’s safer there.”
“Yeah, but she’s part of our pack!” Fidget shook his head. You couldn’t talk to Runt when he was like this.
“Something’s eating that kid,” Wormy whispered to Fidget. “More than usual, I mean.”
“Maybe it’s the rain. Maybe he’s smelling something we can’t. Who knows?”
The rain eased up by sunset. Creeper led the pack out into the alleys. Runt was on high alert. Ears perked, he kept rotating his head around, as if he was tracking something. This put Creeper on edge.
Fidget and Wormy worked together to topple a garbage can with half a spinach casserole in the bottom. Creeper swiped a mouthful for herself and scaled a fence post. Runt stood away from the rest of them, eyes fixed on the shadows at the end of the alley.
“Hey kid, you gotta eat,” said Fidget with a mouthful of casserole. “This stuff is great. Lots of cheese.”
“I love cheese,” agreed Wormy. “Do you remember that wheel of cheese from a couple years back?”
“That was good stuff. Moldy!”
Runt’s hackles were raised, and he was growling.
Fidget stopped eating. “What do you see, Runt?”
“Maybe it’s that skunk again,” said Wormy, lazily sitting up.
A long, silent moment passed. Runt turned back to Fidget and Wormy. “There’s something out there. I can hear it.”
“You can hear anything over this drizzle?” Fidget shook his head. “Come on, kid. Fill your belly and we’ll head back home where we don’t have to worry about hearing anything other than Wormy snoring.”
“I don’t snore. Do I snore?”
Runt turned back to the shadows. With a grunt, he walked away from the others, into the darkness.
“That kid, I tell you, Wormy. I don’t think I was ever that hardheaded.”
Creeper hopped back down to the others. “This was just the appetizer, boys. There’s meatloaf a couple of doors down.”
The pack moved on down the alley. There was something unmistakable in the air. The rain was largely washing out any smells, but something was out there. “You know,” said Wormy, “I suddenly realized how much I don’t like shadows.”
They heard the dog before they saw him. They heard his pacing, his growling and whining. Wormy fell over. Fidget turned to his friend, to pull him out of the alley. That’s when the dog attacked.
Fidget screeched. It was a sound Creeper had never heard him make, and it startled her. She bolted to the nearest fence line and scurried under it.
It was the dog with dirty white fur. He had a hold on Fidget and was shaking him violently. Fidget continued to screech, clawing at the dog, but the dog was latched on tight. Wormy lay nearby, frozen in fear, desperate to do something, but physically unable to move.
The dog released Fidget and hovered over him. He placed a paw on Fidget’s chest and leaned down to his face, licking his bloodied mouth.
A dark gray mass of fur charged the dog, ripping him from Fidget. The dog hit a garbage can and yelped.
From her hideout, Creeper saw a sight that was more frightening than she thought possible. Runt’s hackles were up, his lips pulled back to reveal his full set of teeth, his eyes glowing with rage.
The dog got to his feet. They rounded on each other. The dog was growling, but Runt was making a sound somewhere between a bark and a howl. Runt lunged again. The dog bolted down the alley, rounding the corner, with Runt in pursuit.
Wormy rolled to his feet and scrambled over to Fidget.
“What d’ya think, Wormy?” Fidget was gasping for air, his fur matted with blood. “Bet I... bet I can play dead better than you.”
He was hurt. Bad. All Wormy could do was stroke his friend’s forehead. “I’m not gonna take that bet.”
Fidget closed his eyes for a moment and tried to swallow back the pain. He reopened his eyes and found Wormy.
“You’re a good friend. You’ve always been a good friend.” His eyes, once so bright and playful, were growing dim.
Wormy gently scratched Fidget’s nose and whispered, “You were my only friend.” But it was too late. Fidget was gone.
Runt caught up to the dog where the neighborhood met the treeline and nipped at his legs. He made contact, biting and pulling the dog to the ground. The dog bit, tearing a gash in Runt’s neck. Runt threw his head back in pain but responded with increased fury.
Lightning-fast, Runt had his jaws wrapped around the dog’s neck, crushing his windpipe. Runt tasted the dog’s blood and felt the life drain from his body. He gave the dog one last shake, to make sure it was dead.
Out of breath, trembling from the adrenaline, Runt released his hold on the dog’s neck.
“Runt...”
The coyote reeled around. “Momma.” He was manic, pacing.
“It’s okay. It’s all okay now.”
“He hurt Fidget. He probably killed him.”
“It’s over.”
Runt collapsed to the ground. He could see the lights turn on in the nearby houses. Momma walked up to him and pressed her body against his. “I’m here now, baby boy. It’s okay.”
“Baby boy...” Runt looked into her eyes. “You haven’t called me that since the night you saved me.”
“I call you that all the time. I just don’t say it out loud.”
Runt closed his eyes. His breathing grew steady. “People are coming.”
“They are. Runt, listen to me. You need to go back to the woods. You need to find your pack. This place is not safe for you.”
Runt rose, towering over Momma. He lowered his head submissively. “Are you going back to your family?”
Momma’s ears twitched. “They’re not my family.”
“You’re wearing their collar.” He shifted his stance. “I can take care of that for you.”
Momma shook her head, and the collar jingled. She stepped up to Runt and extended her neck. “Be careful.”
Momma felt Runt’s warm breath on her neck. His teeth slid gently inside the collar. With a snap, it was off.
Runt turned away. “I need to leave before the people come.”
“Runt,” Momma called after him, “what you did was very brave. I’m proud of you.”
“I should’ve stayed with them. I could’ve saved him.”
“You came back. That’s all that matters.”
Runt looked up at the sky, and for a moment Momma thought he was going to howl. “Of course I came back.” He turned back to the cat. “You’re my pack.”
There were voices in the distance. People. Runt glanced in their direction, hackles raising.
“You have to go.”
Runt gave Momma one last look and bolted into the wilderness.
* * *
Summer came, and Momma was back with her patchwork pack. She was content to let Creeper take the lead on scouting missions. It amused her when the rat gave her instructions. But it seemed right. Creeper had grown into the role; and she was a very smart and shrewd rat.
The skunk that had been stalking them became a member of the pack. Momma named her Jet, for her beautiful jet-black fur. The integration was a bit rough at first. It took some time for Wormy to warm to the new member but, in time, they became fast friends.
Baron died in the autumn. Momma desperately wanted to comfort Ella Kim but felt that dropping back into her life would be too cruel. The Kims brought a new puppy into their home, and Momma watched from a distance as the young miss fell in love again.
The puppy enjoyed chasing and barking at Momma.
The seasons passed.
Years later, Momma saw a coyote at the corner of Walnut and Collins. She wasn’t sure that it was Runt, and she knew better than to approach a strange coyote. She crouched in the shadows, watching the lone coyote sniff the air. Was he looking for something? Could it be Runt after all?
The coyote looked lost. Then came a distant call, and the coyote turned back to the wilderness. For a moment, Momma thought she saw the scar left by the wild dog, the night Fidget died. She stood up to call out to him but, in a flash, he was gone, back to the wilderness and the call of his pack.
Copyright © 2025 by Andrew Moore
