Free Chasing Her Tail by Katie Allen Page B

scrambling out of the small ditch, she gingerly walked the first few steps, testing to see if anything was truly injured. Although it hurt, the leg was able to support its share of her weight, so she moved forward, determined to get to town before it got dark. She could feel the slow trickle of blood dampening her fur and running down the side of her paw. Squashing another rush of panic, Bridget tried to reassure herself by reasoning that the flow of blood was good since it would wash out the bacteria from the rusty wire.
    As she tried to remember when her last tetanus booster had been, Bridget decided the danger of the road couldn’t be worse than dogs and barbed wire. She could hear the occasional rumble and whoosh of traffic in the distance and she changed course to intersect the road.
    Everything looked grainy and gray as dusk began to fall. Bridget increased her speed to a trot, hopping quickly off the injured hind leg with each stride. She could see the road, an asphalt interruption of ditch weeds, and saw that drivers had turned on their headlights. Falling in next to the road but far enough away to be out of direct sight, Bridget ran toward the town of Myra.
    Her leg throbbed each time it moved and her stomach clenched in hunger. She began to doubt her decision—why hadn’t she stayed at her house and called the cops on those men? She didn’t know where she was headed, only that Myra had looked decent enough. Once she did arrive, Bridget wasn’t sure what she planned on doing there.
    She’d like to go back to her house but she was afraid that someone was watching it.
    One of the burglars had said her car was being monitored. She realized that, as she’d been thinking, her limping jog had slowed to a walk. Speeding up again, Bridget pressed on.
    When the first raindrops hit, she wanted to cry. Only the thought that it might draw the attention of other dogs, wolves or people stopped her from throwing back her head and howling. Instead, she lowered her head, shook herself and trudged on. The drizzle was heavy enough to send rivulets through her thick fur that tickled as they ran down her body. Her injury stung as the water touched it, although the cool liquid did feel good against the inflamed skin around the cuts.
    With her tail and head tucked, she almost walked right into the wall of a house.
    Peering through the falling rain, Bridget saw there were several houses bordering the street. With a shuddering sigh of relief, she realized she’d made it to Myra.
    44
    Title

    Micah made Sam’s favorite after-school snack—celery with peanut butter, washed down by milk with a couple strawberries as a chaser. The little boy just poked at his food though, turning one piece of celery upside-down and squishing it onto the other one. Micah watched Sam, suddenly struck by how much the boy looked like Joey. “Did you see her?” Sam asked his mashed-together food.
    “Yeah,” Micah said, thinking of the dog that had dashed away after glimpsing him.
    “She mad at me?”
    “I haven’t talked to her yet.”
    “Oh.” One small finger poked at the peanut butter.
    “Your dad’s coming tonight.”
    That brought Sam’s head up. “Yeah?”
    Micah smiled. “Yeah. He’s going to pick you up and take you on a trip.”
    The light behind Sam’s eyes dimmed as quickly as it had brightened. Dropping his head, he resumed poking at his food.
    “What?” Micah asked the top of the boy’s head.
    “Is it…because of what I did?” Sam finally asked.
    “Of course not,” Micah told him. “It’s not a punishment. You get to go somewhere warm with a beach. We’ll have to remember to pack your swim trunks.”
    Sam looked at him but even the promise of swimming hadn’t lightened his expression. “Are you coming too?”
    “I can’t.” Micah shook his head. “I have to find Brid— I mean, Ms. Grace.”
    “Oh.” Sam traced peanut butter loops on his plate with his finger.
    Looking at the brown swirls around the uneaten