Free Waggit Forever by Peter Howe

wasn’t dark yet, but soon would be. The sounds of the summer evening filled the still, moist air. People were sitting on balconies and fire escapes,or congregating in the street beyond the wire fence. Loud music and the smell of barbecue drifted into the boxes where the dogs lay hidden.
    â€œWhy are we all still in here?” asked Waggit. “Why don’t we go outside, where it must be cooler?”
    â€œBecause Cicero and Pilodus told us not to,” replied the ever-obedient Gordo.
    â€œDid they say why?” Waggit asked impatiently.
    â€œThey said that some of the Uprights who live in the buildings can look into this area, and if they saw all of us milling around here, they would get the Ruzelas,” Magica explained. “They said it would be better if we wait until it’s completely dark before coming out.”
    â€œAnd this rule doesn’t apply to them? We have to do as they say, like always,” growled Waggit grumpily. Neither Ductor was around.
    â€œNo,” said Alona, “they went off to their stash to get some food for us. I hope they’re okay. It’s pretty risky out in the open at this time of the darkening, ’specially if you’re dragging back food.”
    When he listened to Alona, Waggit realized two things—first how hungry he was and second how ashamed he was of his outburst. He decided that one must have caused the other, but even so, he wasembarrassed at having reacted so immaturely.
    â€œI wish they’d hurry up,” Little One chimed in. “I’m starving.”
    Waggit turned around and cautiously stuck his head out of the box. He looked around for the receptor but couldn’t see him at first. Then there was a movement in a clump of ragweed close to the boxes.
    â€œYou’re awake, I see” came the voice of the receptor. “How did you sleep?”
    â€œUncomfortably,” replied Waggit, “but well enough under the circumstances.”
    â€œI apologize,” said the receptor. “The trouble is that when we built this haven, we never thought we’d have to house so many dogs. We thought one or two would be the most at any one time.”
    â€œI understand,” said Waggit. “It’s good of you to help us in this way.”
    â€œIt is, isn’t it?” said the receptor. “I honestly don’t know why we do it sometimes. We hardly ever get any thanks. Still, it passes the time, I suppose. Better than just hanging around getting on each other’s nerves.”
    â€œWhere are Cicero and Pilodus?” asked Waggit.
    â€œThey’ll be back soon,” replied the receptor. “They’ve already made two runs to the stash, and they still hadto go back for more. That’s another thing we never thought we’d have to do—feed so many dogs.”
    The longer the conversation went on, the worse Waggit felt. It also occurred to him that if anything happened to the two Ductors while they were getting the food, he and his group would be stuck. They had no idea where the new park was, or how to get there. The thought made him very nervous.
    He was thoroughly relieved, then, when he saw Cicero and Pilodus return, one of them carrying a slab of spare ribs. Waggit wondered whether he would have to eat spare ribs for the rest of his life. Until recently he’d never had one; now that was all he seemed to consume. They were tasty, but they did prove that sometimes you could have too much of a good thing.
    As soon as they considered it dark enough for the Tazarians to leave the boxes, the Ductors assembled all the food they had brought and divided it up among their guests. They insisted that they had eaten at the stash, and this was all for the Tazarians and the receptor. The meal was the usual strange mix of city food that the dogs had now become used to. Waggit was surprised at how much he missed freshly killed meat, especially because he had been so reluctant