Free Sky Wolves by Livi Michael Page A

leaf, he stuck his nose in the air so that he could follow Jenny’s scent, then trotted quickly to the end of the path. The gate was closed, but he just slipped under it and he was out on the pavement, tracking a scent, alone and free for the first time in his life.
    ∗
    Gentleman Jim lay asleep on his rug by the fire. He had started to dream, a wonderful, exciting dream about being led into battle and running alongside a chariot with soldiers, their swords and shields flashing in the sun, when he was woken by the sound of voices at the front door.
    ‘No, Gordon,’ one of the voices was saying. ‘I won’t come in – not while you’ve still got that disgusting hound.’
    Gentleman Jim twitched all over convulsively. It was the one voice he had hoped never to hear again – Maureen’s.
    ‘It’s for the best, Gordon,’ she said. ‘He’s getting too old to enjoy life now.’
    Gentleman Jim didn’t know what she was talking about, but he was suddenly absolutely sure that he needed to know. He struggled to his feet, which wasn’t easy, since his rear end seemed to want to go a different way from his front, and just as he’d got his hips locked into position his knees buckled. But once he was up, he crept as quietly as he could into the hallway, only knocking over a coffee table and two lamps on the way.
    He could see his owner and Maureen through the glass in the vestibule door, talking earnestly.
    ‘It’s a kindness really,’ Maureen was saying. ‘It can’t be any fun being that old. How are you going to look after him when he needs full-time care?’
    Gordon hung his head. As usual, when Maureen was talking, he seemed to have no capacity to assert himself. She fiddled with a button on his shirt.
    ‘We could be so happy together, just the two of us,’ she murmured. ‘I’m sure if you ask the vet, he’ll agree with me.’
    Vet? thought Gentleman Jim. That was one of his least favourite words. He could even spell it, since Gordon had taken to saying V-E-T in his presence.
    ‘It’s only one little injection,’ she said. ‘He won’t feel a thing.’
    Slowly, the full horror of what Maureen was saying sank in.
    No! thought Gentleman Jim. Don’t let her get to you! Send her packing!
    But Gordon seemed to be mesmerized by Maureen’s eyes.
    ‘Promise me you’ll take him,’ she said.
    ‘Well, I – I – ’ Gordon said, and Gentleman Jim nearly bit through the coat stand in frustration.
    Tell her you’ll take her to the vet’s, he thought furiously, as Maureen rested her cheek on Gordon’s shoulder.
    ‘It’s for his own good,’ Maureen said.
    Gordon murmured, ‘I suppose so.’
    Gentleman Jim stared at them both in disbelief. He felt a long shudder, from his tail bone to the top of his skull. He had heard enough. He didn’t know when he’d felt more desolate or betrayed. He turned away, blundering blindly back into the living room.
    He would have to leave, he thought. But how?
    When Gordon finally came in, he couldn’t look at Gentleman Jim, but Gentleman Jim stared accusingly at Gordon, his outraged gaze following him round the room.
    ‘What?’ said Gordon finally, then, ‘Stop looking at me like that!’
    The clock ticked loudly in the quiet room, and GentlemanJim was horribly aware that each tick was bringing him closer to the end of his life. Suddenly Gordon put away his paper and stretched, and remained for a moment staring at the ceiling.
    ‘Shall we go for a walk?’ he said, looking at last towards Gentleman Jim.
    The big dog stared at him. Gordon was a creature of habit and never went out for a walk at this time. He might almost have said one last time, thought Gentleman Jim, but he was also aware that this was an opportunity and so he thumped his tail slowly on the floor.
    Then once again, while Gordon got his coat and boots, Gentleman Jim struggled to his feet. He was a warrior, he told himself, remembering his dreams of battle. He would not be so easily defeated. He didn’t