She dropped to her knees and began pushing him away with a straight arm and the flat of her hand each time he leaped on her, snarling and growling but only barely nipping at her with his teeth. Even so, he played rough, thrusting his full muscular body weight against her. More than once he almost knocked her over.
He continued scrambling around her to throw her off center. Then when he had found a weak spot, he’d nip in and grab her coat or hoodie and tug in a kind of catch-and-release tag. Her coat would be in tatters if she allowed him to continue. But his playfulness was a good sign. The first from Oleg that signified that he was adjusting. She was becoming more than another alpha he was trained to obey. They were becoming friends.
Determined to defend herself in a playful way, she grabbed up handfuls of snow and packed them into a ball to toss at him.
Sensing this was a new game, Oleg leaped up to catch the snowball in his mouth. It disintegrated and he was left switching his head left and right, as if he expected to see it bouncing away. She quickly made a new one and tossed it. Again Oleg stretched up in a graceful leap to snatch it out of the air. This time it hit him full mouth and shattered, pasting his muzzle in flakes. He shook it off and barked, ready to go again.
She threw three more before he went still and swiveled his head, listening. After a second, he turned away from her, tail curving up and ears going forward.
Yardley paused to follow his gaze. This time he stared at the bunkhouse. She frowned. Kye had been prepared to bunk there the day before but had ended up sleeping beneath her roof. And she in his bed.
Just the thought gave her a hot rush she had to work to ignore. Not now, she told her unreliable emotions. She needed space from all things Kye.
She glanced back at Oleg. He was growling, low. The ridge hair on his back had lifted. High alert.
She glanced back toward the house. Instinct told her to go and get Kye. She slapped the instinct down because she was certain that it was more about an excuse to be near him again than it was about the need for help. She’d never hesitated to walk her property before. She wasn’t going to ask for help now. Not when she had Oleg with her. “Oleg. Knoze!”
He assumed the heel position so that she could reattach his leash. But he never fully broke concentration on the bunkhouse, glancing from her to it and back, waiting for a command to search. A rill of anxiety snaked up her spine. Could there really be something going on there? Occasionally hikers cut through her property when they thought no one was about. Once, when all the staff was away, local teenagers had broken into the empty bunkhouse to drink beer and party. She’d returned to find a dozen underage drinkers being held hostage by two of the Belgian Malinoises who’d freed themselves to patrol the kennel grounds. K-9s were nothing if not resourceful.
She hadn’t trusted Oleg yesterday, to her regret. But Oleg was in stealth mode now.
Feeling the first pump of adrenaline, she patted her pocket for her phone. It was there. If she needed help, it was a speed dial away. She could do this, inspect her own property. Meanwhile, no trespasser, if there was one, would get past Oleg to her.
She found the main door to the bunkhouse unlocked. Another bump of excitement pumped up her heartbeat. She wouldn’t have thought Kye was the type to leave a door unlocked. But perhaps in all the excitement of the night before he had forgotten. She ran a gloved hand over the latch. It did not feel jimmied. She pushed the door a little wider.
Oleg was there before her, wedging his strong lean body through the opening. Unlike a police K-9 who would have announced his presence with ferocious barking, Oleg simply simmered on low growl. Covert on alert.
Czech wolfdogs didn’t protect property. They would watch a thief steal everything in a house, empty but for them. But if a wolfdog perceived ill will in someone sneezing in the direction of his handler, the sneezer might need a lot more than a tissue to mop up the response. Oleg was reacting to someone. Not something.
Yardley kept a tight grip on the leash he was straining against. Along with her growing anxiety she realized she felt a rush of excitement. Though she’d taught hundreds how to, she’d never actually cornered a suspect in real life. Those who can’t, teach. What a stupid cliché. She could so do this. She needed this. After Stokes, she was determined to prove to herself she could face anything, when prepared. Oleg’s presence would be enough to hold an intruder at bay, if need be.
I’ve got this.
In some unexpected kind of way, the night before was spurring her courage now. She was nervous but that didn’t mean she would live in fear. It wasn’t her style.