Bending, I try to snatch it with my mouth, but my teeth bite into air. I struggle to lean back a little farther. There! There! On my way! I snap again, but every time I think I get it, my hind legs move of their own accord, and I miss it by inches. I’m chasing my tail around myself until Riley’s fit of laughter makes me stop abruptly.
Hey, just so we’re clear, I’m not one of those hyped-up pups, too stupid to know it’s not their own tail, okay? I’m just trying to make it stay still. Totally different thing.
Still cheerfully shaking with laughter, Riley grabs the keys from the wall and unlocks the gate. “C’mon, boy, come out! Before you get giddy in there.” She slaps her thigh. I swear I can do nothing about the squeal that escapes me as I jump around her in sheer excitement, my tongue lolling out. Fuuuck!
Taking the torch from the wall, she leads the way out, running her fingers through the fur on the top of my head as I struggle to calm myself beside her.
As we trot out into daylight, it feels as if I’ve been kept underground for days. Which probably was the case. Head lifted, I draw in a really deep breath. Holy Gingerbread Man, what a delight! Until the rays of the late-morning sun tickle my nose, and I sneeze. Twice.
“Come on, you big, bad puppy dog,” Riley teases me and starts running across the meadows of Castle Grove toward the forest. Immediately, I sprint after her, and when I catch up with the rolling red bundle and nudge her bottom with my snout, her laughter echoes across the lowlands.
Behind the borders of the forest where the light is cooler and darker, her jog slows to a gentle stroll. She clearly has to catch her breath from giggling so much. While I take a deep drink from the little stream beside the path, Riley plucks an apple from a tree and tosses it a few times into the air, always catching it smoothly again with one hand.
As we amble on together, my gaze remains transfixed on the fruit. She doesn’t bite into it, just keeps throwing it into the air. Hopefully, it’ll drop. Then it’s mine.
“What?” she coos, smiling down at me. Her hand with the apple lowers in front of my nose. “You want this?”
Feverish, I skip in front of her. Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!
Her grin gets wider as she hauls back her arm. “Okay, go fetch!” The next second, she pitches the fruit forward, straight into the woods, and then pulls her arm behind her back.
Holy moly! I whirl around, sprinting three steps forward. Then I stop, my gaze darting to the underbrush. Eyes wide, my heart races, but instinct makes me shoot back to Riley, and I prance before her. Did you throw it? Did you throw it? Frowning, I glance at the bushes again. I didn’t hear it land. Come on, you still have it behind your back, right? Do you? Do you? Exhilarated, I snoop inside her cloak. Where is it?
“Oh my Goodness, Jack!” Riley falls to the ground and rolls with laughter. And there is the apple, still in her hand. I knew it!
“You’ll probably want to kill me for this when you finally get back to your senses,” she chirps between her giggly hiccups, “but you really should see yourself right now!”
Ha, ha. Very funny. I step over her and lick her face.
“Ew! Lay off! You’re disgusting!” Dropping the fruit, she shoves at my head with both hands, turning her face away. It won’t help her. She gets a proper licking. And if she laughs any harder, I might have to give her mouth-to-mouth, too.
But then a rustle in the bushes raises my hackles, and I lift my head.
Riley stops pushing at me and tilts her head, too. “What is it?”
Shh.
“Jack?”
Shhhh!
There! Something moved between the hazels. All my senses on high alert, I wait another second for the next rustle, then I sprint forward, targeting whatever is hiding in the thicket.
It smells of deer. And it’s got antlers. Boah! An elk! Am I a lucky bastard or what?
Panic-stricken, the elk bleats as I catch it from the side and run it over. We roll across the moss until I’m on top again, holding it down with my paws. Okay, it’s smaller than I thought. Maybe not an elk. But a fine meal anyway.
“Jack? Where are you?” Riley’s voice drifts through the bushes shortly before she emerges. Dusting some weeds off her body, she walks forward with a proud smile. “Ah, you caught yourself a—” The smile disappears.
Why does she look so serious now?
Coming closer, her shocked gaze lights on my prey. “Is this Rudolph?”
A reindeer? Yeah, from the stark smell, it might be one. But don’t worry, we’ll roast it over the fire, and it’ll taste wonderful.
“Goodness gracious! You can’t eat one of Santa’s reindeers!”
Why not? He’s got enough of them.
“Jack! Let him go! This is Rudolph. The Rudolph!”
You call it Rudolph. I call it lunch.
Riley taps her foot with impatience. Whining, I shake my head, still holding on tightly to the struggling furball beneath me. She’s wrong anyway. This isn’t Rudi, it’s probably just some guy named Matt or something. Reindeer are thick around these parts.
When its nose starts to glow, I inconspicuously cover it with my paw.
Folding her arms over her chest, Red Riding Hood coughs vigorously. “Ja-ack!”
OKAY! Rolling my eyes, I roll off the deer and sit back on my haunches. Disgruntled, the animal blows in my face before it tootles off.
My stomach growls with hunger. Great.
At least, the sound isn’t lost on Riley. Her face softens, and she rubs behind my ear. Mmh, that feels amazing. Grunting in happiness, I squeeze my eyes shut and press my head into her palm. Wait! Should I be doing that?
Ah, what the hell…
“Come on, you bad puppy.” She laughs. “Let’s visit Granny and see if she’s got food in her fridge.”
My behind rises, and my tail excitedly starts flapping again. Ugh. Snorting, I hang my head. This time, however, I refuse to chase that traitorous part of me.
Riley eats the apple while I trot alongside her. Granny’s house does sound good, after all. At the crossing, where we usually meet at the beginning of our story, we head in her grandmother’s direction. Some movement from that part of the forest captures my attention. A small form ambles toward us, sporting yellow fur, boots, a vest, and a hat.
My eyes glaze over with delight.
Can’t say that the Puss in Boots feels exactly the same joy at seeing me. His eyes grow as big as chicken eggs, and the fur on his arched back stands on end. He screeches in terror, claws shooting out.
The next instant, the cat whirls about and dashes off into the underbrush. Heck, if that isn’t an invitation.
Be right back!
Chapter 9
Riley
“Jack! Leave the Puss alone!” Dang this rollicking Wolf. Dr. Jekyll’s serum really did what it promised. I rub my hands over my face and cut a helpless glance at the sky. If one whelp is this much work, now I understand why Mother Goat always looks so exhausted when she takes her seven kids to town.
As the cat screeches cease in the distance, I believe Jack chased the poor guy up a tree. Thank the fairies wolves can’t climb that well. Continuing on my way to Granny, I put my fingers between my lips and whistle sharply. “Jack! Come here, boy!”
After the next two whistles, the stray puppy finally emerges from the dark side of the forest, ambling toward me across the wood anemone with his nose in the flowers as if he needs to sniff his way back to me. “Did you give the poor cat a heart attack?” I ask dispraisingly, folding my arms over my chest when he comes to a halt in front of my feet.
The Wolf pulls in his lolling tongue, and I swear his flews lift in a smirk.
“Instead of chasing clueless Fairyland inhabitants, you should try to change back before the Huntsman comes after you.”