white male that caused her to lose social status and the trust of those that had once loved her.

That dark shade . . . The visions of that night in which she was used as a quick one-night stand smeared within her mind, causing her to growl violently. Those markings . . .Bridget was fired up to the point of standing, despite the fact that her other pups were nursing on her teats. Oh, this is that hell-demon’s doing! How dare he pass on his own appearance like this! Damn him . . . damn him! . . . And now, I shall be forever damned with him!The young boy gasped at what Bridget was now up to. 

The gray dog used her jaws to grab the black and white pup and shake him side to side. I’ll get rid of him myself! Violently, her hatred for her son made the tiny pup whine and cry out, as if to say “Stop! Stop!” but she wouldn’t . . . she couldn’t allow this child to survive after what had happened to her.

No, I can’t stop . . . You are his filthy spawn . . . and given his image too . . . I must destroy you for reminding me of his torment! Enraged, she tossed her head harder and a vicious growl slipped from between her white teeth and the fragile skin of the pup. Damn you for ever being born! I shall make sure I rid him from my life . . . FOREVER!  

The pup let out another whimper of innocence, as if pleading for mercy for he probably knew that he hadn’t really done anything wrong, but the mother knew that was a lie – to her, his only crime was the fact that he was born looking exactly like the male that stole her innocence. Oh, just even thinking about that and remembering the matter of minutes that it took for his seed to conceive her pups within her made her jaws clasp down upon the pup, almost to the point of drawing blood from the pup’s neck with her own fangs.

The young child was in disbelief and couldn’t take this horrible sight anymore – he knew that this was not the dog that he had loved and owned for three years. She was only eight weeks old when the boy with red hair fell smitten for the bright-eyed light-gray pup, and it was then that he knew she would be a great sled dog.

Bridget was always such a nice, kind dog, the boy thought as he felt a tear swell up in his eyes. A fast lead dog on a sled team, always ready to play with me and the other dogs, loyal to anyone she met or worked with – she would never hurt anybody!  

Why would any mother want to do this to their own flesh and blood? Mothers are supposed to love and be nurturing to their young – that’s what Mom told me, anyway – but whatever the case, that pup doesn’t deserve this . . . Bridget’s not a killer! She wouldn’t kill her own child after bringing it into the world!

I have to save that pup, no matter what!  

“No!” Instinctively, the boy screamed and began to rush in, despite his parents’ cries to stop; without any fear of becoming the dog’s next victim, he put Bridget in a head-lock and freed the pup from her jaws. “Let go of it, Bridget!” he snapped, tapping the tip of her muzzle with the palm of his free hand. “Stop, girl! That’s enough!”

“Jimmy!” The mother rushed out through the doorway and to her son, followed by her husband. They surrounded their child, protecting him in case Bridget turned on them for the actions of the boy, but Bridget only growled, signaling a clear defeat. 

I guess they can save you . . . for now, the gray dog growled within her mind as she turned away from the humans that held the black and white pup in their attention. Her eyes focused on the other four pups that were suckling her nipples for nourishment – they were the ones she would begin to love . . . Thankfully, they didn’t look like their father, so she would continue to care for them . . . But that other pup . . . I will never love him! She ignored her humans and began to lick and groom her remaining pups, but somehow her ears caught a bit of the conversation between the three people.

“Jimmy, are you okay?” the mother embraced her son as he cradled the rescued pup in his gentle hands. “She didn’t bite you, did she?” 

“I’m fine, Mom,” the boy replied, looking up at his parents before gazing back at the tiny pup he had saved. “Really, I am. Bridget’s my dog, so I know how to detain her . . . but I could let her hurt that pup. She would’ve kill it if I didn’t do something!”

The father looked back at Bridget, confused by the past actions of the last couple of minutes. “She seems calmer now. I wonder what could have happened to make her want to hurt such a fragile, little newborn . . .” 

“Oh, he’s not fragile, Dad,” Jimmy spoke up, defending the tiny innocent with his words. He had confirmed that the pup was a male only a moment ago, so the boy knew that the pup would be fine. “He wasn’t hurt at all! He doesn’t have a single scratch on him!”

“But that’s impossible,” the mother looked closely for herself at the boy-pup. “He’s so . . . small! Most likely he’s the runt of Bridget’s litter – maybe that’s what upset her.” Or at least she sensed his weakness and wanted to get rid of the frailest pup, just like what some wolves will do. The mother thought to herself – she had read books on dogs and wolves, so she was well-read on the actions of new canine mothers and how they made sure the strongest in their litter survived. 

“Your mother’s right, Son,” the father supported his wife’s knowledge. “He does seem smaller than the other pups. He wouldn’t stand a fighting chance against a grown dog like Bridget.”

“But he did, Mom and Dad, and thanks to me, he has a chance to live! Besides, his fur is so strong and smooth! It’s like . . . it’s almost like . . . he’s got skin of steel . . .” He paused for a moment, gazing at the whimpering pup that squirmed on his palms. “Steele . . . That’s what I want to name him, Dad.” 

“Steel?” The father lifted an eyebrow in confusion by his son’s name for the pup. “You mean, like the metal?”

“Yeah, except with an ‘e’ at the end,” the boy added, clarifying his choice of name by finding a writing utensil and a piece of paper. “S-T-E-E-L-E . . . Steele . . .” Jimmy wrote the name out on the paper, christening the pup. “That’s what his name will be . . . and I want to take care of him.” 

“Are you sure about that, Jimmy?” His mother asked. “Can you handle another dog, especially a newborn? Hand-raising pups is a very time-consuming task. They need a lot of love and devotion, you know.”

“I know, Mom, but this is what I want to do,” he responded proudly. “If Bridget won’t take Steele in, then I will. I’ll make him strong . . . and I’ll train him to be a sled dog just like his mother.” 

“Only if he lasts that long,” the father added a few words of worry. “He’s still the runt, so I won’t expect much from him yet. He still has a lot of growing left to do.”

He will last! Steele may be small right now, but he can still grow! Don’t doubt him yet, Mom and Dad! I still have faith in him . . . and you should at least give him a chance to prove he can do it! The boy wanted to respond back to his parents, but his attention was soon sent elsewhere by a loud noise. 

The newly-named pup began to whine loudly, crying out his hunger for mother’s milk. Jimmy cradled it on his shoulder, gently trying to calm him with a hushing whistle, but it was to no avail. The pup continued to cry for his mother, but she easily learned to tune his cries out.

Hmph, I won’t help you . . . Bridget thought to herself with an aloof gesture towards him. And even if you grow stronger, I never want to ever acknowledge you as my son! And with that, she put her attention back to Steele’s own siblings and licked them once more as they sucked for her natural serum of life. 

“Let’s take him to the vet just to make sure he’s okay,” Jimmy’s mother told the boy. “Perhaps he can give you some milk supplement for you to bottle-feed him.”

“Okay, Mom. Let’s get going,” Jimmy smiled.  

His father found a small strip of a blanket and handed it to his son. “Wrap little Steele in this cloth; it’ll keep him warm once we get outside into the chilly air.” He spoke with a cautious tone. “I’ve heard of many pups catching their death of cold before, even in this early spring air. We can’t be too careful with any of these newborns now, even if the weakest of runts have tough skin.”

“Gotcha, Dad. Thanks,” the boy nodded once before taking the blanket piece and carefully wrapping the pup with it. The tiny newborn squirmed and wriggled in the cloth, crying out to break free and return to his mother, but the child held it close to his chest, hoping that the gentle vibration of his own heartbeat would give Steele a bit of comfort. Luckily it worked like a charm, causing the pup to let out a yawn and gently whimper in the human boy’s protective grasp.  

“Don’t worry, Steele – I’ll protect you,” Jimmy murmured to the pup, knowing very well that the pup could not yet hear. “I may not be a dog or a mother, but I will make sure you get stronger. I promise.”

The parents both led their son and the little pup that was given a second chance at life downstairs and out the doorway that led into the main street of town. Their town was White Mountain, a small mountainside town that was about 70 miles away from the even smaller village of Nome, Alaska. The streets were filled with human families, their loyal house-dogs, and a couple of dog-sledding teams that were preparing to work hard for their supper.  

Dog-sledding was a major part of any Alaskan city, most especially because it was considered as a reliable source of transportation through the snowy terrain, slick icy passageways and rough mountain paths. Most dogs were born and bred especially for pulling sleds and becoming powerful members of a team for dog-sled racing, which was a

Previous Page

1 2 3 4

Next page