standing in the room where she had fallen asleep. She closed her eyes tight and counted to ten, but when she awoke it was all still there. The bare spot on the wall with no collar, the water and food dishes beside her own; but most importantly Yuke right in front of her like a beacon of hope. “Was it all a dream?” she asked, not sure if she could believe her eyes.

 “Of course it was,” he replied, nuzzling her. “I don’t know what it was about, but it’s OK now.”

 Terry drew back, smiled, and leaned forward to kiss him. But when her face went right through him, she woke up screaming.

 “Terry?” asked Alicia, awakened by her dog’s sudden movement. “What’s wrong?”

 Terry forced herself to calm down for her owner’s sake. But she knew this couldn’t go on. Gently, she licked Alicia’s face to calm her down. Then, as soon as her owner was asleep, she gently climbed down off the bed and crept down the stairs. She paused a moment as she passed the fireplace, and stared up at Yuke’s collar. After a brief hesitation, she dragged a small chair over and climbed up on it, placing her front paws on the mantle. She wanted to have one last whiff of him before she did what she was about to do. She sniffed his collar, and she could still smell his musty, doggy smell. “Yuke,” she whispered.

 She hesitated. She felt like she was abandoning all that remained of him. After some thought, she hopped off the chair onto the floor and put her paws behind her collar. With some effort, she forced it off over her head. Then she picked it up and put it on the mantle by his.

 “Its better this way,” she whispered as she stared at the two collars. Then she jumped down again, headed out the door, and vanished into the darkness.

....................................................................................................

“Come on, Rex.”

 The bloodhound groaned and rolled over, trying his best to act like a dog twice his age. ‘Why does he do this every sunny day?’ he wondered.

 Chief Scotty, head of Nome’s police force, bent down and tugged at the dog’s collar. “Come on, boy, get up. It’s a beautiful day out there, and you’ve been inside for the last couple of weeks.”

 Rex grumbled and rolled over. “There are no beautiful days in Nome,” he muttered, although he knew it would fall on deaf ears. His master had a remarkable understanding of dogs, particularly bloodhounds. It sometimes almost seemed as if he actually understood every word, or every other word, that Rex said. But he had a will that would dominate a rabid bulldog without breaking a sweat.

 “Hee-yup, boy,” the chief persisted, sliding his hands under the dog and driving him to his feet. “You’re getting out there and getting some exercise, and that’s that.”

 Rex groaned and walked over to where his leash hung on the wall.

 “No, Rex,” the chief replied. “I have to look over this report. Somebody robbed the butcher of two choice hams and a whole side of beef last night. You go on and have a nice walk. Maybe you’ll get a chance to have some fun with other dogs for a change, huh?”

 Rex grumbled and slid out the dog door. “Fine kettle of fish,” he muttered. He knew the chief wasn’t just trying to make him go out while he lounged around. Chief Scotty was just that busy, and saw no reason why a dog who wasn‘t shouldn‘t make use of any free time. Well, as long as he had to be outside, he might as well make the best use he could of it. So he set out on his patrol route around the town of Nome. He would go as far as the butcher’s shop that had been broken into, which was only a block from the far edge of town, then loop back around and come home.

 But when he got to a place two blocks from the butcher’s, he heard a noise coming from an alley. He peered in and saw three large, mangy street dogs cornering a frightened-looking female. The strays were thin and wiry, covered with scars. The husky, aside from a lack of scars looked even worse.

 “You’re outta your turf, housedog,” growled one of them.

 “Please,” she begged, pressed so hard into the corner that her spine looked to be almost at a right angle. “I’ve done nothing wrong. I just…”

 “Quiet,” growled the biggest dog. “You don’t belong out here, little missy.”

 “Let her go!” barked Rex; making is voice boom as much as he could.

 The pack turned to look at him and laughed when they saw the lone dog opposing them. “And just what’re you gonna do about it if we don’t?” one of them asked.

 “I’m the police,” Rex replied staunchly. He was hoping to bluff the strays, although he doubted it would work. “Now break it up or you’ll have no choice but to fight me.”

 The leader of the pack snorted. “I’ll make dog food outta you, copper,” he growled, and threw himself at Rex. Rex dodged and made a slash at the dog’s side, drawing some blood and a loud yelp. The stray turned and sank his teeth into Rex’s leg. Rex snarled and tore at the back of his adversary’s neck, making him let go.

 “Come on, let’s get him!” shouted one of the other two mutts. That was Rex’s last clear memory for the next three minutes or so. All he recalled after that was a mad blur of whirling fur and gnashing teeth. The next thing he knew, the other dogs were running. Rex checked himself quickly for any injuries, but to his surprise found none of any great severity. Then he turned to the female.

 “Are you alright?” he asked. The dog was still backed into the corner. She was thin and ill-groomed, but not enough to be a street dog. Rex estimated she had been out of her house for about two weeks, maybe a day more or less. “It’s alright, Miss,” Rex reassured her. “I’m not going to hurt you, and those thugs are long gone.”

 She stopped shaking. “Thanks,” she said softly.

 “Did they hurt you?”

 She inched her way forward. “Not really.”

 Rex beckoned her to get up. “Well, come on then. Let’s get you home.”

 At the word ‘home’, she violently shook her head. “No, I can’t!” she blurted.

 Rex wondered if she might be more injured than she appeared. “Can you stand up?” he asked.

 She shakily rose to her feet. “Yes,” she agreed.

 “Can you walk?”

 She tried to take a step and staggered. Rex tried to catch her, but didn’t make it in time. She bounced against his side and landed in the snow. “I don’t think I can,” she replied.

 “Well just lie there for a bit then, and gather your strength.”

 She seemed happy enough to oblige that request, and moved into as comfortable a position as she could manage.

 “What are you doing out here anyway?” Rex asked, knowing the best thing he could do right now was keep her talking.

 She sighed. “I ran away from home.”

 “Abusive masters?” Rex inquired, knowing that this was the most common cause of runaway dogs. The chief had been trying to crack down on animal abuse, but the laws were so permissive in Nome that there little to nothing he could do.

 She shook her head. “Memories,” she replied.

 Rex titled his head curiously. “Memories?” he echoed.

 The husky nodded weakly, as if just the thought of these memories had drained her. “You know the dogsled race a couple of weeks ago?”

 Rex thought for a moment and nodded. “The chief mentioned it,” he replied. “I never watch races unless they happen to go past my house, but the chief said there was a fatality.”

 She nodded. “My mate,” she explained. “He was the lead dog of one of the teams, but then he tripped when he saw me and… well, the vet said he broke his neck and died instantly.”

 Rex nodded. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “But why can’t you go back home?”

 “Because we lived in the same house,” she replied. “Everywhere I look I see him, like he’s haunting me. It’s my fault he died and now… now I just can’t stand it.” In her grief, she had begun rambling like a child, and a moment later she broke down crying. “You don’t understand!” she cried softly.

 Rex had to admit she had him there. He had never gotten close to anyone in the way she obviously had with her mate. Indeed, he had never gotten very close to anyone except the chief, outside of friendly exchanges with various police dogs when their masters came to his home for one reason or another. But police work didn‘t call for affection, it called for action. “Miss,” Rex insisted, worried by now that the street dogs might return, “You have to go back to your home. You’ll die out here if you don’t.”

 She didn’t move. “Maybe I should,” she muttered.

 “Miss, if this dog loved you enough to be your mate, he obviously wouldn’t want you to live out your life this way. He would want you to go back home.” A sharp breeze snaked its way into the alley, and Rex involuntarily shivered. “And we’d better get you there quickly.”

 The husky groaned, pulled herself