too, when he’s lost in thought.” The Border Collie looked from Terry to the marker, his cheerfulness fading. “Who’re you talking to?”

 Terry swallowed against that tight feeling once more. “I’m not sure your friends have been talking about it or not, but…this is…” she forced herself to not look down, but meet him in the eye. “…This is where my mate is. Yukon.”

 Comet’s eyes widened as he glanced back down to the marker. “Oh.” He shifted nervously, frowning a little. “I didn’t know. Most stuff that’s found out is confidential and treated as if it’s no one’s business but the ones involved.” He looked almost offended as he sullenly added, “We don’t gossip, you know.”

 Terry almost smiled. For some reason Comet reminded her of Pete in his zealous attitude. The main difference was while Pete brooded and withdrew, Comet chattered (and moved) almost nonstop. “I didn’t mean it like that, I just wasn’t sure what exactly they had said about it.”

 There was a welcome pause as the two studied the marker together, both withdrawing to their own thoughts. To Terry it felt strangely comforting to mourn next to another, especially since Comet wasn’t your typical fellow mourner. Usually Terry found herself wincing away from the sympathy she found in her friends’ eyes, but Comet just accepted the fact that someone had passed without any of those annoying ‘how are you holding up, dear?’ questions. Simply put, he was much like Rex had been…

 Comet seemed to read her mind. “Rex is pretty bummed out about… you know, things not working out.”

 Terry nodded. “So am I,” she admitted.

 The collie stirred the snowy ground with a paw. “I was kind of freaked out at first, you know. I mean, Rex is always so serious, I never thought he had it in him to… well..." He looked her in the eye. “I think he’s really fallen for you.”

 Terry had to admit it was flattering, but sense told her to forget it. “It just doesn’t seem right,” she admitted, staring at the cross.

 They stood in silence for a long moment. “Ewan lost someone not too long ago.” Comet suddenly mentioned, surprising her. “He’s mostly over it, but I noticed that sometimes he still gets all weird and moody when he’s thinking about her.”

 “I would never have guessed that he was grieving too,” Terry murmured, the information still sinking in. “So that’s why he was so agitated about the rest of his family- Not that I blame him, of course. I would be the same way too.”

 Comet nodded. “I didn’t know what to make of it at first. But it turned out that it was – as Orde put it – a great life lesson. Ewan agreed; saying that though he misses her real bad, he knows that he can’t hold onto her forever. He said he finally learned to love with an open heart.” He scowled a little. “I don’t understand what that means… when I told him that, he just said that was why I was the student and not the teacher.”

 Terry chuckled. “You have some very wise mentors.” Her smile faded as something started to nag at her thoughts.

What was it trying to tell her? That she needed to learn the same thing?? It was a vaguely disturbing question, but one that demanded to be acknowledged. “He learned to love with an open heart?”

 “Yeah, like I said, I don’t know what that means.” He shrugged. “Ewan just said that at first he felt like he was afraid to let go of her, because he might forget her. But then he told me that he realized that all the memories would still be there, and that once he truly accepted the fact that she was gone, he found it was easier to get on with his life.” He cocked his head at her in curiosity. “Why do you ask? Do you know what he’s talking about?”

 Terry studied her paws as she thought. “I’m not sure,” she rose and gave a small smile. She had come to a decision. “But I think I just might find out.”

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

“Rex?” Terry called hesitantly as she entered the room. But he wasn’t there. In his place sat a female dog, a collie-malamute mix by the look of it.

 “Who’s Rex?” asked the dog. “And more important, who are you and what are you doing here?”

 “I’m Terry,” she replied, looking around in disappointed confusion. “I thought Rex was in here.”

 “Who’s he?”

 “A bloodhound. He belongs to Nome’s chief of police.”

 The dog on the table looked thoughtful. “Did he have a really baggy face?”

 Terry brightened. “You’ve seen him?”

 “They were carrying him out just as I was brought in here.”

 Terry didn’t like the sound of that. “Carried out?” she asked.

 The collamute pointed her nose toward a door. “In there,” she replied. “I think the doc’s checking on him right now.”

 Terry groaned. “Oh, the vet will never let me in there unless I break a leg or something.”

 With a lifted eyebrow, the dog on the table asked, “What’s the deal, are you his girlfriend?”

 Terry shifted uneasily. “Not exactly,” she admitted. “We talked about it the last time I saw him, and…”

 “Say no more,” she smiled. “I’ve heard it before. I’ll help ya.”

 Terry tilted her head. “How can you help me?”

 “Just wait by the door and get ready to move.”

 Terry went over by the door and sat, and her friend began to make a series of the most agonized sounds Terry had ever heard. If she hadn’t known better, she would have thought the dog was having a major stomach problem. ‘Where did she learn to do that?’ she wondered.

 Wherever she had picked it up, it worked like a charm. There was the sound of footsteps; the vet came through the door, and the husky slipped through.

 The room she entered was mostly empty. Several shelves of what she guessed must be emergency medicines and other supplies lined one wall, and cages on top of other cages sat against the opposite wall, filled with pets who had been injured in the massacre. ‘This must be the recovery room,’ she thought. She cleared her throat a little hesitantly. “Rex?” she called.

 There was no response at first. Thinking he might be asleep, she stepped back and scanned the cages. She spotted Rex in the one on the bottom left, lying motionless except for the steady rise and fall of his back as he breathed.

 “Rex?” she asked. She hated to wake him, but with him in a back room, who knew when she would have another chance to get in and see him? “Rex,” she persisted, drawing near to the cage, “It’s me, Terry.” After further hesitation, she slid a paw through the mesh and poked him. “Rex?”

 “Huh, what?” he asked drowsily. As he blinked away the sleep in his eyes, a smile grew on his face. “Terry!” he beamed. “I… I was hoping to see you again.”

 She nodded. “Yes, Comet told me.”

 Rex blanched slightly. “Orde sent Comet to talk to you?” he asked. “I, er…” he cleared his throat… twice. “I hope he didn’t exaggerate too much.”

 She smiled. “I only believed every other word.”

 Rex’s demeanor softened until his expression bore the softness of chocolate pudding. “Terry, I…” he stopped. “I just wanted to tell you that when you left, I understood you.”

 She tilted her head. “You did?”

 He nodded. “I understood why you were walking away, and I think I felt some of the pain you felt when you lost your mate. I…” he stopped and hung his head. “I’d never lost someone important to me before. Not except when I left my mother as a pup, and you know that’s different.”

 “Oh, Rex,” she sighed. It wasn’t a gushy sigh like you might find in a bad television show, more a comforting sigh or a sad sigh. “I didn’t want to make you feel that way.”

 “Jeez, give her the collar and get a doghouse already!” cracked a Pomeranian in one of the cages higher up.

 Terry and Rex both scowled in his direction, although for Rex this only resulted in hitting his nose against the wall. “I think,” the bloodhound suggested, “This conversation had best be held at another time.”

 Terry nodded. “I need a chance to think this over anyway.”

 “We both do,” Rex added with a smile. There was something in the moment that told him, whatever followed, they would at least come out of this as friends. “And thank you for coming.”

 The door opened right at that moment. “What are you doing in here?” asked the vet. “Come on, if