“Momma! I don’t want to get rid of Crysta!” Jamie pleaded to her mother. Her mother shook her head frustratingly.

“No Jamie! I mean it when I say No! That mongrel dog has to go! She’s a mess!” Her mother wrangled, still shaking her head firmly. Neither the less of what her mother said, Jamie stilled pleaded,

“But I promise to take care of her!” She was starting to cry. Her mother slapped Jamie’s small hand away from her recently ironed skirt.

“Jamie! I’m you’re mother! What I say to you goes! I’m going to be calling the pest control in 5 minutes sooner, if you don’t behave right now!” Her mother yelled angrily, now standing. Jamie sniffed, and whipped away her tears with her sleeve. “Oh, please Jamie. This is ridiculous! Crysta’s just a dog. Before your father left for work up further north, I told him, ‘A dog? Are you insane Jeffery? My mother never let me have a dog because they’re filth and nothing but a load of work, and a waste of money and time. Besides, we can’t manage to waste money on one now, not with moving to a new town, and having your fourth job going through the roof through smoke, out of business when the large fire hit the company building!’ But your father said, ‘Oh Sandra, this dog will do us good in time. I’ll train it to help me with work, like chores and such. Besides, the mutt will be a good playmate for Jamie.’ Then I told your father, ‘Oh yes, so you say now, but later when you’re gone looking for a new job, I’ll be stuck with the dog and I’ll be doing all the work!’ And so here I am!” Jamie’s mother shouted, waving her arms up in the air. Jamie just sat and sniffled, whipping away any more tears that came down.

Her mother stood in the hallway tapping her fingers in a thwart like pace, as she telegraphed a notice for the pound (what she called, ‘pest-control’), to take away Crysta, the 4 month old Siberian wooly coated husky the small family had adopted a few weeks ago.

Jamie smiled though as little Crysta entered the room and started licking the salty stains from Jamie’s tears off her face, which made Jamie, start to giggle with joy.

“Crysta, girl stop! It tickles!” Jamie chuckled happily, and then started to laugh. But Sandra, Jamie’s mother angrily stomped on over to Jamie and Crysta, and grabbed Crysta by the nape of the neck tightly. Crysta whimpered frightened, Jamie cried out,

“Momma! Please let go of Crysta! You’re hurting her!” Ignoring her daughter’s cries for mercy, she literally threw poor little Crysta in the small underground cellar.

Crysta shook her head and whimpered as Sandra went out of the cellar and locked the door, twice. Crysta whimpered and whined from her sores of being thrown in the cellar, and from the separation from little Jamie.

“Quiet!” Sandra yelled, outside the cellar door. Crysta gave a soft whine and then perked up her ears as she heard a few loud knocks from the front door. “Oh- must be the dogcatchers. I forgot that I already telegraphed them earlier. What a relief.” Sandra breathed, sounding happy with relief.

Crysta scratched at the door with an antsy rate. Then she stopped a little as she heard some new voices.

“Ma’am we read the telegraph you sent the other day, about the wild dog. We’ve come to take it to the pound.” One man told her.

“Oh yes, come in. She’s in the cellar; it’s near the kitchen stove. Thank you so much for coming.” Sandra tried to sound as cheerful as possible with despicable glee.

Crysta started banging at the cellar door once she heard Jamie crying loudly and kicking at her mother, who was yelling at her and struggling to hold her, while the men from the pound made their way to the cellar door to fetch Crysta. Crysta then started barking her small puppy like barks.

Then one of the men from the pound opened the door. Crysta raced inside and tried to dodge the two muscled men armed with dog catching equipment. They tried to corner her near the stove, so one of them could use a long pole with a rope at the end of it to try and rope Crysta. But Crysta growled and bit one of the men on the hand and tried to race to the sobbing Jamie. But the other man grabbed poor Crysta at the nape of her neck, and roughly put her in a net bag. Jamie was screaming now, upset. Her mother slapped her across the face to keep her quiet. “Jamie! I’ve had enough with your behavior! Go to your room! Now!” Her mother yelled. Jamie didn’t budge. So, Sandra reluctantly picked her up, despite Jamie kicking and hitting her. Sandra put Jamie in Jamie’s room, and locked it with the lock, and placed a nearby armchair against it.

Then Sandra went outside where the men were with Crysta getting her into a chicken wired crate in the back of their horse-carriage. Sandra dusted off her shirt and skirt with her hands, and pruned up her hair as she walked outside down the steps. “I’m so sorry about that….” Sandra said sweetly. “Jamie never does anything like that before. She must be a little… well… misunderstood what was going on with the animal.” The men both nodded. The man, who had been bitten, finished rapping his hand in white bandages. Noticing this, Sandra quirked concerned. “Are you okay sir?” She asked.

“Yes. I’m quite fine, really. Many animals do this. It’s part of their savage behavior.” The other man also nodded agreeing.

“Well, been a pleasure with you ma’am.” The first man replied and shook her hand. The other man did the same. Then they both went onto the carriage and one of them took the reins and were on the move.

Crysta was scarred and whimpered sadly as she watched her old home seem to be shrinking farther and farther away the more they went.

“C’mon Garret! Chow time!” Garret raced to the sweet smell of leftovers saved from the humans’ dinners from the previous nights. The mild-elderly couple, Mrs. Lucile Williams who owned the Horselock Farmhouse Farm; with her husband, Mr. Gregory Williams, lived as simple farmers along with their dogs, Lucy, Rex, Jasmine (the lap-dog), and 5 month old Garret. They also had 3 pigs. Two females, one male, for breeding and marketing purposes; along with 5 hens, two roosters, 7 ducks, 20 sheep, 15 goats, two cows, and three cats.

Garret was the son of Lucy and Rex the work dogs of the Williams’ farm. Jasmine was the lap dog, meaning she kept the Williams’ company, instead of working. But Garret was being trained by Mr. Williams to do herding. He was a purebred Utonagan that the Williams’ decided to keep out of Rex and Lucy’s first litter.

The Williams’ took it upon themselves to raise Rex and Lucy who were also purebred Utonagans to become herding and working dogs, instead of sled dogs, which their breed was bred for. And it worked out quite well.

Garret yawned and stretched as he heard the familiar noises of the farmyard, near the barn. He shook his pelt as he got up and went on over to the pig’s and goat’s water tray. He started drinking out of it. The goats started getting angry at him. He then raced away towards the front of the Williams’ house a little farther off, towards the end of the property.

As he was running he almost rammed into his parents. “W-w-h-o-a-a!!! Watch out!” He barked. Lucy jumped backward just in time avoiding her son, but Rex didn’t hear his son in time. The two dogs whammed right into a loose wooden barrel that was filled with cabbages that Mrs. Williams had grown through out the year, and was planning on selling them at the town that day.

Garret started to laugh. “That was so cool! Don’t you think so Pops?” He asked. Rex shook his head a little dizzily from the crash, and puffed up a breath of air as a piece of squished cabbage slid down his nose. He got up shaking his coat.

“Why not?” Garret asked playfully. Rex got up fully now, and sat alongside Lucy in front of the wrecked barrel and cabbages.

Garret got up and shook off the cabbage pieces on him, and turned in a whimper. He then turned back at his parents with a guilty smile, which soon turned into a frown. “Sorry, Pops.” Garret apologized.

Rex shook his head. “Sorry doesn’t cut it. You’re old enough of a pup to know not to fool around the yard, the farmyard, the farm, or the fields for that matter.”

“Why not the house? I mean, why can only Jasmine go in, and not us? Why are we bandedfrom the house?” Garret asked back, sitting in front of his parents in the discussion.

“We are not, ‘banded’ from the house, Garret.” His mother began calmly. “We just… don’t belong in the house. We work. That’s our share of the farm. Jasmine’s share along with Smittens is to keep the housefolk happy. That’s the way things are.” His mother finished explaining. Garret growled unhappily. Smittens was one of the farm cats, except the only cat allowed inside the house. Garret and Smittens didn’t like each other very much.

“Besides, all the house is, is a place for the housefolk to live, and be able to take care of the farm. That’s the only importance of that house. It’s no value to us. Anyhow, I would like to know what punishment you’ll be getting from the Master anyway.” Rex replied.

‘Master’ was what all the animals called Mr. Williams. Mrs. Williams, they just called, Mrs. Williams, or Mistress.

Soon came out Mrs. Williams speaking of which, and she was devastated about the cabbages.

“Oh dear. My lovely cabbages! I was even thinking of going into the fair with one of them!” She turned and spotted Garret and scolded him. “Garret bad boy.” He whimpered. Mrs. Williams sighed. “Oh, the sap I am.” She said to herself and patted Garret softly. “I know you didn’t mean to cause trouble, Garret. But you have to learn on your own, of what to and whatnot to do. Alright?” She asked. Garret licked her hand, and she rubbed his ears, making his tail wag. “Alright, alright go on Garret! Go to the fields!” Garret happily raced into the fields for his work.

“What number is she marked on the crate?” The man asked. “204. I think she’s a husky.” The other man replied back to the first. The first man leaned back a little to take a glimpse at the puppy. “She seems like a wooly coated one to me. Why don’t you put her in cell number 4.” The other man just nodded simply, and placed the puppy inside the cell. The puppy shivered frightened.

She was put in a cell with two other puppies, luckily around her age. One of the puppies, a mutt of sheepdog and German Shepard bounded up to her. “Hiya! What’s your name? Mine’s Sheba!” The little pup asked in a giggle. The newer pup lifted her head dizzily. “I’m… Crysta. I think.” She answered and shook her head. Sheba wagged her tail. “Cool! That’s Tom-tom over there!” She introduced excitedly. Tom-tom was a Canaan dog, puppy. He only had three legs.

Tom-tom limped on over to meet Crysta also. “Where’d you come from?” He asked kindly. Crysta turned towards Tom-tom, not noticing his missing foreleg.

“Who’s Jamie?” Sheba asked. Crysta sneezed a little from the rusting smell of the cell bars. She shook her head again, and responded sleepily.

“You mean was your human. You’re in the pound now.” Tom-tom told her. Crysta was confused.

“The pound’s where humans don’t want dogs anymore. After a long time, they get rid of us.” Sheba explained softly. Her smile faded, as Crysta jumped up and down frightened. She started howling and barking frantically. Sheba quickly slapped her tail over Crysta’s face. “Shhh! We already have a plan.” Sheba told her quietly.

Tom-tom quickly looked over each of his shoulders, and then to the sides, and then motioned Crysta and Sheba over with his tail.

There was a lose board of wood that walled the end of the cell. Tom-tom took another few looks over his shoulder and to each side, and then seeing it was all clear, he started digging at the end of the stone ground. There was dirt at the end of the wall that he was digging through. When he dug all the dirt out, it was white outside, revealing snow from outside the building. Crysta smiled and wagged her tail, knowing that this meant a way out.

“We’re going to escape tonight, when it’s completely dark outside, and the moon’s not showing. But we have to wait ‘till there’s only one man here on the night shift.” Tom-tom explained seriously. Then he put all the dirt back. “We’re going to break the lose board tonight, so that way we don’t have a risky chance of not fitting through the hole, and getting caught.”

Crysta wagged her tail in excitement. “Did you guys think of this all by yourselves?” Crysta asked, in much more cheerful mood then she had been in before. Sheba and Tom-tom looked down at the ground shamefully.

“No…. there used to be another dog with us, who was a little bit older than us. He had been here for 6 months.” Tom-tom began only to be finished by Sheba also in a glum tone.

“Then at night we leave.” She declared, repeating what the other two had already told her. So they waited. When sunset came, Tom-tom told the other two to go to sleep, while he’d wake them up at night when it was time to go. Crysta snuggled next to Sheba and Tom-tom, and soon drifted into peaceful sleep.

“Crysta. Crysta, wake up!” Sheba barked quietly. Crysta shook her head sleepily.

“Huh? What is it?” Crysta asked and then yawned. A chill went through her as she remembered that she was inside the pound with other dogs, including her two new friends.

“Tom-tom started digging on the hole when he woke up. But the lose wood is having trouble moving, and the man who’s watching us tonight wakes up over the tiniest noises. We gotta hurry!” Crysta struggled to get up. Sheba went through the hole first. Tom-tom was already outside waiting. Crysta went through after Sheba, but her paw got stuck!

“Tom-tom! Sheba! Wait!” She howled. They turned and tried to free her foot. Luckily they did, but Crysta’s paw was bleeding. The other dogs started barking inside angrily, since they realized the pups had escaped.

“Oh no!” Sheba barked worriedly. Tom-tom pushed the two younger pups ahead of him.

“Get going!” He shouted. The man’s voice sounded as he tried to make the other dogs quiet.

The two pups raced away towards the end of town. They soon realized that Tom-tom wasn’t behind them. Sheba looked devastated.

“I’m going back after him!” She shouted to Crysta as she raced back in the other direction. Crysta didn’t know what to do, so she just raced towards the fields farther away from town. She kept going and going until when she turned the town was as small as her size. She huffed, trying to catch her breath and then kept going. Her bleeding paw felt numb to her from the cold weather. Winter was now ending, but the weather was still freezing. Soon when a log was nearby, Crysta raced to it, and slept next to it trying to keep warm. She didn’t want to think about Jamie, Sheba, Tom-tom, or Sandra. Or the pound. Then with the last breath of voice she had, she barked. “The past, I’m leaving behind me. Always.” With that she drifted into sleep.