Gunner's Arc

Chapter 9 of 9

Gunner sat in the wood chips and watched Winnie. She stayed low and wide, all four paws under her. He would not charge again. He would wait for her to rise. The sun would shift, and she would follow it. That was his gap. But the sun did not move fast enough. Across the play park, a dog with an odd, lopsided shape trotted through the low gate. The strange dog sniffed the fence, then loped toward Winnie's sunny patch. He moved without care, tail high. Winnie watched him come. She stayed set, low and firm, guarding her spot. Gunner saw his plan slipping. If the odd dog took the sun, Winnie would chase him, not rise for the light. His gap would close. Then a fourth dog crept in behind the odd one. This one trembled. Its eyes were wide and its head hung low. It froze at the edge of the chips, watching all of them. Gunner knew this kind of dog. He had learned it before. A scared dog runs from noise. It comes close only to stillness. The odd dog barked and bounced at Winnie. She held her ground. She would not leave her sun. But the scared dog flinched at the bark and skittered sideways, straight toward Gunner. Gunner did not move. He remembered the black dog. He kept his body flat and quiet. He let his weight sink into the warm chips. The scared dog stopped a few feet away, shaking, sniffing the air. Winnie's ears turned. She looked at the trembling dog, then at Gunner sitting so still. Something changed in her face. She rose. She lifted onto her paws to see the scared dog better. Tall now. Narrow. Off balance. This was it. Gunner set his sore legs and drove forward. His shoulder caught her high on the side, where she had no base. She had no low, wide stump to hide behind now. She tipped. Her paws slid, and she rolled onto her flank in the chips. Winnie lay on her side, blinking up at him. For a long moment she said nothing. Then she huffed. "You waited," she said. "You actually waited." "You stood up," Gunner said. His chest heaved. "I told you I would be ready." The odd dog wagged and nosed at Winnie, pleased. The scared dog watched from the edge, still trembling, but it had not run. Gunner had knocked his sister off her feet at last. But Winnie was already back on all fours, low and wide again, eyes sharp. "That won't work twice," she said. "I know your trick now. Next time I won't rise for anything." Gunner stood over the spot where she had fallen. He had won this once. He had proved timing beat muscle. Now his sister knew his one gap, and she would guard it. He needed a new way in.