September 20, 2017 | Posted in WooFPAK Heroes

Bluebelll keeps to the brush. The rabbit is fast, easily able to keep up with the pack of husky dogs. Her nose twitches, whiskers wiggling every time she sniffs. Even though there seems to be no reason for her to have come out here, the little rabbit is persistent about keeping up with the WooFPAK.

When the humans decide to take a short break, Jag marches over to the bush that Bluebell’s hiding in. Jag lays down in front of it, shoving his muzzle under the thick green leaves. He demands, “what are you doing out here?”

“Well,” says Bluebell, with a little snort. “I’m helping my hooman. She’s trying real heard to take care of that coon, and I know it must be real scared. You wolves – nasty, big, mean looking wolves – you’re just going to scare the poor little coon even more! I do this sometimes. My hooman doesn’t know, but I’m real good at helping her. She leaves the window down and I come out with her to find things, and then I run back to the truck real fast, and she never knows that I left!”

“Coons are dangerous,” says Jag. “I don’t know what you’re thinking, runt. This isn’t a deer that you’re out looking for.”

“I know all about coons,” insists Bluebell, tilting her head back haughtily. “I know more about coons than you do, wolf. We already talked about that. I’m not going back, anyway. I don’t listen to wolves!”

Jag snaps, “I keep telling you, I’m not a wolf!”

Bluebell ignores the comment, yet again. She says, “I’m going to talk to the coon and help my hooman, so it doesn’t get scared and run off. The poor dear must be frightened! First it gets caught in a house, and then it gets shot, and now wolves! Wolves are chasing it! No wonder it hasn’t stopped yet. I wouldn’t stop either, you know, not if I had a bunch of wolves chasing me down!”

Jag barely bites back an annoyed growl. He stands up, shaking his head. “Ridiculous,” he grumbles. “This is completely ridiculous!”

The break doesn’t last for long. Soon, the humans are moving again and the little rabbit is, too. They scamper through the woods, noses to the ground, eyes peeled for more drops of blood.

“This way,” announces Chase, breaking the relative silence of the group. He veers to the left and the others follow. “He’s slowing down.”

“I think you’re right,” says Zarro.

Bluebell announces, “I’m going ahead to find the coon! Maybe I can get to it before you wolves do, so it doesn’t get scared and run off again! I know my hooman, and my hooman is probably really tired from all this walking!”

And then, before any of the husky dogs can say anything, Bluebell darts ahead of the group and vanishes from sight.

Princess growls. “I’m getting really sick of that rabbit.”

“We’re almost done here,” promises Jag. “Let’s just find this flea bag and get out of here.”

By the time that the WooFPAK locates the raccoon, Bluebell has already vanished somewhere in the brush. The raccoon is curled up at the base of an old pine tree. There’s matted fur on the creature’s back thigh, where the bullet pierced it. Blood turns dark grey fur almost completely black.

“Easy,” says Jag.

Chase says, “we should stop here.”

The raccoon cracks open one green eye and asks, “are you the wolves?”

“We aren’t wolves,” snaps Princess. Then, a little bit softer, she adds, “we’re here to help you. Our humans are here to help you, at least.”

The raccoon closes his eye again. He takes a deep, shaking breath. “That’s what the rabbit said. I don’t like upright’s. They have too much food and too much anger.”

“Our people aren’t angry,” promises Jag. “They want to help you.”

And though the humans can’t actually understand the husky dogs, Donna seems to respond to that as though it’s a cue. In a voice that is honey sweet, she says, “easy there, buddy. I know you must be pretty freaked out right now. Okay, Rhett. Do you have that blanket ready?”

“I can’t believe you’re just going to pick it up,” says Rhett, handing over a bright blue blanket. It’s made out of a heavy, soft fabric.

“It’s hurt,” says Donna. “As long as I get the whole thing covered on the first throw, I can pick it up and push it into the crate. If it gets out, I drop it and put the snare on its neck. Alright, boys. If you’re going to tape this, I’d get your camera’s ready.”

 

Katelynn E Koontz – Author