A Dog's Way Home by Bobbie Pyron Read Free Book Online Page A

yellow eyes fell on Tam. The coyote stood stock-still, ears cocked forward, nose working the air.
    To Tam, she looked almost like other dogs he’d met. But not quite. She had a doggish smell, except wilder. She smelled of sun and grass, blood and bones. Tam whined uncertainly and raised his tail.
    The coyote did what every canine from wolf to poodle does as a sign of friendship: She wagged her tail. Her ears relaxed and she stretched her mouth in a wide coyote grin.
    Fear and uncertainty of yet another wild creature Tam did not understand filled him. What was this dog that was not a dog? He raised his tail higher. A long, low growl rumbled from his chest.
    The little coyote pinned her ears flat against her skull and wagged the tip of her tail in her bid for friendship.
    Tam growled louder, his eyes hardening.
    Then a breeze from the south whispered through thetall pines. It made its way to Tam’s nose, to his ears, Home, home.
    Tam wheeled and set out on his course, straight and true. He crossed meadows and followed faint deer paths. The miles passed beneath his feet.
    And always, always, just out of sight, followed the coyote.

CHAPTER 13
Abby
    T hree weeks, two days, and one hour after I lost Tam, we got a phone call.
    Me and Mama had just got home from getting my cast off. Meemaw met us on the front porch, the phone held out in front of her.
    â€œIt’s someone calling about Tam,” she whispered.
    I about fainted right there. I had prayed and prayed every night for this day, and my prayers were finally being answered.
    Mama grabbed the phone. Meemaw pulled me into the house behind Mama.
    â€œYes, we had a dog named Tam,” Mama said. “Did you find him?”
    I was about to burst. Someone had found Tam! I squeezed my eyes shut. Thank you, thank you, thank you!
    A grin split Meemaw’s face. My brain galloped as fast as it could up to my room to pack Tam’s things, and then down to the car and across the mountains, as fast and as far as we needed to bring Tam home.
    â€œYou found it where?” Mama asked.
    I tugged at her arm. “Where is he, Mama?”
    Mama shook her head and turned her back to us. “Yes, we might want it back. Could you give me your number, please? I need to talk to my husband. He’s up in that area right now.”
    The floor felt like it was slipping under me. What was she talking about?
    Mama scratched down a phone number on a piece of paper. “We’ll get back in touch with you,” she said, and hung up the phone.
    The disappointment in her eyes told me clear as anything that my prayers had not been answered.
    Meemaw gripped my shoulder. “Tell us, Holly,” she said to Mama.
    Mama sat on the couch. She pulled me down next to her, smoothed the hair from my face.
    I pushed her hand away. “Tell me, Mama.”
    Mama took a shaky breath. “That was Mr. J. T. Fryar,” she said. “He and his son were deer hunting a couple ofdays ago up near the Blue Ridge Parkway in Virginia.”
    I sucked in a breath. Virginia. “Was it near where we crashed?”
    Mama shrugged. “He said they were by White Rock Creek and his son spotted something shiny on a tan box out in the middle of the creek. So his son waded out into the creek to see what it was.”
    My throat filled with a sick feeling. “What was it?” I asked.
    â€œTam’s crate, honey,” Mama said.
    â€œAnd what was the shiny thing?” Meemaw asked.
    Mama blinked back tears. “Tam’s tags. His collar was hung up in the door of the crate.”
    I squeezed my eyes shut. Pictures flashed in my mind: water filling the crate, Tam clawing frantically at the crate door, him sliding into the water, his collar trapping him—
    â€œWas there any sign of the dog?” Meemaw asked. “Any sign at all?”
    I shook my head, trying to clear the terrible pictures from my head.
    â€œNo,” Mama said. “He said he and his son