The Pup Who Cried Wolf Read Online Free Page B

the cold and worrying about who is trying to eat you.”
    â€œOne word,” Hector says. “Freedom.”
    He is sniffing at the wire corners of his cage. Freedom. Life outside the walls. Hector wants it just as bad as I do. He says he’s a wild rat in his bones, and if he ever gets out, he is going to live underground and procreate.
    He thinks I don’t know what that means. I do. It means he’s going to make lots of babies with a girl rat.
    â€œFreedom,” I echo. “The kind wolves have.”
    â€œYou’re obsessed with wolves,” says Hector.
    â€œAt least I’m not obsessed with girls,” I tell him.
    â€œGentlemen, no fighting,” says Glory. “Don’tact like backyard mutts and barn-raised vermin. Anyway, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”
    Glory swings herself back right side up and turns to face us. “What’s wrong with protection? What’s wrong with style? Have you thought about teeth and claws and animals looking at you like you are a walking chicken nugget?
Que loco.
You two crazy birds go ahead and get back to your roots. Just don’t call me when your stomach starts grumbling and winter is just around the corner.”
    Glory turns her back and starts whistling to show that the conversation is over.
    â€œWhat was that all about?” I say to Hector.
    â€œHow sad.” Hector shakes his head. “All the wild has been drained out of her system.” He fluffs himself up and walks around his cage on two feet. “What about teeth and claws and yackety-yackety-yak!” It’s a perfect imitation.
    That night, Mona and I cuddle on the motel bed and look at photo albums. There’s the mountain lake from last year’s family reunion. Nice, but no Yellowstone Park! There’s Mona’s dad and his motor home where we slept. There’s Mona’s sister.
    And there … I wince. Under all the grime, it’s a little girl, perhaps. Red hair. A smile that’s too big for the face. And what is that in her arms? A doll in a frilly pink dress with a dog’s head? A small dog’s head? Actually, not too small … it’s me!
    Alexandra. Mona’s niece. She’s a fearsome little thing that even a wolf would want to stay far away from.
    I let my head sink down on my paws. Maybe she won’t be there this time.
    Yellowstone isn’t a big attraction for some kids. She might be staying with friends. Or her friends might come too, and she’ll be too busy playing with them and won’t have time to dress up her auntie’s Chihuahua in doll clothes. Or she might be too old for dolls any longer. But probably she won’t even be there.
    Yes. Almost definitely she won’t be there. I decide not to worry about it. Even Alexandra can’t ruin my mood for long.

8
Into the Heart of Wolf Country
    Anyone with a good nose and a wild heart can feel the change. I know it the moment we cross the line. Wilderness. I can feel it in my teeth.
    Also it helps that there is a big wooden sign that says YELLOWSTONE NATIONAL PARK, and a Yellowstone National Park ranger station with a sign that says YELLOWSTONE NATIONAL PARK RANGER STATION. And the other thing that helps me figure out where we are is the ranger who comes out to the car and says, “Welcome to Yellowstone National Park.”
    The ranger sounds all friendly, but he turns out to be a rude sort. “Oh, a killer dog,” he says when he sees me. He tells Mona to keep the windows up as soon as we leave the ranger station. He probably knows I’ll hate that. He says don’t feed the bears. Then he mentions some silly law. “Keep your dog on a leash at all times inside the park.”
    Umm, how am I going to meet my wolf pack on a leash?
    â€œUsually we say that to protect the smaller wildlife such as squirrels.” The ranger is still talking. “But in his case, the squirrels might just mistake him