Duck Season Dog Novels & Stories

I pressed my lips together, trying hard to hold my laughter as well. “Sorry dad… Ricky ate too slow,” Derek explained before carrying his dog in the crook of his arm. He gave it a soft gentle stroke on the fur before joining us in the car. Ricky, his cute Bernese mountain dog, with black and white furs couldn't help but wag its tail happily and bark cutely at Mr Walter. “Don't you yell at me! Why did you eat so slow?” Mr Walter turned to face the dog as his hands began exploring the driving wheel. Ricky barked again, sticking out its tongue and wagging its tail happily.

She peeked her head up to look at them through the door window, confirming they were the two from earlier. One was a Scout breed, bred by the Aliane to track anything no mater how old the sent was. Once they picked up on the trail the only ways to get them off it was either to start a fire around the area or to shoot them. The other was a Hunter breed. Hunter breeds are stronger than the Scout breed, so they were often paired up. The Scout would track the target while the Hunter would chase it down. The third breed type is Soldier; a K9 bred to be large and strong, used almost exclusivly during raids and battles.

The suspect couldn’t have gotten that far but I should be able to catch up before the scent completely fades. Duke took off at high-speed weaving between the trees and bounding over dead branches and logs, through the light dusting of snow that tapered off the deeper we ran into the woods. Emitting a low growl occasionally as we tracked down the scent of the jewel thief and murderer. My wolf eagerly homed in on the fruity scent.

Their attention to details and screening process shows the love they have for each puppy. Before I place a five-hundred-dollar deposit to secure my spot on the long waiting list, I need to discuss this with Jackson and Kennedy. Both grew up with pets. They love dogs. Thinking about it now, I’m surprised they don’t own a dog. Jackson’s family owned two Siberian Huskies. I fell in love with them while living there. My queen bed felt like a twin as both large dogs slept nightly with me. They are the reason Pomskies interest me.

~Dex’s Point of View~ *Damn I’m so full, now we need a nap,* Kent says, nearly falling over. Our eyes wander to our mate who is licking her paws clean, happy with a full belly. While a massive sense of pride fills me for providing for my girl, I need to get her away from this deer, and the corpse that isn’t far. Kent pushes with all he’s got to stand, then we find the clothes and pick them up. Thankfully, Dakota’s wolf gets the hint and we take off.

Duko shakes out his black fur and stalks toward Bandit’s wolf. Duko is easily twice the size of Bandit’s wolf. His wolf begins to tremble as I get closer. He knows he made a mistake. Duko leaps forward and pins Bandit’s wolf to the ground. Duko gives him the opportunity to submit, but Bandit’s wolf continues to try and bite me. ‘Kill him,’ I tell Duko. ‘Gladly,’ Duko replies. Duko snaps his jaws down around Bandit’s wolf’s neck and rips his throat from his body. Duko shakes wildly before tossing the throat to the side.

Sure enough, Truk's nose twitches, and a moment later, I see something jump—literally jump—under his fur thong. Something big. “Well, let's skin these hares,” says Dog. There is a hint of annoyance in his voice, probably because Truk has returned. The two Alphas began skinning the animals, Dog with my carbon steel combat knife and Truk with his primitive chipped obsidian dagger. As I watch them, I begin to get the impression that they are competing, both trying to show off their skills to impress me - to show me who will be the best at taking care of me here in the wild.

Taking a deep breath, he wondered why he could not detect the presence of a werecat. “It’s a blocker and shampoo, ” the postal worker admitted, seeing Wyatt’s confusion. “I’m mated to a Donskoi; I think you call them pila.” “It’s a breed of hairless dog…” Wyatt explained. “Same with Donskoi, but a cat.”

The manager showed a poodle to her, but she shook her head because her eyes fell on a brown Alaskan Malamute with light blue eyes that looked so clear. “I want this one.” Waylon and Colton looked at each other. They knew she would pick this large sled dog. It was fluffy and looked safe, so a lot of girls loved them. The manager checked the dog while Maisie sat on the side and rested her head in her hand. It was quiet and didn’t look very cheeky. “I want to name it.” Colton crossed his arms. “Can you give it a normal name, please?” He didn’t ask for it to be a fun name.

She tells me enthusiastically, her little body bouncing around in my grasp. My widened eyes meet Derrick’s gaze over Hayden’s head, a question in their depths. As if sensing where my thoughts are headed, Derrick speaks before I can ask. “The pack breeds dogs in a large facility back behind the packhouse.” He smiles down at Hayden before asking, “Which one was your favorite?” A serious expression appears on Hayden’s angelic face as she thinks over Derrick’s question. “ I liked the wolf the best.” She says after a moment of thought, her eyes lighting up at the reminder of her favorite dog.