Fiction Books About Dogs Novels & Stories

Even they knew not to bite the hand that fed them, not too hard anyway. "They are lovely animals," Ishaq said without thinking, feeling too at ease around his master to feel fear. "The dogs where I used to live were mostly feral. Their job was to reduce rats and other vermin, but of course they also became quite territorial. I was chased on more than one occasion." Am-Heh gave a sound that seemed remarkably like a chuckle, giving Ishaq a small lift of confidence. "May I speak more candidly, great one?"

My hearing was not so sharp, but even I heard the sirens gradually approaching. - Kira! the phone screamed. - Can you hear me? - I hear, - I answered, catching Grisha's heavy glance. - Do not say anything! I will now! And, Kira... - Mikhail sniffled into the phone. - Your wolfhound is wanted. Get rid of him.

May the last man standing win. He got to a part of the large fence that was farthest away from the guards patrolling. They assumed no one would attempt to break in from there because that’s where the dog pens were, and they were right. The dogs were almost as large as some werewolves themselves, and feral, bred to kill and infused with black magic. A wolf was better off fighting wolves like himself than taking up Matteo’s hounds. But Caden wasn’t worried. The hounds knew him. He had played, fought, and fed them. They would never harm him. He just hoped they remembered his scent fast enough before ripping him apart first.

Pockets—the corgi-sized, Leonberger-furred, big-hearted hero of this tale. I had been with them through it all: the moments of fear that shadowed Makayla, the fiery anger that flared in Lilac’s chest, the blizzard that had roared outside, the jolt of that car crash, and the silence that fell over us when the humans lost their ability to communicate. I was their silent sentinel—nudging, barking, curling up close when things felt unbearable, even staring down anyone who dared to intimidate my girls into retreating.

DAMIAN BLACKWOOD Those three days were the longest I had ever endured. For the first time, I understood why he cherished his dogs so much. A dog is often dismissed as nothing more than an animal, most likely because they only bark, wag, and play. Maybe it was because I was not a big fan of the species, but I quickly realised that their barks, whines, yelps, and howls all meant something profound to them, and they were better feelers than I was.

The wolf licked my arm. “Nothing and no one but you. If I can manage to convince myself to believe Tea and Ebony. But if you ask me, they kind of seem like they’re on drugs.” The wolf snorted, and my lips curved upward. “Glad to hear that you agree with me.” My fingers stroked his fur. “I used to have a dog. Chewbacca. She made everything better. But she passed a few months before I graduated high school, and college dorms don’t allow dogs. Not big ones, at least, unless you’ve got a medical reason. Which I don’t, so here I am.”

We walked out of the dungeon and he locked the door, then we went down the hall to the other side, which was more like an animal shelter, where we locked away animals that had gone berserk. “Helen’s owner had asked that she be killed to put her out of her sorrow,” Hark said as he stood in front of a cage. A white furred dog was in there– I couldn’t tell the breed, but it was huge and it kept snapping and growling at it. I nodded at Hark, waiting for how he wanted to use this dog to prove his point. He opened the food and placed it inside the cage for the dog to eat. It rushed it instantly and Hark barely saved his arm.

The book had slipped from her lap onto the grass. And there.....just at the edge of the tree line, were two glowing eyes. She froze. The eyes moved closer. Slowly. Deliberately. A shape emerged from the shadows, and her breath caught in her throat. It was a dog. No—not just a dog. The biggest dog she'd ever seen. Easily the size of a small bear, with thick black fur and muscles that rippled under its coat as it stalked toward her. Its eyes glowed amber in the moonlight, fixed on her with an intensity that made her stomach flip.

Curiosity tugged at her to go to the library. She got out of the room and followed the path Alice had described. The library's doors creaked open, revealing rows of shelves stacked with books. The air was a bit dusty and cobwebs hung around. She wondered if people hardly came here. She trailed her fingers along the spines of the books until she found one titled: “The Lunar Bond, The mating of wolves” Her hand trembled slightly as she lifted the heavy book. She opened it, reading in silence about bonds, instinct and transformations.

Miss you guys. Then I drop the phone again. My hands are shaking slightly. The silence of the large, unfamiliar room hums around me, a waiting silence. I break it first. “So, Isla… what are wolves actually like? Besides possessive and obsessed with titles.” She chuckles, a comforting, rolling sound in my mind. "Depends on the wolves, really. These ones? Traditional. Bound to cultures, customs, rituals, and strict hierarchy. Honestly, they cling to traditions more than any other supernatural creature I know. It's their method of staying grounded and hidden."