Wheeler Paw Patrol Novels & Stories

If you lived here, you wanted the world to know you were afraid of something. I lifted the binoculars and swept the boundary. Four-man patrol on the quarter hour, all in matching tan Carhartts, black softshell vests, no logos. Two on foot, two with dogs. One of the dogs was a purebred Malinois, the kind the DOD started breeding after the last batch of German Shepherds aged out. The other was…something else. Not a wolf, not exactly, but the kind of animal you’d get if a werewolf spent ten years as a Navy SEAL and then decided to become a dog for tax reasons.

Rex explained. "To be honest, the 7 packs are the youngest wolves we know. I didn't always run with the pack I run with now. I used to be one of Jo's Rogues. I am half Royal, half Lunari." As soon as Shyfter said he ran with the Rogues, Rex's wolf emerged and melded with his human instinctively.

The air was electric with energy, filled with the sound of their excited barks and playful growls, as the grassy field became their canvas for youthful antics. My pup, Alma, with her sleek, dark coat that seemed to shimmer in the light, bounded joyfully across the meadow. Her vibrant spirit matched that of Matt’s pup, Sionavar—Sion for short—whose striking silver fur caught the sunlight like a beacon. Alice’s pup, Kerian, was undeniably mischievous, with sparkling green eyes and a quick, darting movement that always kept him a step ahead. Kim’s pup ZaZu, adorned with unique patches of gray and black, gilded gracefully through the grass, while Cam’s pup Rema, the largest of the group, exuded

And I just sat there, silent, watching them. Torn between the past and the future. Between what I wanted. And what they deserved. They finished their plates soon after, syrup sticking to their hands and cheeks. Jake licked his fingers and giggled. "Mama! Can we go watch Paw Patrol now? Please please pleaaaase?" Kate asked, hopping out of her chair. Blake jumped up, nearly knocking his juice over. "Yeah! It’s the new one! The pirate one!" Jake slid off his seat with his blanket dragging behind. "I like the dog with the hat."

--- Rage followed Rex on his first patrol into the North. The grey wolf was too old to run much anymore. But its grandson, the small grey wolf Sylvan had brought back from the forest, was already grown. Rage had named him Firepaw—for the patch of dark red fur on his right front paw. He walked behind Rex with Firepaw at his side, across the ice plains for a whole day. When he returned, his boots were covered in frozen soil and ice chips. He ran to Luna and held up the small handful of thistle root tendrils clutched in his fist for her to see.