Waggit Forever Read Free

Wilbur, who had been the evil lieutenant of the team’s former leader, Tashi, and a new dog none of the Tazarians knew. He was called Whippety Will and was the thinnest dog Waggit had ever seen. He looked like a fur-covered skeleton, as if he had no flesh on his bones at all. Even his tail was like a rat’s, and he shivered constantly, although it was a warm spring day. Whether his emaciated body was the result ofstarvation or simply his natural state was hard to tell, but neither Olang nor Wilbur looked like they needed feeding up.
    â€œFather,” Olang said when all three were on top of the rock, “how are you? You look good; older but good.”
    Despite his size and ferocious look Olang had a thin, reedy voice that sounded whiny and sarcastic at the same time.
    â€œI didn’t come here to exchange pleasantries with you, Olang,” Tazar snarled. “I came to see what solutions, if any, you and your miserable companions have to this situation that we all face.”
    â€œMy, my, Father.” Olang smirked, appearing to enjoy the effect his presence had on Tazar. “This hostility will get us nowhere. I came here in the spirit of friendly cooperation and hoped that you would too.”
    Waggit stepped in between them.
    â€œWe want to see if there is a way we can all continue to live in the park in peace, and if that means we must pool our resources, then so be it,” he said.
    â€œAh,” sneered Olang, “the saintly Waggit, the dog of dogs, the peacemaker. I doubt that any wussy ideas you have would appeal to us in any way. We are dogsof action, not pretty speeches.”
    â€œIt’s your actions that worry me,” said Tazar. “All you know is how to fight.”
    â€œSometimes, dear Father,” Olang said, “that is all you need to know.”
    â€œGentledogs, gentledogs.” Now it was Wilbur’s turn to speak, and he did so in his usual sly manner. “Let’s discuss this matter openly and frankly. We will tell you how we see things, and we will be more than willing to listen to any ideas that your team may have.” Those who had ever had any dealings with Wilbur knew that the last qualities you would associate with him were openness and frankness. “As we see it,” he continued, “the main problem we have is the one we always have—the Uprights. Get rid of the Uprights, and you solve all your troubles. Why is there no prey? The Uprights. Who persecutes us and takes us to the Great Unknown? The Uprights. Who tries to kill us with their rollers? The Uprights. Who controls most of the park now? The Uprights. It is time for us to take a stand. If we let them take over the Deepwoods End, we will have run out of places to move to. This is our last chance to protect what is rightfully ours.”
    â€œWhat you don’t realize,” said Tazar, “and what youhave never accepted, is that the Uprights do control everything. There is nothing they cannot do if they have a mind to. What we must do is to find ways to live given that simple fact. Declaring war on them is not an option.”
    â€œNot declaring war, Father,” Olang said with fake astonishment, as if this were the last thing he was thinking. “Not war, but hit-and-run tactics. An attack here, an attack there, and pretty soon all those Uprights who are sweeping and sawing and chopping down will be too scared to come to work. Then they’ll leave us alone, and the bushes will grow back and the animals will return and only then will we be able to live in the peace and harmony that Waggit’s wimpy heart longs for.”
    â€œAnd if your team joined forces with ours,” Wilbur said in his smarmiest voice, “then we would have the power to spread terror throughout the Deepwoods.”
    Slowly and deliberately, Tazar got up. He shook himself and then turned to Lowdown and Waggit.
    â€œCome on,” he commanded. “Let’s go.