Long-Shot Gamble

Chapter Two

Bo Jangles led Renegade through the alleys, careful to avoid being noticed by the humans and their pets rushing along the streets. He walked with confidence, and smiled to himself as he caught his companion watching him swagger. The air was full of excitement. The bustle of that morning was nothing compared to the rush now. And that was just what the terrier-mix wanted.

Renegade chewed on the bone as they walked along. His eyes darted around, his nostrils quivered, and his cropped ears swiveled as he took in the sights and sounds. "This is so good, thanks." A small crack came from the bone. "Everyone looks busier than a wasp nest after Mike stones it."

"No problem. Butchers have the tastiest scraps." Bo licked his jaws, nose quivering himself. "But there's better if you know where to look." He trotted along, following a side street back to the main road through the small town. He poked his head around a corner and a grin split his face. "Bingo."

Directly down the street, just off the docks, a bored young man stood leaning against a food cart. He had just put his headphones in when they were jerked off his head.

"Put that blasted thing away!" An older man, clearing the younger's father, waved his hands at the crowd coming off the ferry. "How are you going to take orders if you're killing your hearing!?"

"This looks like a scene out of one of the kids' movies." Renegade shook his head, munching down on the bone. He fumbled his attempt to catch the pieces as it split in two. "Dang it!"

"Don't sweat it. Wait here." Bo barked, skipping out from around the corner to the older man. He dropped into a play bow and wagged his tail.

"Hey there, Bo Boy!" The man's face split into a grin. "You're looking for lunch, ain't ya, boy?"

"You bet!" Bo barked, knowing only the enthusiasm would translate. He reared back into a "begging" position and gave his best "puppy eyes".

The man reached into the cart and pulled out a string of hot dogs. He held them up, eyes twinkling. "This what you're after, boy? Is it? Is it?"

"Dad!" The younger man pouted, stuffing his Walkman back into his backpack. "How are we gonna make any money if you're feeding the merchandise to mongrels?"

Like you ain't a Heinz-57 yourself. Bo resisted the urge to growl in annoyance, both with the welp's snotty attitude and the man's tone. Humans were forever speaking to animals as if they lacked the intelligence of their own offspring before they were weaned. He wagged his tail instead.

The man shot his son a harsh stare. "It ain't coming out of your paycheck." He threw the links in Bo's direction before he resumed setting up shop for the day. "So don't worry about it."

Bo jumped into the air, catching the links and slinging them around his neck with a shake of his head. He barked again, then skipped back to Renegade. "Ta." He leaned in close to the other dog, batting his eyes. "Da."

"Slick," said Renegade, swallowing what remained of one half of the bone. He batted the remaining piece up into the air and caught it with a grin. "But I can do tricks, too."

"Nice." Bo's gaze was appreciative. "Very... nice." He gestured for Renegade to follow, then ducked back into the alley. "Still, I bet even your best act wouldn't land you a whole string of meat at home."

"No. More like land me in the dog house." Renegade folded his ears. He walked a single step behind Bo, chewing on the bone like some humans would a piece of gum. "Pops would go off if nothing else."

"And that's just it, Ren." Bo smiled back at him. He looked both ways, then trotted across the street. "I'd rather a full meal in freedom than half one in bondage."

Renegade rolled his eyes. "It's the other way around if you're gonna quote that old fable about the wolf and the house dog."

Renegade's neatly trimmed nails did not click against the pavement like Bo's did. He was neatly groomed, unlike Bo's scruffy appearance. The final touch that separated them was the bright red nylon collar that rested around the Doberman's neck, a matching plastic heart dangling from the ring alongside his license and rabies tag. The tags jingled with every step he took.

"How do you stand that racket hanging right under your chin?" Bo shook his head, grateful his own throat was bare. "I'd go insane if I had to listen to that all day."

"You get used to it." Renegade swallowed the last of the bone. "Though. I can take it off. They keep it loose enough it'll slip off if it gets caught on something."

"Better not. It'd be a pain to carry it around, since you're going home later." Bo looked away to hide the hope in his eyes. He sighed when Renegade agreed. Maybe one day... If he could just convince the other dog this life was better. But that kid holds him even when he ain't leashed.

The streets gave way to soft green grass as they left Main Street behind. Bo trotted through the park in the center of town, leading his companion past the playground and picnicking families. Live music filled the air. On the old stage, a band was playing country songs from decades gone by.

"Wait, there's some kind of festival goin' on now, ain't there?" Renegade eyed the crowd, the band, and sniffed at the delicious smells all around them. "Thought that wasn't for a few days."

"The big show ain't, but the middle days are better than the big bang at the end." Bo settled down under a tree out of the way but still in clear sight of the stage. He removed the string of meat from his neck and dropped it between them. He smiled at Renegade as the other dog lay down beside him.

"A meal and a show?" Renegade laughed, nodding at the stage. "Classy."

Bo chuckled as he picked up one end of the string. "Learned from the best, after all." He started munching, careful not to drop it.

Renegade picked up the other end and mimicked him, eyes on the stage. His ears twitched in time with the music, one paw tapping along.

I could get used to this. Bo closed his eyes, savoring the moment. There were only the sounds of the crowd, the music, and their smacking jaws. He felt a slight tug but continued to chew along the string. His eyes shot open when he felt a wet tongue brush his muzzle. The last of the meat went down his throat and he fought not to choke on it.

Renegade stared at him, expression full of the same shock Bo could feel in his own