Shore Line Run

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The waves gently hit the hull of the ship CORRAL. Up on deck Ryder and five pups watched the ocean. Fog was creeping in from somewhere, creating a  scene that reminded Zuma of shore lines in the morning. Meanwhile Rocky was with the captain of the ship Captain McCoy. 

"This doesn't look like Puerto Rico. In fact I bet we're way off course," Rocky said worried.

"Someone paid me three thousand dollars to take you all to some island near Ireland. So that's where we're headed," McCoy replied. Rocky's jaw dropped slightly. They weren't going to Puerto Rico, they were headed towards Ireland. That explained it. He left the Captain and dejectedly walked towards Ryder and the other pups. 

"We're not headed to vacation pups," he sighed. 

"So where are we headed?" Ryder asked, looking puzzled. 

"Some island near Ireland...."

Their plans for a vacation were over. They had finally gotten a break, and now this happened.  When Francois invited them to join him down in Puerto Rico they had excitedly said yes. When they had boarded the boat, visions of tropical beaches, palm trees, and fancy restaurants had filled their minds. Perhaps their minds were so busy thinking of what they would be doing when they got there, they failed to notice that instead of sailing in clear shining waters, they were in a deep swirling fog. They were supposed to be on a different ship. Now they were on the wrong one, and headed to the wrong place. 

"We'll figure it out., in the meantime lets worry about something else, " Chase said trying to cheer up. 

"I'm gonna go up by the Cap'. Maybe I can see why we were directed to this ship, instead of our cruise," Ryder said. 

"Can I come too?" Zuma asked. 

Ryder nodded and they went up.  The other pups waited and for a few minutes watched waves gently move, they enjoyed that. The waves were like stress relief, the way they moved calmly, and slowly. 

"I can see why Zuma loves the water so much," Rubble said. 

"Yeah..." the other pups agreed. 

"I'd like it to, if it weren't so wet," Rocky laughed. 

"Ohh Rocky," Marshall said.

Meanwhile Zuma was having a hard time trying to understand what McCoy was saying. Ryder would ask him something and he would grumble something else. 

"But why didn't you tell us that?" Ryder asked.

"The people on that island have been praying for a miracle for over three decades, or more. They need help," the old sailor said. 

"What do they need help with?" Zuma asked.

"For as long as some of the people can remember, the rulers of the island came from a family line. They were all the same. Cruel, greedy, and unfair. The people have been under that family line for decades, and decades."

"Why don't they leave?" Ryder asked.

"Can't. No ships are allowed into port, unless their the suppliers. But even if someone tried to get on board one of them... if found they were killed. We're lucky, there's one port that's not carefully guarded. But you never know."

"Yeah. Send a thirteen year old boy and six puppies to fight a ruler, or something like that, when you can barely enter port," Ryder scoffed.  

"Shh!" McCoy warned. 

"What?" Zuma asked. 

There was silence. The other pups joined them suddenly and they all sat in awkward silence, not knowing what was happening. 

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