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416 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2007
His deep brown eyes looked at me with luminous appreciation and said, "You need a dog, and I'm it."
Unsettled by his uncanny read of me--I had been looking for a dog for over a year--I gave him a cordial pat and replied, "Good dog."
His tail beat steadily, and he didn't move, his eyes still saying, "You need a dog."
...he was still curled in his nest, looking directly at me.
"Hey," I said.
Up went one brow, down went the other.
"I am yours," his eyes said.
He now looked as if he were going to die. He didn't look in the least regretful, though. In fact, he wore a blissful smile.
"Merle." I leaned close to his ear, putting a hand gently on his belly. It was as tight as a drum.
He groaned painfully and opened his eyes. They were glassy. Faintly, he flopped his tail back and forth: "Let me die in peace."
(W)hat always impressed me about his behavior, especially when he'd lope back through the forest to fetch me, was his absolute sense that we were a team--that it was only through me and the rifle that he'd fulfill one of his greatest desires: to eat an animal as big as an elk.
that it was the newly domesticated wolves who were the initiators of the dog-human hunting partnership. They were the ones who scented and heard game first. They led the way toward it. They reaped the immediate benefits as the animals were field-dressed. Subsequently, it was the humans who realized, just as I did, that these were pretty handy friends to have around.