Being a hunting dog meant I had a small fur coat, shorthaired, not meant for the cold. When I was with the mean man who made me hunt animals, he used to put a coat on me that kept me warm in the snow. So as I trudged through the snow, a blizzard beginning to form, I thought about all my friends I had lost. Goldie, Nellie (whom I killed, but didn't mean too.... I still feel bad about it.), Cody and many more of which I cannot think of. Why was I out here, gonna die in this stupid storm? Why wasn't I back at the shed, cuddled up to Buddy and Gracie, not worrying what happens to the pups? "Those stupid puppies can find their own way home!" I angrily thought to myself. But a tiny voice in my head said, You're rescuing them because you love them. They're puppies, the don't know any better than to walk out in the storm. You are doing it for Buddy and Gracie, for they would surely die if they attempted to walk into this snowy blizzard. You have to do it. I sighed, why do those tiny voices always have to be right? So many questions... I snapped back to the present as I came to a road. Surely the pups couldn't of gone this far? But the scent that still was in my nose told me to keep going and follow the trail. Up ahead, I heard small yips and barks! "TUCKER!! DELILAH!! PUPPIES!!!!" I howled frantically! Even if they were out there, barking to me, the wind drowned their calls of despair. Suddenly I saw them! My heart skipped a beat.... up ahead, by a ice cold river a fox held one puppy in his mouth and the other under his paws. Delilah was in his mouth... and she was dead.
