2025/Patrick -31446

The snow and ice whistles outside the window, supplying it with a superb frost. The fire glowed warmly, spreading a dim yet orange light around the cabin. My owner sat in a broad chair, far too big for myself. However, this home was perfect, no matter if some of it was quite big. I listened to the crackle of the fire, glad I do not have to face the cold temperatures, or my terrible rescue trainer. I was considering what I would do on the wonderful snow day, when my owner's weird antenna box started making sounds. I bark angrily. I did not like some of my owners' weird and crude devices, I did not understand the weird sounds they made.

My owner jumped out of his chair, and talked to the box. Something was wrong and I knew it this time. He grabbed my red backpack with a cross on it and strapped it to my back. I was confused about how to feel, to resent this waste of a lazy day or to be ready for a full blown adventure. My owner opened the door and a chill went down my spine, it was freezing outside, the wind howled at me. I was tempted to howl back, but my owner was still putting on my harness. After it was completed, my owner donned his jacket and stepped out the door with me. It was hard to smell over the soil, but I smelled cigars and a moldy coat. Suddenly, I knew my mission. I had to rescue my horrible trainer.

I've never liked my trainer. He smelled like smoke and spoke in a harsh tone, demanding attention and never letting slack. Some other dogs received praise and treats, but all I received was punishment, even when I did my best, so you would understand that I was not especially inclined to rescue him. I stood still until my owner's voice awoke my thoughts. His words, whatever they meant, sounded urgent so I continued following the smoky, moldy scent. However, my mind raced, filled with the thoughts of why, why am I doing this? My owner followed me intently, for I was leading him to my trainer.

I admit, I had my moments where I would stop and decide it wasn’t worth going after my trainer, but my owner continued to urge haste, and would not let me stop. Suddenly, I realized that maybe my trainer would treat me differently if I rescued him! I tracked him with renewed vigor, only stopping to regain my bearing in the winter snow and trees that surrounded the area. At one point, I was worried that I had lost the scent to the wind, but I was able to recover; the smell of the smoke was getting stronger, and I concluded that my trainer was in the forest.

My ears shot up, I had heard the sound of teeth chattering in the snow. I saw my trainer, he was sheltered under a tree shivering with cold. My owner quickly called to him and he sat up straight. My owner helped him up and we made the trip back to the cabin with relative ease, for I would always remember the smell of my home. My owner sat my trainer into a chair near the fire, while I waited on the rug, warming myself. My trainer asked me to come to him. I obeyed, afraid of what might happen if I didn’t. He took a few treats from his pocket and handed them to me. I gratefully ate them, for they were my first ones from him. From that moment on, me and my trainer became good friends, and I would always remember that snow day.