CANDACE FLEMING

Strongheart: The Story Of A Wonder Dog 

 

ph_Strongheart_-_Dec_1921_Photoplay240pixHere’s the first chap­ter from a mid­dle grade nov­el to be pub­lished by Schwartz-Wade Books based on the life of a real dog, stage named Strongheart—the first canine star in Hollywood.

THE PUPPY

It was anoth­er care­free day, and Etzel had lots to do.

He tipped over the water bowl, turn­ing the barn floor into splash­ing pud­dle of fun.

He chased the chick­ens, delight­ing in squawk and flap.

And he gulped down the last of the kib­ble, lick­ing the bowl to shiny emptiness.

Then tired and full, he flopped onto the pile of pup­pies nes­tled in the curve his mother’s belly.

His sis­ter Gre­ta nipped his ear.

His broth­er Otto yipped a complaint.

But Etzel just wig­gled down between them, and sighed.

His family.

He closed his eyes. Then—

“Here’s a big, hand­some one,” a man’s voice boomed.

Rough hands tore Etzel away and held him high.

The pup­py whim­pered. His paws flailed in the sud­den­ly cold air.

“Just look at those mark­ings,” the voice boomed again. “Only pure­bred Ger­man Shep­herds have those. And the teeth—“

Rude fin­gers pulled back Etzel’s lips.

“With the right train­ing they could tear a man to shreds. Should we take him?

“Yes,” rum­bled a sec­ond voice. “And we will turn him into the fiercest guard dog on the Berlin police force.”

The hands shoved Etzel into a can­vas bag.

His moth­er barked.

Gre­tel and Otto yelped.

And in the bag’s dark­ness Etzel shiv­ered and whined as the sounds of his hap­py pup­py­hood fad­ed away.

 
ETZEL, TOUGH AND FIERCE

Tossed into a cage of cement and bars, the gates of the police ken­nel slammed shut behind Etzel.

He cried. For his moth­er. For Gre­ta. For Otto.

A sharp boot kick silenced him.

But that first night when all was still, Etzel again griev­ed for his fam­i­ly. He whim­pered. He yelped. He yowled.

Too loud.

After that, Etzel strayed off into a far cor­ner of the fenced-in yard where he cried out his grief with qui­et whimpering.

Weeks passed.

Months, too.

Etzel’s life became one of drilling, march­ing and snap­ping to commands.

“Halt!”

“Heel!”

“Attack!”

No tail wag­ging was allowed.

No play­ing permitted.

Angry voic­es and even angri­er fists forced the joy out of Etzel. And he became exact­ly what they wanted—a cold, uncar­ing police dog.

On duty, he was fierce and aggres­sive. He bris­tled at strangers. He snarled at tres­passers. He lunged and slashed at law-breakers.

Off duty, he was dis­tant and aloof. He trust­ed no one. Why should he? The world as he knew it was bleak and bru­tal, a place with­out warmth, a place where caress­es and kind words did not exist.

But some­times in the cold lone­li­ness of his ken­nel, Etzel dreamed about the soft curve of his mother’s bel­ly and the play­ful nip of Greta’s teeth on his ear. He dreamed about the smell of kib­ble on Otto’s breath.

And Etzel sighed into an uneasy sleep. 

 

3 Responses

  1. No chal­lenge too great?
    After study­ing the likes of Mary Todd Lin­coln, Amelia Earhart and the Romanov Fam­i­ly, you take the read­er inside the mind and heart of a dog.
    A bril­liant arc in the first chap­ter, from inno­cence and play to harsh drill and bru­tal­i­ty, you’ve skill­ful­ly got the read­er won­der­ing how Etzel can pos­si­bly find love and con­tent­ment again.
    Bravo!

  2. “But some­times in the cold lone­li­ness of his ken­nel, Etzel dreamed about the soft curve of his mother’s bel­ly and the play­ful nip of Greta’s teeth on his ear. He dreamed about the smell of kib­ble on Otto’s breath.

    And Etzel sighed into an uneasy sleep.” 

    I read these last two para­graphs over and over to let the beau­ty of the words and the sen­so­ry images sink in … LOVELY!

  3. I like how you includ­ed words like rough hands and rude so I could paint a pic­ture in my mind.
    I want to keep read­ing more. Please, please please keep writ­ing and fin­ish this. I want to read the whole book!!

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