DohReyMe&theKitties3-ch1

– one of the fiction books written by Michael K. Hurder © [2025]

The seed for this sequel was planted when I sent Shorty over the cliff without declaring his outright death in Doh-Rey-Me. Well, here we are. I have to say, this is far more enjoyable to me than writing Sci-Fi. Calling it Sci-Fi is a stretch. The Rift ran to fantasy right before my very eyes and I couldn’t stop it. I wrote most of that after 10 pm and before 3 am, so the results as I stated were not optimal. I plan to revisit that at some point (or not) just to clean up the final cut. I hate leaving things undone. I also promised a full text of the original Doh-Rey-Me for the faithful among you. It’s coming too. I plan to set up a page dedicated to my writing, to facilitate a clean separation of the writing and Photo part of the Photo&Book Store. Stored within will be my books for sale and my free books. I will replace the chapter-by-chapter versions here now with a complete book in one file. For future reference…

About this iteration of the Wolf Saga, I am crafting a template for this sequel. When complete I’ll just have to plug in the new narrative and images for each chapter without having to build all the other parts of the posts each time I publish a new chapter. I am still hell bent on maintaining a high SEO score, so there are certain elements that need to be part of each post to satisfy the SEO requirements. Silly as some of them seem, like having a power word, a positive or negative word and a number in the SEO Title, that is posted on social media as a lead in; it all contributes to a higher score and that places your content higher in the search rankings. Some of them are comical. Anyway, every post will have the same header and footer and a few more identical properties.

One more note: I almost have Grok using the exact same models for the images, but you’ll still see discrepancies. I’m thinking if I want Grok to REALLY think harder and to be super critical of itself, I’ll need to subscribe to Super Grok. $30/mo. Yuck! On_With_The_Show

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Begin: Doh Rey Me & the Kitties 3

Chapter 1: The Ledge of Hope

The High Sierras had a way of holding onto secrets, whispering them through the pines and across the granite faces that towered like ancient sentinels. In the aftermath of the blizzard that had blanketed the region in a thick shroud of white, the air was crisp and still, carrying the faint scent of thawing earth and distant woodsmoke. Down in the valley, the rescue teams had wrapped up what they thought was the end of a tragic tale. The traffickers’ camp was a smoldering ruin, the girls—brave souls like Jess—were en route to hospitals and reunions with families who had feared the worst. But up on the ridge, where the wind howled like a mournful spirit, Slammer the retired military working dog paced relentlessly, his whines piercing the quiet.

An old man prayed for salvation…and yelled himself hoarse for help.

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Base camp

Jess, the striking blonde with wavy hair that caught the light like summer wheat and blue eyes sharp as mountain streams, clutched her father’s arm as they stood at the base of the operation’s command post. Her father, Mr. Harlan— a tall, broad-shouldered man with salt-and-pepper hair and a face etched from years in boardrooms—looked down at her with a mix of exhaustion and resolve. “Jess, honey, the rangers say it’s over. They searched the area. Shorty’s… he’s gone. That fall was hundreds of feet.”

But Jess shook her head, her necklace—a simple silver pendant shaped like a wolf’s paw—glinting in the pale sunlight. “No, Dad. Slammer knows. Look at him.” She pointed to the big German Shepherd, whose black-and-tan coat was matted with snow and dirt from his vigil. Slammer tugged at his leash, held firmly by a ranger, his amber eyes fixed on the distant ridge. He let out a series of sharp barks, then whined again, pawing at the ground as if urging them forward. “He wouldn’t act like this if Shorty was really gone. Remember how he found me in the storm? Dogs know things we don’t.”

The rangers exchanged glances. One of them, a weathered woman named Ranger Rebekah Ellis with short-cropped hair and a no-nonsense demeanor, rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “The dog’s been like this since we pulled him away. Inconsolable. And the girl here’s right—military dogs like Slammer have instincts honed sharper than a knife. If there’s even a chance…”

Mr. Harlan sighed, his breath fogging in the chill. He’d built a fortune in real estate development, turning barren lots into thriving communities, but nothing prepared him for this wild corner of the world. Yet seeing his daughter’s determination, the fire in her eyes that reminded him so much of her mother, he nodded. “Alright. Let’s mount another search. I’ll cover the costs—choppers, gear, whatever it takes. But we do it smart. No risks.”

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Mounting a Rescue

Word spread quickly among the rescuers. Aiyanna, or Aiya as her friends called her, was one of the other rescued girls who’d bonded with Jess during their ordeal. A fiery Latina with long, wavy dark hair that cascaded like a raven’s wing, freckles dusting her sun-kissed cheeks, and brown eyes that sparkled with mischief and resolve, Aiya had been the one to rally the others in the traffickers’ camp. Now, recovering in a nearby medical tent, she overheard the plan and insisted on joining. “I’m coming too,” she declared, her voice strong despite the bandages on her arms from scrapes during her escape. “Shorty saved us all. And those animals—Doh, Rey, Me, Chins, Itzy, Bitsy—they’re family now. If Slammer says he’s alive, I believe it.”

Her family, a close-knit group from the Central Valley, had arrived hours earlier, enveloping her in hugs and prayers. Her mother, a petite woman with the same fierce eyes, crossed her arms. “Aiyanna, mija, you’ve been through enough. The forest is no place—” But Aiya cut her off gently. “Mama, please. I have to. For them.” After a tense discussion, her parents relented, moved by her passion and the stories of Shorty’s heroism.

By midday, a new rescue operation was underway. Two helicopters lifted off from the Merced Ranger Station, their rotors slicing through the thin mountain air. Slammer rode in the lead chopper with Jess, Aiya, and Ranger Ellis, his tail thumping excitedly as they ascended. The wolves and cougar cubs—Doh with his sleek gray fur and commanding presence, Rey the playful silver-tipped female, Me the smallest with her curious golden eyes; Chins the bold cougar cub with his distinctive white chin patches, Itzy and Bitsy the spirited sisters—were safely penned at the station, under the watchful eyes of veterinarians. The animals had been corralled with surprising ease, as if they sensed the humans were allies, though Doh’s low howls echoed their unease.

The Chopper dropped Jess, Aiya, and Ranger Ellis near the top of the precipice, then it lifted and moved over to the edge for a better look. As the chopper hovered near the ridge, Slammer’s excitement peaked. He barked furiously, straining toward the edge where Shorty had plummeted with the trafficker leader, Caesar. Rappel lines were dropped, and a team of climbers descended, guided by Slammer’s insistent signals from above. Jess and Aiya watched from above, hearts pounding. “There!” one climber shouted over the radio. “Movement below the first drop—about 30 feet down on a ledge!”

The old man

Shorty lay there, his long gray hair matted with blood and dirt, his bushy beard streaked with grime. His weathered face, lined from years of sun and sorrow, was twisted in pain. The white parka, fur-lined and stained with mud and blood, hung raggedly over his sturdy frame. His gloved hands clutched at his shattered left arm, elbow and wrist swollen and useless. He’d let go of Caesar in that fateful split-second, grabbing for a rocky outcrop that broke his fall but not his spirit. Below him, the abyss yawned, a sheer drop to jagged rocks far below. “Damn fool,” he muttered to himself, his voice hoarse. “Shoulda known better than to tango with death again.” But alive he was, cursing the pain and the cold that seeped into his bones.

The climbers reached him carefully, assessing his injuries. “Sir, can you hear us? We’re here to get you out.” Shorty grunted, his eyes flickering open. “Took ya long enough. Slammer… where’s my dog?” The reassurance came quickly, and as they rigged a harness to lift him, Shorty’s thoughts drifted to his pack—the wolves and cubs he’d sworn to protect. The ascent was slow, painful, but when he crested the edge, Slammer was there, lunging forward to lick his face, tail wagging like a flag in the wind.

Jess and Aiya rushed to him as the chopper landed nearby. “Shorty!” Jess cried, tears streaming down her cheeks. She knelt beside him, her hand gentle on his good arm. Aiya, ever the bold one, grinned through her own tears. “You old goat, scaring us like that. We thought we’d lost you.” Shorty managed a weak chuckle, his voice gravelly. “Takes more than a tumble to finish this vet. Now, where’s my critters?”

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Reunion

The reunion at the ranger station was nothing short of miraculous. As Shorty was loaded into an ambulance for the hospital, the animals were brought out. Doh led the wolves, his muscular frame padding forward with a dignified trot, while the cougar cubs tumbled playfully at his heels. Slammer stood proud, the pack leader for now, though Doh’s alpha instincts were growing. Shorty reached out with his good hand, ruffling fur and earning affectionate nuzzles. “Good kids,” he murmured. “We’re all gonna be alright.”

In the days that followed, as Shorty recovered in the hospital—his arm in a cast, ribs bruised but mending—conversations turned to the future. Mr. Harlan visited often, bringing updates on the legal fallout from the traffickers. “You’ve got a gift, Shorty,” he said one afternoon, sitting by the bed. “Not just with that camera of yours, but with these animals. Jess won’t stop talking about them. Says we have to save them, give them a home.”

Shorty stroked his beard thoughtfully. “Ain’t no zoo for ’em. They belong in the wild, but… they ain’t ready. Need a place to learn, to grow.” That’s when the idea sparked. Mr. Harlan, with his business acumen, saw the potential. “A refuge. Right here in the Sierras. I can fund it—land, permits, experts. Western Geographic’s already calling; they want to feature it, keep you on payroll.”

Perry, Shorty’s old combat buddy, flew in from the magazine’s headquarters. “Shorty, you crazy son of a gun. This could be bigger than our exposes. A sanctuary for wolves and big cats, orphaned critters from the high country. We’ll document it all—your photos, stories. Therapeutic for you too, brother.”

They assembled a team: animal experts from the Fish and Wildlife Service, veterinarians specializing in wild predators, and land surveyors familiar with the alpine terrain beyond Cathedral Peak. Mr. Harlan negotiated with the National Park Service and Bureau of Land Management for a special lease—hundreds of acres in the tundra highlands, where the air was thin and the views endless. “It’s remote,” one expert noted, “perfect for minimal human interference, but close enough for monitoring.”

Equipment rolled in: sturdy enclosures that mimicked natural habitats, with rocky dens for the cougars and forested runs for the wolves. Lodging was built—rustic cabins with solar power, a central lodge for operations. Feed sources were established: partnerships with local hunters for roadkill donations, sustainable meat suppliers for supplements. Licenses were a hurdle—wildlife rehabilitation permits, endangered species handling certifications—but Shorty’s veteran status and the publicity from the rescue smoothed the path.

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Becoming Pros

Shorty, Jess, and Aiya all enrolled in animal husbandry classes. Shorty grumbled through the online sessions from his hospital bed. “I been livin’ with beasts longer than these professors been breathin’.” Jess excelled, her enthusiasm infectious, while Aiya’s fiery determination pushed her through. Aiya’s family visited the hospital, meeting Shorty and Slammer. “This man saved our girl,” her father said, shaking Shorty’s hand. “If she wants to help, we won’t stand in the way.” They saw the bond, the healing in it, and gave their blessing.

By spring, the Sierra Sanctuary was born—a haven in the high country, where granite peaks pierced the sky and wildflowers bloomed in defiant colors. The pack was transported there, settling in with wary curiosity. The wolves roamed their enclosure, howling at the moon, while the cougar cubs climbed and pounced, their tawny fur blending with the rocks.

As summer approached, Jess and Aiya—school-aged and eager—prepared for their first full season at the refuge. “This is just the beginning,” Jess said, hugging Aiya. “We’re family now—all of us.”

But the wilds had more in store. Whispers of orphaned animals reached them: a bear cub separated from its mother, fox kits in distress. The crew would grow, challenges await, but with Shorty at the helm, Slammer by his side, and the girls’ unyielding spirit, the sanctuary promised adventure and hope.

The months of planning blurred into action. Shorty, arm healed enough to grip his camera, stood at the sanctuary’s gate, overlooking the vast expanse. Slammer sat loyally at his feet, while Doh, now larger and more assertive, watched from the enclosure. Jess and Aiya arrived with backpacks slung over their shoulders, ready for chores. “Let’s get to work,” Shorty said, a grin cracking his bearded face. “These kids ain’t gonna feed themselves.”

The girls dove in, bottle-feeding the youngest cubs, cleaning dens, and learning tracking skills. The wolves grew more independent, venturing farther during supervised releases, but always returned for affection. The cougars, true to form, were bundles of trouble—knocking over water buckets, ambushing each other in playful hunts. “Watch your back, old man,” Aiya teased as Itzy pounced on Shorty’s bootlaces.

One evening, as the sun dipped behind Cathedral Peak, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple, Shorty gathered them around a campfire. “This place… it’s more than a refuge. It’s redemption.” Jess nodded, her blue eyes reflecting the flames. “For all of us.”

Yet dangers lurked; poachers rumored in the valleys, harsh weather on the horizon. But together, they faced it, one paw print at a time.

(to be continued: Chapter#2 – Foundations in the High Country)

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From Popi’s Tales & The Book of Wonders – Discover Shorty’s Sierra Menagerie

To start from the beginning? Go here: DohReyMe&theKitties3 [Chapter1]

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More from Popi’s Collection of Facts & Fiction

• Burtt the Blade – fiction
• Doh – Rey – Me – fiction – book – written here
• Mystery of Willow Woods – fiction – short Story – written here
• The Last Signal – part one – fiction – book – written here
• Rift Guardians – chapter#1 – fiction – book – written here
• Shorty’s Path – non-fiction auto biography book

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