– one of the fiction books written by Michael K. Hurder © [2025]
Read along as I create fiction. You might recognize at least one character. In the realm of make-believe, I’ve explored various themes and characters. This fiction is dearer to me than all the rest of my writing. I think you’ll know why – popi
Doh Rey Me & the Kitties 3
Chapter 6: Echoes of the Pack
The autumn winds swept through the High Sierras like restless spirits, carrying the crisp scent of falling aspen leaves and the faint, earthy promise of impending snow. The tundra beyond Cathedral Peak had transformed into a mosaic of gold and rust, wild grasses bending under the weight of morning frost, while granite spires stood sentinel against the deepening blue of the sky.
This was the season of transition, where the wilds shed their summer vibrancy for the stark beauty of winter’s approach—streams slowing to icy whispers, wildlife stockpiling for the long cold, and the air humming with the subtle urgency of survival. In the sanctuary, the “zoom” echoed this change, enclosures alive with the patter of paws and the occasional howl that pierced the quiet like a call to kinship.
Shorty—Mike Adams to those who knew his past, though the name felt like a relic from another life—leaned against the fence of the wolf run, his long gray hair braided loosely against the wind, bushy beard flecked with bits of hay from morning feedings. His weathered face, lined from Vietnam’s jungles and the Sierras’ unrelenting sun, held a contemplative gaze as he watched Doh lead Rey and Me through a playful chase.
The wolves had grown into magnificent adults: Doh’s sleek gray fur rippled over a powerful frame, his commanding eyes scanning the horizon; Rey’s silver-tipped coat gleamed like moonlight, her playful bounds full of grace; Me, the smallest with her golden accents, darted with curious energy. Slammer, the ever-loyal German Shepherd, lounged nearby, his black-and-tan coat groomed and alert, amber eyes reflecting the bond that had saved them all.
Jess approached quietly, her wavy blonde hair catching the light like threads of sunlight, blue eyes shadowed with a depth that spoke of unspoken burdens. She wore a practical wool sweater, her silver wolf-paw necklace a constant talisman. At sixteen, she carried herself with a quiet strength, but Shorty knew the ghosts that haunted her—the traffickers’ camp, the leader Caesar’s cruel choices that had marked her as the first to endure his abuses.
She’d been the one to escape initially, driven by desperation and a flicker of hope, stumbling through the blizzard to Shorty’s camp. The shame crept in during quiet moments, invading her sleep like shadows, but here, amid the animals and the vast Sierras, it found its salve. The wolves’ affectionate nuzzles, the cougars’ playful antics, and Shorty’s unyielding presence— a mountain man no fool would challenge—offered assurance that safety was real.
“Morning, Shorty,” Jess said, her voice soft but steady. She leaned on the fence beside him, watching the wolves. “Doh’s really stepping up as alpha. Think they’ll venture out more this fall?”
Shorty nodded, his gravelly voice thoughtful. “Aye, they’re ready. Nature’s callin’ ’em stronger now. But they’ll always circle back—pack’s pack.” He glanced at her, sensing the undercurrent. “You holdin’ up, kid? Dreams been kind?”
Jess hesitated, then shrugged with a small smile. “Better here. The mountains… they drown out the noise.” She didn’t elaborate, but Shorty understood—the Sierras were her refuge, a place where trauma faded against the grandeur of peaks and the loyalty of beasts. She hugged Slammer.
Aiya bounded over from the cougar enclosure, her long dark waves bouncing, freckles dancing across her sun-kissed cheeks, brown eyes alight with mischief. At fifteen, her fiery Latina spirit was a force, unbowed by the traffickers’ horrors. “Hey, you two! Chins just ambushed Itzy again—those cats are endless trouble. And Ember’s fur is growing back nicely; she’s purring like a motor.” She punched Jess’s arm lightly. “Ready for the new volunteer? Ranger Rebekah said she’s arriving today.”
Shorty’s brow furrowed. “Another one? We got our hands full with you troublemakers.”
Jess’s eyes lit up. “It’s Lari—Larianna. She was the third girl who escaped the camp, remember? Made it to your fire just before the storm cleared. Brunette with those intense green eyes, always sketching the animals. She’s volunteering this summer—well, what’s left of it before school ramps up.”
“I remember. Her feet were so bad I threw her over my shoulder and RAN up the mountain with her. Of course, I remember. Glad she wasn’t as heavy as Jess. Cripes! My back would still be healing.”
He barely ducked the clump of pine needles hurled his way. It was joke she and shorty shared from when she first showed at his camp and ate him out of house and home in two days. He took a chance on lightening her mood that horrible night. “Am I gonna be calling you chubby soon?” he asked.
Jess sprung an insulted look and then spit have a mouthful of crackers from her mouth while laughing like she hadn’t done in years. She was soon in tears as the tension oozed out of her leaning against the old man gripping his shirt for all she was worth so he wouldn’t leave her. Shorty put a protective arm around her until she fell asleep. Then he left commanding Slammer to “guard” the girl.
Shorty grunted in recollection. Lari had been a quiet shadow in the chaos, slipping away from the traffickers’ grasp with a determination born of quiet fury. She’d found her way to the camp with the last crew to escape, drawn by the wolves’ howls, found by Shorty and Slammer. Finally at a safe camp Shorty and Lari collapsed in sight of their cave. Lari’s feet were worn raw. Their tales of evasion rivaled any war story. Now, healed and eager, she wanted to give back, joining Jess and Aiya in the seasonal crew.
The Jeep’s rumble announced her arrival, dust kicking up along the access trail. Lari stepped out, her shoulder-length brunette hair framing a face with high cheekbones and piercing green eyes that held a mix of wariness and wonder. Slim and athletic from hikes in her hometown foothills, she wore hiking boots and a backpack slung over one shoulder. “Shorty! Jess, Aiya—it’s good to see you all upright.” Her voice carried a light accent, a blend of her mixed heritage, warm yet edged with resilience.
Aiya hugged her fiercely. “Lari! You made it. Come meet the new orphans— we’ve got a wolverine kit now, fierce little guy named Spike.”
Lari’s eyes softened as she knelt to greet Slammer, who nuzzled her hand. “I couldn’t stay away. This place… it saved me too.” Like Jess, she carried scars from the camp, but the animals’ unconditional acceptance had begun her healing. Volunteering was her way forward, summers dedicated to the sanctuary before school pulled her back.
The day dove into action, the girls—now a trio—diving into chores with infectious energy. Jess led Lari to the lynx enclosure, where Ghost, Shadow, and Whisper practiced hunts in the fading haze. “They’re almost ready for release,” Jess explained, her blue eyes watching the cubs’ graceful leaps. Lari sketched quickly in her notebook, capturing Whisper’s bold pounce. “They’re poetry in motion. How do we prep them for winter?”
Roland Chapmann joined them, his lanky frame adjusting wire-rimmed glasses as he explained tracking collars and phased freedoms. “We’ll monitor via satellite—ensure they adapt to snow hunts.” The wildlife expert’s knowledge was a cornerstone, his stories of Sierra fauna weaving education with adventure.
Jake emerged from the cabin, tools in hand for enclosure expansions. His presence had become a steady anchor, the awkwardness with Shorty evolving into mutual respect. “Lari, right? Heard about your escape—brave stuff. I’m Jake, Shorty’s son.” He shook her hand, his hazel eyes kind. Lari nodded, sensing the family’s tentative mending. “Nice to meet you. This place brings people together, huh?”
As the group worked, echoes of the pack resonated. The wolves grew bolder, Doh leading nocturnal howls that drew responses from distant wild packs— a haunting symphony under the stars. The cougars—Chins with his white chin patches, Itzy and Bitsy the dynamic duo—honed their independence, disappearing for longer jaunts but returning for affectionate rubs. Bruno the bear cub prepared for hibernation drills, gorging on donated salmon scraps, his black fur plush and round. Fox kits Flick and Flame zoomed playfully, red coats flashing like autumn leaves.
But the Sierras’ dangers tainted the idyll. Ranger Rebekah Ellis radioed a warning: “Storm brewing—early snow possible. And those poachers? Tracks spotted again, closer this time.” Her team—Josie with botanical insights on winter forage, Chase scouting trails, Roger tweaking weather sensors—promised support. “Merced Station’s on alert.”
The poachers’ threat materialized mid-afternoon. Aiya, on perimeter patrol with Lari, spotted a snare near the boundary—wire loop baited with rabbit remains. “Look at this,” Aiya hissed, her brown eyes flashing. Lari’s green gaze narrowed. “They’re getting bold. We need to tell Shorty.”
The crew convened, Shorty gripping his walking stick like a staff. “Bastards preying on the weak. We’ll set watches—Jake, you and me tonight.” Jess’s face paled slightly, echoes of the traffickers stirring, but she squared her shoulders. “I’ll join. The animals need us.”
That evening, as clouds gathered like omens, the sanctuary buzzed with preparation. The girls bottle-fed Spike the wolverine kit, his stocky body and masked face a bundle of ferocity, orphaned by a landslide. “He’s like a mini bear with attitude,” Lari laughed, dodging his playful nips. Jess shared her backstory quietly during the session—the abuse from Caesar, the shame that lingered like smoke. “It creeps in, but here… it fades.” Lari nodded, her own escape a mirror. “I get it. I ran third, after you and Aiya showed it was possible. We’re survivors.”
Night fell with a chill, stars veiled by gathering storm. Shorty, Jake, and Jess patrolled, flashlights cutting through flurries. Slammer growled low, leading them to fresh tracks—boot prints circling the cougar den. “They’re after pelts,” Shorty muttered. A shadow moved—two figures tampering with the fence.
“Hey!” Jake shouted, rifle raised in warning. The poachers startled, one dropping tools before fleeing into the woods. Chase, on standby, radioed pursuit from Merced, but the storm swallowed them. “We’ll track ’em come dawn,” Rebekah assured over comms.
Back at the fire pit, the crew warmed with stew, bonds tightening. “Close call,” Aiya said, hugging Lari. Jess leaned on Shorty. “Thanks for being our mountain man.” He ruffled her hair. “Pack sticks together.”
The storm hit overnight, blanketing the tundra in white—an early taste of winter’s grip. Morning revealed a wonderland: enclosures dusted in snow, animals frolicking. The wolves howled joyfully, Doh bounding through drifts. The lynx cubs tested paws on the powder, their adaptations shining. “Perfect training,” Roland noted.
But the poachers’ escape lingered, a taint on the peace. Rebekah’s team found their camp abandoned, gear seized. “They’re gone—for now,” she reported.
As days shortened, the girls’ volunteering deepened. Lari’s sketches captured moments: Jess with the wolves, Aiya wrestling cubs, Shorty and Jake mending fences. “This is family,” Lari said one sunset, green eyes reflecting the alpenglow.
Yet whispers of a rogue wolf pack—displaced by the storm—hinted at new challenges. Tracks neared, howls challenging Doh’s authority.
The sanctuary endured, echoes of the pack growing stronger.
Renewal followed storm: animals adapting to snow, crew planting winter barriers. Spike the wolverine dug burrows, Ember the bobcat pounced on flakes.
The poacher threat faded, but vigilance remained. Jake’s photos documented it, shared with Western Geographic—Perry was thrilled. “You guys. Whatever you send me is gold. We have people from frikkin Uzbekistan inquiring about the Sanctuary. You’re famous and the Magazine is raking it in. Folks can’t wait for the next update. It’s GOLD, I tell you.” his enthusiasm bubbling over on the radio
Jess confronted her shame in a quiet moment with Shorty. “It doesn’t define you,” he said. “You’re stronger than mountains.”
Lari volunteered fully, her family visiting, embracing the healing.
A new orphan: a snowy owl fledgling, wing clipped by wind. The girls named it Frost; its white plumage blended with drifts. The girls happily and painstakingly rehabbed another needy critter, teaching flight in enclosures.
Autumn’s end brought releases. The first to go were the fox kits into the wild, collars beeping farewells. “Go free,” Aiya whispered with a prayer of good fortune and a few tears.
The rogue pack approached one afternoon; a confrontation was brewing. Doh’s leadership was tested. He withstood this first challenge without a fight.
Jake bridged fully with Shorty: “I’m proud to be your son. You’ve done so much here. Our talks have sorted out my anger about your absence. I think I understand. Mom always could and I could never understand why. At least I can see the pain in your eyes when you talk about it. Just so you know, dad, we don’t ever have to talk about that shit ever again. I’m good. I love you.” Hugs mended years.
Weaving healing and hazard, the Sierras’ eternal dance.
As autumn whispered it’s approach, poachers returned, bolder than ever, or more desperate. A trap sprung on Chins, and panic ensued. The team could hear the little guy yowling but had some trouble finding him until they let Slammer loose. Shorty was hesitant to expose his partner to any other dangers the bastards set out for the animals. But he didn’t want to wait one more minute finding the cat. The poachers could be right there. A rescue was mounted, the crew delving deeper into dangers. Chins was found in time and returned to the sanctuary and the girl’s tender hands. The poachers weren’t seen.
The summer was recorded by Jake’s photography, echoing Shorty’s legacy. “We’re in this together,” he said.
The Sierras endured, secrets unfolding.
Renewal’s embers glowed, promising adventures ahead.
(to be continued: Chapter#7 – Shadows in the Snow)
To start from the beginning: DohReyMe&theKitties3-ch1
to read another of my fictions in progress: K9LTW [Chapter1]
Related Links:
Bonus Fiction Feature:
If you read any of the fiction I create here to the end, you will be able to download a free copy when It’s complete. If I get a referral from you, I’ll throw in the fiction – Burtt the Blade.
From Popi’s Tales & The Book of Wonders
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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