"I'm hungry."

That was Mikey, of course. He was always hungry that winter. It was understandable - after all, food was scarce. Still, the constant complaints did no one any good. Especially me.

"Ok. Fine. You're hungry. What the heck do you expect me to do about it?"

He looked at me with those big brown eyes. I melted. I always do.

"You want food? Let's go." He stared at me in silence but made no move. "I said let's go!"

A half-minute of hustling and bustling later, Mikey was ready to go, leash in mouth. He bounded through the special flapping door I built for him and plowed through the two-foot snow outside. I followed at a more sedate pace, making sure to lock the door behind me, then followed through the trail Mikey had provided for me, dragging a sled behind me.

It was a flat landscape, unmarred from pure whiteness, except for the occasional bare tree. It was cold. It was wet. Even following the plowed trail I still managed to soak my lower legs to the skin. I don't like snow. Or cold. I was not happy.

Mikey, though, he was in his natural element. It never failed. Seeing him frolic with utter happiness in the snowy field brought the biggest darn smile to my face. It almost made it worth putting up with the cold.

He ran and jumped and buried his nose in the white powder. All the while holding that silly leash between his teeth. I never understood why he carried the thing. I never held it, and don't know if I could have restrained him with it in any case. Buy Mikey always insisted. The proprieties must be observed, I guess.

Outdoors at least after most of a winter cooped up, Mikey had forgotten the purpose of our little excursion. I called his name a few times until he deigned to give me his attention, then pointed in a generally north direction.

"Food is that way, Mike."

We traveled for half a day in the direction I had pointed. Mikey eventually calmed down and came to walk just in front of me, continuing to break trail. We didn't talk much, but there was no need. We simply enjoyed each other's company. But as I gazed on this foreign landscape, so different than my homeland, I couldn't help but feel homesick.

No help for it though. I was marooned. I had no way to contact my loved ones, or even my boss, and it seemed unlikely I would ever be rescued. Worse, I was alone here, with no one but Mikey and some scattered native wildlife to keep me company.

That afternoon we reached our goal. One species of animal kept a den of sorts in the area. For

• 1
• 2
• next page >>

---

Add your voice

Know something about Short stories: The snoring bear?
We want to hear your view. Write now!