Thunder rumbled in the distance as a last of the storm pelted rain down on the roof of

my apartment. My dog, Ducks, an incredibly dopey but lovable German shepherd was desperate

to go outside to attend to his business. He had been afraid of the thunder and didn't

might get him wet, so coaxing him out of his hiding spot in the closet took several

treats and the gentle promise of a nice walk in the cool dark night. Near the look that

said, he didn't quite believe the storm was done. He came out of the closet and let

me put the leash on him. A moment later, we walked down the apartment steps and headed towards

the woods where Ducks loved to walk. As Ducks sniffed at everything in sight, I stared

down into my phone, checking Twitter for the latest nonsense and controversy. I wasn't

paying much attention to Ducks as he typically led to where he wanted to go. I had occasionally

lock up to get a handle and where we were. However, this time it was this low, the

turtle growl coming from him, which got my attention. Hearing him growl while playing

around with a tennis ball, I knew the difference between his playful in the moment growl, and

this one certainly wasn't it. This one came from the primal, undemestigated DNA of the

wolf still deep in his jeans. Before I could say a word, Ducks took off running into

the woods. The sudden pull knocked my phone out of my hand and I had no choice but to

allow him to drag me where he wanted, even as I protested in the old. Ducks was undoubtedly

onto a scent and he wasn't going to let it go until he found what he was looking for.

As he pulled me deeper into the wet and cold woods, I tried to assert myself as the dominant

one, but Ducks didn't care. He was like trying to hold back a force of nature like the storm

which had only just passed. Ducks paused for a moment the body's head on the ground and

then was off again. His tail went stiff and stood straight in the air. He led me to the

...