The Dog Who Could Fly Read Online Free PDF Page A

neglected puppy of today would surely grow up to be the most spirited and dependable of dogs if ever he survived the war.
    As Robert worked his fingers deeper into the animal’s coat, his mind drifted to a memory from childhood. He was ten years old and enchanted by everything the wild countryside of his homeland had to offer him and his gang of friends. One day they had penetrated deeper than normal into the remote mountains and woodlands. They’d come across a cave where, huddled together at the back, they had found three small wolf cubs.
    Terrified by the thought that the mother might return, Robert and his friends had run from the scene as fast as their legs would carry them, fearing they would be savaged at any moment. Through such experiences Robert had learned to fear, love, and respect nature,and he had developed a close affinity with animals of all kinds. The physical resemblance between those wolf cubs and this German shepherd puppy was remarkable, doubtless explaining why the little pup had conjured up fond memories of far more innocent times.
    Robert pictured his mother, whom he had left behind in Czechoslovakia, and wondered if he would ever see her again. His parents had doted on their only son, giving a warm welcome to all his friends in the Czech Air Force. But when the Nazis had rolled into Robert’s homeland in 1938, the family had been torn apart. Relatives had been shot and tortured for daring to resist their Nazi “masters.” Making a break for it alone, Robert had sneaked across the border to Poland, knowing that at any moment he might take a bullet from a German patrol.
    From Poland he had enlisted in the French Foreign Legion with the aim of transferring swiftly to the French Air Force. There had been rough times with the Legion in North Africa, before the Air Force finally accepted him—at which stage he’d achieved what he hungered for most, which was to fight the Boche. But now disaster had struck and if he didn’t make it out of here he was as good as dead, which would mean his battle against the invaders was over.
    Thank God for an abandoned puppy with attitude, Robert told himself. Their companionship lightened his mood and put added steel in his soul. He heard a whimper from the little fellow. He was gazing up at Robert with dewy eyes, pleading for something.
    “What is it this time?” Robert murmured. “What d’you want?”
    He guessed the animal had to be hungry. Groping in his pocket, he found some chocolate and a few cookies. He offered a piece of each and the pup sniffed delicately, but would take neither. Suddenly Robert understood why: the poor wretch had very likely never been weaned. He held a piece of chocolate over a lighted hurricane lantern—one that he’d scavenged among the wreckage of the farmhouse—and rubbed the melt along his forefinger. This time the pup could not resist. After a few cautious sniffs and a tentativelick, he suckled Robert’s finger hungrily until no trace of chocolate remained.
    Robert repeated the process over and over again, and he was filled with affection for his new charge. He felt almost ridiculous entertaining the thought—especially in their present predicament—but in his heart he felt the two of them had a lot in common: they were both bereft of family, they were both fighting to exist, and they were both in deep trouble . . . but neither had given up the struggle.
    “All right, boy, let’s see what you make of something more solid.”
    Robert warmed some more chocolate, but this time he offered the hungry puppy a half-melted piece. The tiny tilted head and the confused gaze revealed the puppy’s puzzlement. He didn’t know what to make of the strange, sweet-smelling solid he was being offered. But finally his pink tongue flicked out and covered it in puppy drool, and seconds later tiny jaws closed over the morsel and it was gone.
    The only problem now was that there was nothing with which to wash down the meal. Robert crossed