Prologue: The Way of the Silent Hunter
My mission, as the Great Dane in charge of protecting Big Daddy, involves many techniques. There is the Perimeter Patrol (loud barking at squirrels). There is the Emotional Support Nuzzle (licking Big Daddy’s chin until he laughs). And then there is the most difficult and specialized technique of all: The Low-Profile Hunting Posture.
Loki (The Master of Shadows) is very good at this. He says hunting involves a lot of slow motion and ignoring bugs. I told him that sounds suspiciously like napping, and he only blinked at me. Loki is a liar, but he is a brave liar.
I knew this technique was essential today. We were not going to the Big Box Store (the Chariot of the Gods), but to the River. The River is a place of endless, confusing smells, and the air itself felt heavy, like it was trying to glue my legs to the ground.
The Low-Profile Posture
Big Daddy had brought a folding chair and a lot of gear that smelled like worms and old metal. We sat on the bank, where the ground was cool and damp.
The first clue that Big Daddy was going into a specialized Stealth Operation came when he didn't just sit in the chair; he practically sunk into it, leaning his big, bearded head back and closing his eyes.
He is conserving power, I observed. The Going Offline protocol is being adapted for aquatic targets.
Big Daddy didn't even cast his line immediately. He just sat, letting the river wind blow through his hair. This was Maximum Stillness. The most advanced hunting technique.
I knew I had to participate. As the second most important member of the pack, my stillness had to be equally maximum.
I crouched beside his foot, tucking my paws under my chest.
I am a rock. I am a statue. I am a very small Great Dane statue.
Failure to Launch
My stillness lasted exactly seventeen seconds.
First, there was a fly. It was a tiny, stupid, buzzing thing, but it was a threat, wasn't it? It zipped right past my ear, violating the perimeter of my focused concentration. I twitched an ear. Big Daddy didn't move. Discipline, he was showing me. Ignore the trivial foe.
Then, there was the smell. It was the smell of a chipmunk that had been here three days ago, having an important conversation with another chipmunk about nuts. This was valuable intelligence! I had to follow the trail. I gave my nose a quick, professional wiggle to gather data. Big Daddy remained motionless.
I tried again. Be the river.
I closed my eyes, focusing all my energy on my Great Dane internal thoughts. But then the sun felt too warm, and my tail, which I had anchored to the ground with enormous willpower, decided it needed to thump, just once, against the dirt.
THUMP.
Big Daddy opened one eye and looked down at me. He had to look very slowly, which I knew was because moving too fast would cause his system to Go Offline completely.
“You okay there, Dewey?” he whispered, his voice deep and rumbling.
I immediately snapped my eyes open, stood up, and looked directly into the river with an intensity that screamed, “I have detected the aquatic target! Do you require immediate insertion into the water?”
Big Daddy smiled, a slow, fond smile that barely moved his beard. “Just keep it low, buddy. We’re in stealth mode.”
A success! My antics made him smile. The mission adapted.
The Worm Incident
For the next ten minutes, I mastered the technique of Almost Stillness—sitting still until I was absolutely certain Big Daddy wasn't looking, then doing a quick, silent, 360-degree scan for enemies, before returning to my rock posture.
Big Daddy finally decided to deploy the bait. He reached into a plastic container of earth and pulled out a long, squiggly, pink creature. The Wiggle-Worm.
Now this was a proper enemy! Slimy, suspicious, and full of frantic, uncontrolled movement.
Big Daddy held it on the hook. I watched, my Great Dane instincts fully engaged. The worm was dangling, dangerously exposed, right by my nose. I needed to eliminate it before it infiltrated our hunting operation.
I lunged forward, barking one short, high-pitched YIP—the battle cry of the miniature Great Dane—and tried to snatch the worm right off the hook.
Big Daddy flinched hard, dropping the hook, the worm, and his special bottle of heavily salted water all at once. The worm landed on my head.
Big Daddy didn't laugh this time. He just leaned his head back on the chair with a deep, shaky sigh. The color seemed to drain from his face, and his hand went to his chest. He closed his eyes.
He went offline.
I immediately stopped chewing the worm off my ear. My terror was absolute. I looked at the dark river and the silent trees. My mission failed. I had broken the peace, and now Big Daddy was broken.
I raced to his side, nudging his hand with my head, desperate to reactivate him. I licked his fingers, then his beard. Get up! Get up! The Great Dane needs your command!
Slowly, carefully, Big Daddy reached out and rubbed my back. “It’s okay, buddy. Just gotta… wait for the system to boot back up.” His voice was raspy.
He needed a nap right here, right now. I licked his chin one more time for good measure and settled down immediately beside his ear, providing silent, actual stillness.
My internal Great Dane armor dissolved. I was just a small dog, trembling slightly, listening to the quiet rush of the river, wishing I could be Loki—brave, competent, and actually useful.
Watch our adventures: 🎥 YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@DeweyBigDaddysAdventures ✍️ Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/user/Robertgheard
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