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One Eyed Search, Three-Legged Rescue

One Eyed Search, Three-Legged Rescue

Arrr, Matey! In our last blog, the Sea Dog’s human had just gotten sold as a slave, but the Sea Dog wasn’t going to just leave him to rot away in the filthy shack where he was chained.

Bill’s shipmates had been hot in pursuit of the ship of the dread pirate Gloomsday, and they were just pulling into the harbor as the Sea Dog returned to the port, where there was a joyful greeting all around. “Where’s Cap’n?” the sailors asked Sparky. “Where’s Bill? Lead us to him, fearless friend!”

At that, Sparky started licking his stump where the peg leg was attached.

“Is that getting uncomfortable for you, matey?” one of the sailors asked. “Funny, it never seemed to bother him before. Here, let me take it off of you for a minute. Let’s see... Hmmm, I don’t remember this cork being here. Lookee here, there’s a secret compartment in your leg. Whaddya know about that?” With a shout, the sailor drew out the scrap of paper and summoned the others. “Hey! Bill wrote us a note!”

They all gathered around to read it.


Fists clenched and hands grasped the hilts of swords at hearing these words.

“Why that stinkin’, thievin’, murderous Gloomsday!” the men muttered. “As soon as we get our Cap'n back, the sea is about to be rid of him and his ruffian ways.”

The ship’s first mate found another small scrap of paper, wrote a note, and rolled it up to insert in the Sea Dog’s peg leg, along with a blank sheet for Bill’s use.



Then he carefully attached Sparky’s wooden leg back onto his stump, and the Sea Dog loped away, almost too fast for the men to keep up.

When he disappeared under the gate of Brutus’s compound, the sailors took note and started to scope out the territory for how they would get Bill out of there.

But when the Sea Dog got to Bill’s shack, Bill was not there. The Sea Dog looked around. Where 8686was his master?

He put his nose to the ground and followed the scent of his master across the compound to a back gate. Here, the gate didn’t have bars or gaps that Sparky could wiggle through or under. It was a solid, high, and wide thing, and it was shut fast.

Suddenly, Sparky heard a shout behind him.

“Hey! What’s that lame dalmatian doing in here?” It was Brutus.

Sparky took off running, and the man chased after him all the way to the front gate, where the Sea Dog slid under the bars just in the nick of time.

“Well, you sure can run fast—for a cripple.” Brutus sneered through the gate at him. “Wait a minute...didn’t I see you earlier? With that slave I just bought? What were you doing here by my back gate anyway? Well if that was your master, you’d better just give up on seein’ him. He ain’t here no more. Now scoot. And don’t be prowlin’ around here again.”

Brutus turned on his heel and walked away, disregarding the man just outside the gate, slouching by a tree with his hat over his eyes. It was the ship’s first mate, and he had heard the whole thing.

To Be Continued...

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