Chương 43: Chapter 38: New & Improved Stretch

I pedaled out of town for an hour before I spotted a trail branching off the main road. It didn't lead to a homestead or a farm, but seemed solid enough for my bike. Stretch slept the whole way, curled up in the trailer, his soft snores mingling with the clicks of the bike chain and the occasional chirp of birds. A few minutes down the trail, we came to a stream. I shook Stretch, but he wouldn't budge. He just growled in his sleep and kept right on snoring. Diagnose showed nothing. No distress or changes.

He was perfectly healthy. Stretch Adult Bushland Dog Progress to awakening: 99% I gave up, hoisted him into a fireman carry, and crossed the stream. The cold water seeped into my boots, sending a shiver up my spine.

"When you wake up, buddy, you'll owe me for the wet boots." He didn't even stir. For over an hour I carried him on my shoulder, silently thanking God for my elevated Strength stat. Finally, I reached a clearing in the forest. It was large and far from any paths, so I opened the big glamping tent, not knowing how long it would take, and we might need the space. After half an hour of wrestling with the tent, it was finally ready.

I spread out Stretch's blankets, cast Clean on him to remove all the leaves and dirt from his fur, and put him on his bed. He continued sleeping, dead to the world. Still 99%. After waiting three hours for something to happen, I started a fire to pass the time. We depleted our supply of cooked food over the last three weeks, so it was time to replenish. I organized and cleaned all the takeout boxes, cleaned all the pots, and arranged all the necessary cooking tools. Still nothing—he slept like a baby, stuck at 99%.

"Stop driving yourself crazy and cook," I told myself, trying to shake off the anxiety. I took out a cooler with the mukar/bison meat, vegetables, oil, and spices, arranged everything on the prep table, rearranged some items to a better location, and re-stored the cooler to keep the meat fresh. Just in case, I re-checked that all the boxes, pots, and utensils were still clean. Still, nothing happened; he was sleeping like a baby and still at 99%.

"Stop that; you're like a mother hen," I scolded myself. I began cooking and tried to focus only on cooking. The sizzling meat and aroma of spices filled the air, offering a minor distraction. It wasn't easy, but with three pots going and constant checks to keep them from toppling into the fire or sticking to the bottom, I managed to forget my worries for ten minutes. The three pots were ready. I moved everything into containers, cleaned the pots, and checked again. Still sleeping. Diagnose —all is well.

Identify—99%. I still had containers and needed something challenging that would demand all of my attention, so I began making a campfire lasagna. It took me a while to grate the tomatoes with a manual grater, and my hands became sticky with juice. I miss my Magimix. The tomato sauce also took a while to simmer, filling the campsite with its rich aroma. It was getting dark, and the forest's night sounds began to creep in. Still no change.

I fried the meat with the onions; the sizzling created a comforting background noise. I added the other vegetables and cooked the pasta sheets in water. Still no change. I took a metal pan and layered the pasta, meat, sauce, and cheese in two layers of each. Now, I had a puzzle. How do I bake it? I got an idea: I placed the baking pan inside a larger one, covered it with a smaller one that fit snugly, and then put another larger pan on top.

Just in case, I wrapped the whole thing with wire so that nothing would move. I moved the coals and burning wood aside to create a cradle for the lasagna and covered it on top and from all sides with coals. Hmm, how do I measure 40 minutes? I approximated it. That's what I was doing anyway. Still no change. I played my guitar while waiting for the lasagna; the notes mingled with the night sounds. After a while, I could smell it, and it smelled delicious. I waited another five minutes just in case.

Now, how do I remove it from the fire? After a few minutes of deliberation, I moved all the coals aside in a wide circle, grabbed the lip of the pan with tongs, and dragged it out. The heat radiated from the pan, warming my face. I put on the work gloves I used to remove pots from the fire, unwrapped the wire, and opened the pans. It looked delicious and smelled even better. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. I should put the recipe in the Archive.

Stretch lifted his head and sniffed the air with interest.

"Yes!" I exclaimed. I identified him—still 99% He got up and showed great interest in the lasagna. I shoved his head aside.

"Wait, buddy, it's hot. You'll burn your tongue. Let me cool it for you." I grabbed a piece of cardboard and fanned the pan to cool it. After five minutes, it had cooled a little. I cut a piece for myself, stored it, and moved the rest to a bigger pan for him. It was still hot, so I cooled it further with the cardboard until it felt cool enough, and then I gave it to him. It was gone in less than a minute. He pushed the pan toward me.

"More food?" He nodded his head! Twice!! I gave him more food, but had trouble keeping up with the demand. He inhaled the food and demanded more. He ate for over an hour straight and finished his average weekly food intake in record time. Then he licked my face and went back to sleep. Stretch Adult Bushland Dog Progress to awakening: 99% I sighed and took out my lasagna piece. It was a winner. It was the middle of the night, so I fell asleep. If he needed me, he would wake me up with the tongue alarm.

When I woke up, the sun was high in the sky. The tent was warm, and morning light was streaming in. Stretch still slept. Stretch Adult Bushland Dog Progress to awakening: 99% After two cups of coffee, I was at a loss for what to do. Tried reading a book, but the words blurred together. Tried playing the guitar, but my fingers felt clumsy on the strings. Rearranged some things in my storage and filled some empty boxes. It took too little time. Removed some of the damaged weapons and began restoring them.

The amount of mana needed for the restoration varied. Some required 100-200 mana, and some needed 500 or more. I spent 2, 000 mana, ate a late lunch, and regenerated to full. Still no change. I ate dinner and fell asleep. In the morning after coffee, I checked on Stretch. Stretch Adult Bushland Dog Progress to awakening: 99% I threw up my hands.

"Come on! Seriously?" After breakfast, I spent 4, 000 mana restoring weapons, with breaks to regenerate some of the mana. That spell was pretty cool. Later, I ate dinner and sank into a camping lounge chair to regenerate. The sun was setting, and a nice cool breeze drifted by. It was not too cold for a change. I woke again with the sun high in the sky, still in the lounge chair. Stretch Adult Bushland Dog Progress to awakening: 99% After coffee and breakfast, I arranged some more things in my Storage.

Suddenly, the mana in the air stirred, swirling like a vortex. I walked over to Stretch, touched him, closed my eyes, and concentrated on sensing the mana around and inside him. Something was happening, but it was unclear what. His body had a lot of mana action going on, but I couldn't discern what was happening. So, I just sat there with my eyes closed, sensing and following the motion of the mana. Some unknown time later, the mana action subsided, and I opened my eyes. It was dark.

Wow, I was so absorbed that I didn't realize I had sat there all day. I was also starving. Stretch Adult Bushland Dog Progress to awakening: 100% Yes! But he was still sleeping. I ate dinner, put my sleeping bag beside him, hugged him, and fell asleep. The tongue alarm woke me up. When I opened my eyes, a big dog's head was in front of me.

"Wow, Stretch, you got bigger!" I stood up and checked. He had grown about 4 inches taller; his body filled out, and his fur shifted to a more uniform silver-gray. His eyes had been brown before, but now they were ice blue, like a husky's but larger. I could also sense that he had mana; he exuded it. I patted him and scratched his ears.

"Welcome back, buddy. You slept for over four days." Suddenly, he bit my arm, drew blood, and licked it.

"Oww, what are you doing? I thought we were friends. I didn't expect…" I trailed off as I felt something connect in my mind, then an apology, followed by a powerful wave of adoration and gratitude.

"Oh my god, Stretch, was that you?" He nodded, and I received a mental confirmation as well.

"You're amazing!" I hugged him, petted him, and scratched his ears.

"Why did you bite me?" I got a mental taste of blood, coppery and salty, and a feeling of connection. I never knew you could taste something in your mind.

"You needed my blood to connect?" He nodded and agreed mentally.

"You're the most amazing dog in all the worlds that exist." I got a feeling of smugness. Then I got a taste of beer and happiness.

"You're asking for a beer to celebrate?" He nodded vigorously, and I got the most vigorous agreement so far. I laughed, "You're ridiculous!" He wagged his tail, sending happiness and love.

"Yeah, I love you too, but let me get coffee first. I can't drink beer first thing in the morning." I got a strong disagreement.

"You can disagree as much as you like. I still need coffee first. And then we will celebrate with a beer." He nodded and agreed.

"You're not hungry?" He shook his head no, and I felt a sense of negativity.

"You don't need to nod or shake your head; the feeling I get from you is enough. Also, some people might react badly." He agreed with me without nodding. Smart awakened dog. After coffee, we shared a beer, and Stretch was ecstatic. I got from him how much he loved beer.