56

Justine is not what Ed has expected since hearing her voice on the answering machine. She doesn’t have fangs or two heads. She is a reasonably attractive woman who is bawling her eyes out while smothering Buddy in her arms. It is obvious that she loves the dog. Obvious that this reunion is perfectly sweet to her, and doubly bitter for him. Even though Alice has said he must be returned, Ed knows that losing Buddy is excruciating for her. How will she survive another loss? “Don’t take him. Please.” He is mortified at his need.

“Ed, that’s enough. The dog belongs to her. We love him, but we don’t own him.”

She has the dog in her arms like a baby. He is covering her face with kisses. Behind her, a large man in aviator sunglasses stands at a distance. “I know this is hard, believe me. But Mack belongs with me.”

“You have no idea.” Ed shoves his hands into his pockets. “You have no idea how hard it is.”

“Ed. Stop. This isn’t the same.” Alice wraps her arms around her middle.

“As what?”

“As losing Stacy. He’s a dog. We love him, yes. But we knew this might happen, and we also know that he’s going where he belongs. That he will be safe.”

Ed yanks his fists out of his pocket and presses them into his eyes. “I don’t want to lose you again.”

Alice pulls Ed’s face down to hers. “You have never lost me. I’m right here.” She looks over her shoulder at where Justine and Mitch wait, Buddy still licking Justine’s face. “Come back to our house. I have a few things of his you’ll want.” She lets go of Ed’s face. “Give us time to say good-bye.”

Buddy is wriggling in Justine’s arms and she puts the dog down on the ground but doesn’t take the leash. He hits the ground running, barking his sharp little bark, and begins to run around all four of them.

*   *   *

Buddy/Mack wriggles in the ecstatic dance of a happy dog. His Justine did find him, just where he always thought she would. He is very pleased that Alice and Ed thoughtfully hung around today to wait with him for Justine.

But there is something wrong here. Alice and Ed are exuding that grief smell, the aura that never quite goes away but has been neutralized with rides together in the car and holding hands. This scent is fresh and heavier, easily tracked should they disappear.

Mack recognizes that Justine is tense, partly excitement, partly nerves, like a dog that’s going for a ride but doesn’t know where to. Her posture and Alice’s suggest that these females are contending over something.

The people need to be closer together. Justine is standing outside the herd of two that Alice and Ed make up. The man at the distance, who is a stranger, although his scent, even from this space, betokens friend, is also too far away. This arrangement bothers Buddy/Mack, this distance between the people who should be in the same herd because he is responsible for them all.

Buddy/Mack does what good herd dogs do: He begins to eye Justine, fixing his gaze on her until she does what he wants, and she moves a little closer to Ed and Alice. He eyes them. Stay put, sheep. He looks back at the stranger and decides that he’ll need moving, too. He dashes away from his herd and nips at the man’s leg, finding a surprisingly unfleshlike ankle. Still, it works and the man steps forward. A few more nips and he’s beside Justine, touching her. Buddy/Mack eyes this for a moment, then judges it a good thing. Then he takes the next step. He begins to circle the herd of four, racing around them, around the headstone, around and around until he is satisfied that he has brought the herd of humans he cares for home.