When Red told me to start at the beginning, he probably didn’t mean the very beginning. But that was when my problems had really started, so I told him about how I was the biggest puppy my mama had ever had. She told me that of her two litters, I was by far the greatest Great Dane ever. I guess that’s why my brothers and sisters complained so much and why they called me a bully. When they shoved for the best sleeping spot, I shoved back. When they tried to muscle in for Mama’s best milk, I wouldn’t budge. Since I was so big, I always got what I wanted.
“When we played and wrestled and bit each other,” I told Red, “even if I was trying to be gentle, they yapped and squealed because I bit too hard,” With my paw, I brushed my whiskers. The memories made me so sad that even my whiskers drooped. “I didn’t try to be mean. I was just big—it wasn’t really my fault. But . . . well, it always hurt when they called me a bully, so I tried my very best not to hurt them when we played. I guess I should have figured out then that I was just too big to bite, even if it was only play-biting.
“Mama was the only one who really liked me. She used to look real proud when she said how big I was. Whenever I chased the sparrows away from her food bowl, she told me that someday I’d be a great watchdog.”
I looked up at Red.
“That’s what I’ve always wanted to be. As long as I can remember, I wanted to make my mama proud. I wanted to be a great watchdog. That’s what I did last night. I watched.”
Red lay down and rested his chin on his paws so he could look me straight in the eye. “To be a good watchdog, you got to do more than just watch. Now, I understand that your brothers and sisters calling you a bully hurt your feelings, but that doesn’t explain the panic you went into when I asked why you didn’t bite the burglar. There’s got to be more to it than what you’re telling me. The least you could have done is bark at him.”
I covered my eyes with my paws. Red pushed them aside. “Tell me. Maybe talking about it will help.”
The very thought was enough to make me whimper. I forced back the sound and tickled my whiskers with my long tongue.
“My first master was a little boy,” I began. “Well, he wasn’t a little boy, he was a big little boy. We lived in California, and he used to tie a red bandanna around my neck and take me to the beach. I’d run and romp, and when girls would pet me and say how big and nice I was, he’d come up and flirt with them. We had a good thing going.
“Only, like I said, he was a big little boy. I was still a puppy when he went away to this place called college. I missed him. I’d get so lonely I couldn’t stand it. At night I’d cry and howl. The daddy didn’t like that. He yelled at me. He even threw water on me. The neighbors had a cat. Sometimes the cat would come over and climb on our roof. Sometimes cars would park in the alley behind our house. Every time the cat climbed on our roof or the cars parked in the alley, I barked to warn the daddy what was going on. He never understood, though. Each time I barked or howled, he’d yell at me or throw water on me. Even the neighbors yelled at me and threw stuff. They yelled at the daddy, too.”
“People are kind of dumb animals,” Red sighed. “They really can’t communicate too well. So what happened next?”
“So,” I continued, “one day this lady came to the house. I barked to tell the daddy that someone was there. She looked mean and acted funny. I growled at her, and she kicked me. Then she started pounding on the door. When the daddy didn’t come, she started yanking on the doorknob and trying to get in. I was afraid she was going to hurt the daddy. So . . . so . . .”
“So?”
I sniffed. “So I bit her. I nipped her right on her big flabby bottom. I figured it would make her go away. Only she didn’t go away. She started screaming and crying and yelling. The daddy came running out the door. He kept yelling at me and hitting me with a rolled-up magazine. He told me that if I ever bit his mother again, he’d take me straight to the pound.” I looked at Red and swallowed the big knot that lumped up in my throat. “I didn’t know she was his mama. I was just trying to protect him.”
Red gave a little sigh. “It was an honest mistake. It really wasn’t your fault.”
“That’s what I tried to tell him, only—”
“Yeah,” Red knew what I was going to say. “Only he didn’t understand Dog.”
I nodded. “About a week after that, the daddy’s brother came to visit from Oklahoma. He had a little little boy who came out and played with me in the backyard. He was real tiny, so I was careful not to knock him down and stuff. I really liked him, too. Anyway, the daddy told his brother that I needed a boy to play with, and since they lived on a farm in the country, my barking wouldn’t bother the neighbors. He never mentioned that I had bitten his mother. The brother took me to live with them in Oklahoma.”
Red rolled to his side and rested his cheek on the ground. “You bit somebody else when you got to Oklahoma, right?”
My ears twitched. “Well, no. Not really.”
“You barked at stuff or you . . .”
Suddenly Red stopped and stared at the fence on the far side of my yard.
“Who’s that?”
“That’s Poky,” I told him. “He and his master just moved into that new house two days ago.”
“What is he?”
I shrugged. “Don’t know. He won’t talk to me. When I tried to make friends, he growled and told me how big he was and how mean and terrible, and he said if he ever got ahold of me, he’d chew my head off.”
“You ever see him?”
“No. The fence boards on that side are too close together. I can’t see through them at all. But I know he’s big and really mean. He told me so.”
Red snorted. He made that grunting sound when he stood up. I followed him across the yard.
“Hi. My name’s Red. I’m an Irish setter. This is my friend—”
“Get away from my yard!” The smell and the high, sharp growl from the other side of the fence warned us. “Back off or I’ll rip both of you to shreds. I’m big and tough and mean.”
Red’s white eyebrows scrunched low on his red forehead. “You sound and smell like a beagle.”
There was another growl from the far side of the fence. “Yeah, that’s right. But I’m huge. I’m the biggest, meanest beagle you ever saw, and if you mess with me I’ll—”
“Nobody’s gonna mess with you,” Red snorted. “I’m too old to fight, and this pup here is nothin’ but a big pussycat.”
“I’m not a pussycat,” I pouted. “I’m a Great Dane.”
“Some Great Dane,” Red huffed. “You may think you’re a Great Dane. You may think you’re a watchdog, but you act like a pussycat.”
Through the fence, he explained to Poky what had happened with the burglar last night. Poky just growled at him. Red told him that he had dug a hole under my fence so we could be friends and he could help me. Poky only snarled.
Red confided in him that even though he was old, he still got lonely and figured it would be nice to have a friend. “Since I’m out making friends, I figure I might as well make friends with you, too.”
“I don’t want to make friends,” Poky barked. “I’m too big and mean to have friends.”
Red looked at me and winked. “We’ll just see.”
With that, he trotted to the corner where my back fence joined the side where Poky lived. My eyes flashed in terror as he started to dig. I was going to the pound for sure. Not only had I messed up and let the burglar in, but now there was going to be a huge hole in my backyard and I’d get blamed for it.