Eight

I ran into the kitchen and dashed a quick, frantic circle around Samantha, as if she were a cone in the backyard.

“Oh, Ripley, you’re so funny,” Samantha murmured in a low voice. Tiny sounds were floating out from the small objects in her ears.

Mom was lying in the yard! I needed Samantha to help!

First I needed her to move. She had to move to the window. That was where Mom was. I needed to guide Samantha to Mom.

Something told me just how to do that. I lowered my head to her ankles. She was paying no attention to me and I had to change that in a hurry. I lunged and clicked my teeth at the cloth above her shoe.

Samantha inhaled sharply and jumped back, reaching up to yank the plugs from her ears. “Ripley, what are you doing?” she demanded.

I pushed against her with my shoulder. That didn’t work. I nipped again at her pants.

Samantha gasped. “I don’t understand. Why are you biting me?” She backed away from me. Good. She was headed in exactly the direction I needed her to go.

I darted forward. She started to move sideways. No, not that way. I headed her off, showing my teeth. I could sense a flicker of fear within her, but this was a good fear, a fear that led to action.

I advanced steadily and clicked my teeth again. This time she backed up several steps. “I don’t understand what you’re doing, Ripley,” she said in a worried voice. “What’s wrong with you?”

She stopped moving. We’d been doing so well, getting closer and closer to the window! Why didn’t my girl understand that Mom needed our help?

I barked.

I hadn’t barked much in my life at that point. I didn’t really like the high-pitched yip that I always produced. I wanted my voice to be deep and full of authority. Why this was so important to me, I did not know. I only knew that a puppy-size bark right now would do no good whatsoever—and I was right. When I barked, Samantha’s face softened. “Oh Ripley, you’re so cute!”

I summoned up all my strength. I reached down as deep as I could into my lungs and brought up a full-on big-dog bark.

Samantha was shocked. She retreated from me all the way into the living room. “What are you doing?” she asked, alarmed.

Now was the time. I shot past her, leaped up on the couch, placed my front paws on its back, and stared out the window. Mom had moved and I could see her lying right there. She was crawling, writhing, and I could sense her pain.

I barked and barked, clawing at the glass. I switched my focus, staring urgently over my shoulder at my girl.

“What is it?”

At last, Samantha joined me at the window. When she blurted, “Mom!” I stopped barking. Samantha ran and grabbed a phone and put it to her face.

“Yes, my mom. Something happened. I think she fell off the roof,” Samantha said, her voice stressed and strained with fear. “No, I can’t tell from here. I mean yes, she’s breathing. She’s moving. Samantha Kidd. My mom’s Lizzy Kidd.”

Samantha listened. She closed her eyes. “I really can’t go outside right now. No, there’s no one there, I just … can’t.” She listened some more. “Okay,” she agreed breathlessly. “Please don’t hang up.”

I sat, focused on her, trying to understand what she was feeling. Somehow, this was a different fear from what she usually felt. That fear was all inside her—but this fear had a focus, a sharpness. Samantha was afraid for Mom, I realized.

My girl strode to the front door and opened it. I stayed close by her side. When she pushed herself out onto the porch, she halted abruptly, taking a deep breath, but I didn’t. I scrambled down the steps, around the bushes, and ran to Mom.

“Ripley,” Mom gasped weakly.

“Mom!” Samantha screamed from her position by the open front door. “Are you okay?”

“No. I’m pretty sure I broke something. It hurts,” Mom responded weakly.

“I’ve called nine-one-one,” Samantha yelled.

“Good, good girl.” Mom moaned.

I licked Mom’s face. I knew I’d done a good job of bringing Samantha closer to Mom. Now what else should I do? The deep pain in Mom radiated up one of her legs and etched itself into a grimace in her face.

“I need you to come here,” Mom choked out. “Please, Samantha. I need to talk to you. I can’t yell. It hurts too much.”

I heard and then smelled Samantha as she edged around the shrubbery. Her lips were quivering. She was whispering something to herself. She locked wide eyes with Mom.

I was torn. Mom was in pain, but Samantha was going through pain too, just a different sort of agony. Should I go to my girl?

“Come here,” Mom said.

“Come” meant a treat might be showing up, but I didn’t believe this was the time for that. I watched curiously as Samantha dropped to her hands and knees and crawled to Mom’s side. I licked my girl’s face.

“Oh, Mom,” Samantha sobbed.

“I need to go to the hospital.”

Samantha shook her head wildly.

“No, listen to me. It’s going to be all right. I need you to call Aunt Emily. Okay? Call my sister. Tell her what happened.”

Samantha swallowed and nodded.

“She’s at work. Call her work number. It’s in the phone. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Do you need to go back inside the house?”

“I’ll stay here,” Samantha told Mom.

She was being very brave. I could feel it in her. I licked her face again before she spoke into her phone. “Aunt Emily? It’s me, Samantha. There’s been an accident.”

I lifted my head when I heard a long, howling wail—a familiar noise, I realized. It was coming in our direction and it was loud. I pictured the boxy car where Samantha and I had sat, the first time I’d met her, on the flashing truck with all the people wearing long coats.

I waited patiently because when humans involve machines, there’s nothing a dog can do but observe. We certainly can’t be expected to understand.

I was pleasantly surprised when a big, boxy vehicle with flashing lights pulled into the driveway and Ben hopped out with Roxie. I wagged but remained sitting between the two people who needed me most.

Ben rushed up and knelt by Mom’s side. “What happened, Lizzy?”

“Fell off the stupid roof,” Mom explained between gritted teeth. “Pretty sure I broke my leg.”

“Do you mind if we touch it?”

I looked up and wagged because Roxie was coming up toward us carrying a big box. She knelt down. Ben very gently felt Mom’s jeans and then nodded at Roxie. “Oh, yeah. It’s a fractured fibula, simple, nondisplaced.”

“It hurts,” Mom added.

Ben gazed at Samantha. “We’re going to have to take her to the hospital, Sammie.” He took a deep breath, staring intently into my girl’s eyes. “Do you want to come with us?”

Emotions swept across Samantha’s face. Her eyes were wide open, as was her mouth.

This felt to me as important as Mom’s ongoing pain. I nuzzled Samantha’s hand, wanting to help.

“We can’t leave you here alone,” Roxie explained to Samantha in a quiet, reasoned voice. “So we’d have to call someone.” She glanced up at Ben.

“Social services,” Ben said.

“Right.” Roxie nodded. “And they’d have to take you with them. They couldn’t just babysit.”

Samantha stiffened. “I called my aunt Emily.”

“That’s great,” Ben agreed. “But we can’t wait for her. We need to go. Your mom needs to be seen by a doctor. Sammie? I’ll ride in the back with you. But it’s your choice.”

Samantha turned and reached for me and I climbed into her arms. I felt some of the harsh fright loosen in her. “I’ll ride in the back with Ben and Ripley,” she decided into my fur.

I watched in concern as Ben and Roxie lifted Mom onto a low, flat bed. I blinked when the two of them raised that bed up so that it was as high as Ben’s hips and rolled it on the grass to the back of Roxie’s big, boxy car. They pushed the bed and its legs folded and it was back to being flat again, this time on the floor of the car.

I’d barely become accustomed to all this when Samantha picked me up and Ben helped both of us into the back of the big, boxy vehicle next to Mom’s bed. I’d been in this place before, and I wagged, even though there were no toys or treats that I could smell.

“Are you okay, Mom?” Samantha asked anxiously.

“Yes. Are you okay, honey?”

Samantha nodded quickly, her hands stroking me. I could tell the petting was helping ease her fear.

Roxie was driving—I could see her through a small doorway. I checked on my humans. Mom was still in pain, gripping the rails on her bed, but she was as calm as Ben and Roxie. Samantha’s pain was all inside, but I could feel it loosening. Her expression was grateful when she glanced up at Ben.

“Did you see what happened?” Ben asked my girl.

Samantha’s eyes were lowered. She shook her head. “I was doing the dishes. I had my earbuds in. Mom was cleaning the gutters and she fell.” Samantha swallowed. “I should have been holding the ladder, but I didn’t. It was my fault.”

“No,” Mom groaned. “Samantha, that’s not true at all. I should have moved the ladder, but I thought I could reach.”

“Oofda. Why didn’t you ask me to help with the gutters?” Ben demanded in hurt tones. “Come on, Lizzy. When are you going to regard me as something other than a dog training client?” He shook his head and turned to Samantha. “When we get there, our job ends at the hospital doors. We’ll wheel your mom inside and then the hospital staff takes over.”

Samantha looked around. “Do I need to go inside the hospital?” she asked shakily.

Ben looked at her carefully. “If you don’t look out the back windows, being in here is just like being in a room,” he guessed. “And you’ve been here before, when you first met Ripley.”

She nodded.

“So, no, you don’t have to go inside. You can wait here with the dog. When we’re done, we can give you a ride back to the firehouse or to your home. Your choice.”

Roxie glanced over her shoulder at Ben, surprised at this, but didn’t say anything.

“Well, not the firehouse,” Samantha finally decided in a small voice. “Aunt Emily said she’d leave work right away. She can meet me at home soon.”

“Good, very good.”

There was a long silence. After a while, in a development I certainly did not understand, Ben and Roxie rolled Mom out of the back of that big vehicle and in through some large double doors.

I watched while Samantha held me and a tear dropped from her eye onto my forehead. I licked her. Her Ripley was here. I wanted her to understand that.

Ben and Roxie eventually came back out through those doors and into the sunshine. Ben climbed back in to be with us. The doors shut again.

“It’s bad, but not permanent,” Ben assured Samantha.

“I couldn’t go outside and hold the ladder,” Samantha blurted with a sob.

“I understand. It’s okay.” Ben reached out, hesitated, and then patted Samantha on the shoulder. “Your mom understands too.” It reminded me of Mrs. Middleton’s taps, but there was more affection in Ben’s gesture. Ben just needed to touch Samantha and Samantha just needed to be touched.

When we arrived home, Roxie thumbed something and said, “Five forty is ten-six at the scene.” Then we all got out of the car. “We’re out of service unless there’s a call,” Roxie said to Ben.

We walked to the front door. Ben pushed it open. “Aunt Emily?” Samantha called.

Everyone froze, so I did too, not sure what we were waiting for. Bacon?

“She’s not here,” Samantha murmured.

“Great.” Ben sighed.

Roxie met his eyes. “This could be a problem,” she said worriedly.