That same morning, Meg woke just before dawn.
She dressed fast, brushed her teeth, threw water on her face, and dried off. She hadn’t slept well, worrying Banjo might just give up on living.
She ran outside.
Banjo wasn’t in the barn.
She found him sitting in the pasture looking at the horses, his back to her.
The horses were bunched in the far corner, their heads turned toward him, not paying him much mind.
He hadn’t given up, he’d moved!
“Thank you,” Meg whispered.
She picked her way out into the dewy pasture. “Banjo,” she said softly.
Banjo turned to look back. He woofed. One heavenly dog word that stopped Meg. It was the first sound he’d made since she’d found him.
She knelt in the wet grass, hoping he’d come to her.
But he sank down and put his head between his paws.
Meg stood and walked over to him. “You don’t have a whole lot to say to people, do you?”
Banjo raised his head.
“You hungry, buddy? Thirsty?”
He woofed again.
Meg grinned. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.”
The house was quiet, but Meg could hear the shower running.
Wouldn’t a hungry dog eat just about anything? She grabbed a large can of pork and beans and emptied it into an aluminum mixing bowl. Jeremy would kill her if he saw her feeding Banjo from his favorite popcorn bowl. Too bad.
Banjo stood when she put the bowl in front of him. Meg watched as he wiped the bowl clean, pushing it around in the grass with his nose until Meg finally took it away. She hoped feeding him beans wasn’t a mistake. Too late for that!
She took the bowl to the water trough, rinsed it, and filled it halfway.
Banjo lapped up every drop.
“Good boy,” Meg said. “Good, good, good.”
She filled it again.
At nine-thirty, Meg and Mom urged Banjo into the Jeep. He circled around on the back seat and settled.
“He’s done this before,” Mom said.
As they drove, Meg said, “This morning he was out watching the horses. I think he was a ranch dog.”
“That would be a good bet.”
“So why would someone dump a good ranch dog?”
“Maybe he ran off.”
“Seriously, Mom.”
“Okay. Not likely.”
“But what if it’s true that he was abandoned? And what if no one claims him?”
Mom reached over and took Meg’s hand. “Then we’ll find him a home.”
“Or maybe…keep him?”
“Why’d I know you’d ask that?”