CHAPTER 31

Turned out that Buster took to sleeping in the barn as easy as he took to running in the fields. Spring was really here, and he was as excited as me to be outdoors any chance he could get. I tried to keep up with him as he ran through the orchard and zipped between the apple-blossom-filled trees, but his four legs seemed more than twice as fast as my two.

Saturday found him exploring and me busy hoeing the garden, trying my best to only dig up the weeds and not any sprouting vegetables.

At first, Grandma watched to see if I hoed right while she hung up the laundry to dry. When she’d finished hanging the laundry and giving me pointers, she went inside.

As I worked, I spied Ricky walking across the orchard, with Betsy riding piggyback. When Buster ran to greet them, Betsy jumped off to pet him.

She giggled. “Your lamb thinks he’s a dog.”

“Careful, or Mud will be jealous,” I said.

Ricky shook his head. “Nah, Mud can’t think enough to be jealous.”

I laughed, but right then Buster took off running toward the clothesline with the laundry Grandma had just finishing hanging.

“No, Buster! Get,” I scolded, but he must’ve thought I yelled, Run, Buster, run! since that’s what he did—smack into the sheets, knocking one of them off so it wrapped around his head. I thought he’d come to a stop, figuring how he couldn’t see worth a lick, but Buster ran in circles with his head covered in the sheet, making him the funniest-looking four-legged ghost that ever there was.

Then he zigged and zagged between the apple trees, heading toward the outhouse. We ran after him, hollering for him to stop, but those legs of his moved crazy fast, especially for someone just discovering he had legs at all.

Finally, right by that smelly old outhouse, he stopped, with Grandma’s sheet resting on top of him. I grabbed that sheet lickety-split and saw a big dirt stain that Grandma was sure to notice.

“Should we take it back to your grandma to wash again?” Ricky asked.

“I would,” I said, “but I had my heart set on living another day.”

“Can’t be that bad!” Ricky laughed.

But I knew what a chore washing laundry with the wringer machine was. Grandma had to feed the wet clothes through the wringer after pulling them from the boiling water with a broom handle, and I wasn’t gonna be the one to tell her she had to go and do it all over again on account of my lamb.

Instead, I went over to the water pump. With Ricky pumping the water, and Betsy holding up the half that was still clean, I could rub the ends of the sheet together enough to make that dirt spot almost disappear. As soon as it looked pretty near gone, we all carried it over to the line and hung it back up.

“Stay away from the laundry this time, Buster,” I scolded, fixing the last clothespin onto the line.

“He’s not listening,” Betsy said. “He’s eating something over there.”

I followed her pointing finger to see him nibbling clover in front of the henhouse.

And that gave me a great idea.

I ran to the door and opened it wide.

There was someone Buster needed to meet.

“Come on in, Buster!”

And this time, he listened.

He ran to one hen after the other, making them fly off their roosts. Baa! he hollered at ’em as if they weren’t already scattering to the rafters, fearing for their lives, clucking and squawking all the way. Last off her roost, of course, was Teacher, who tried to peck Buster on his nose, but he answered her peck with a bellowing Baa! making her fly away faster than I’d ever seen her move.

I was laughing so hard I almost forgot to get the eggs while I had the chance. “Hurry,” I yelled to Ricky and Betsy. “Grab as many eggs as you can while they’re flying around!”

By the time Buster had lost interest in the hens and they began to settle back in their nesting boxes, I had a basket full of more eggs than I’d ever collected before.

Once we got outside, I put the basket down by the water pump. We were still laughing when I started pumping, letting the water flow, while Ricky, Betsy, and I dipped our hands in it to scoop up a drink, splashing each other. Truth be told, we got more water all over ourselves than in our mouths.

And right then, I couldn’t help but notice how good it felt hearing the sound of laughter ringing out once again on the farm.