Chapter Five: Sally May Rushes to My Rescue
Huh?
They didn’t even notice! I mean, they walked right past me, and Slim even stepped on my tail!
“Get out of the road, pooch.”
I couldn’t believe my . . . how could he . . . I dragged my swollen, suffering body a full eight inches to the north and thus escaped being trampled by my so-called friend.
Loper leaned an elbow on the gate and spoke to his wife. “Well, I guess we’re ready to leave, hon. I know everything will be fine, but if you have any problems, you can catch us at headquarters around dark. I left the phone number.”
“Well,” she stood up, “I hope you boys have a good time, and I hope you’ll be careful with those horses. I worry about you.”
Loper removed his hat and pulled her into a hug. “Bye, sweet. Tell the kids their daddy loves ’em a whole bunch.”
“I will, and they’ll miss . . .” She froze. Suddenly it appeared that her eyes had locked in on ME, in my miserable, wretched condition.
Shall we describe my miserable, wretched condition? My nose was throbbing, my entire face and head had swollen up like an inner tube, and it was hanging very low upon my neck. I was staring out at the world with wooden eyes that had almost swelled shut. And I was drooling.
I couldn’t control the stupid drooling.
At last, someone had noticed, and it was about time.
Sally May let out a gasp. “My stars, look at your dog!”
All eyes turned to me. I whapped my tail and tried to smile, which wasn’t very successful since my face had turned into a balloon. Instead of smiling I drooled a bit more.
Sally May was the first to find her voice. “What on earth has happened to that dog? He looks . . . deformed. And he’s drooling!”
Slim and Loper traded glances. Loper rolled his eyes, shook his head, and turned away. “Geemanee crickets! Of all the times to . . . Hank, you dumbbell!”
Dumbbell! Me? Well, I . . . how . . . what . . .
Slim shifted a toothpick to the other side of his mouth. “I’d say that Hank found himself a rattlesnake, is what I’d guess. Every ranch mutt finds one sooner or later.”
No, it was a bumblebee. Two bumblebees, actually.
Sally May’s eyes went from Slim to Loper to me and back to Slim. “Is it serious? What do people do when their dog gets snakebitten?”
Slim shrugged. “Well, it depends. It makes ’em pretty sick. Usually an old ranch dog’ll get over it on his own. He’ll lay around in the shade for several days, foam at the mouth, and won’t eat, and he’ll get as gant as a coachwhip, but then he’ll get over it.”
“You don’t take them to the vet?”
“Well, some do and some don’t, Sally May. See, a lot of times, you don’t even know the old dog’s been bit. He’ll go off by himself and lay under a tree somewheres and he won’t come back to the house until he’s over it, is what usually happens.”
Sally May’s eyes returned to me. “But that’s not what Hank did. He came to me.”
“Yep. I guess he likes you, Sally May.”
“How could I be so lucky?” She stood there for a moment, shaking her head and moving her lips. “So! You boys are going off to a three-day roundup and your dog picks this very moment to get himself bitten by a rattlesnake.” She turned to Loper. “And what am I supposed to do now? Loper, this is YOUR dog.”
Loper had been deep in thought. Now he spoke. “Hon, I hope you understand that I didn’t plan it this way.”
“I understand that, dearest.”
“We can’t cancel this deal. Jimmy’s planned his whole roundup around us. We’ve got to go, and pretty quick.”
Her eyes widened. “And leave me here with this . . . this drooling dog?”
Boy, that hurt. I couldn’t help it that I was drooling.
Loper nodded. “I’m afraid so. I hate to do it, but when a man gives his word, he has to stand behind it. If we cancelled out over a sick dog . . . we just can’t do that, hon.”
“Fine. I understand that. I agree. But what am supposed to do with your dog? I don’t even like him!”
That one hurt too.
Loper thought it over. “Well, you could just leave him alone and let nature take its course. Just make sure he has plenty of fresh water. Chances are, he’ll get over it.”
Sally May heaved a sigh. “Yes, and for the next three days, I’ll have to look at the poor beast. And if he died, guess who would feel all the guilt and responsibility.”
Loper nodded. “Okay. Maybe you’d better load him up and take him to the vet.”
“Load THAT dog into MY clean car, and haul him to town with MY two children?”
“You can take Slim’s pickup. It already stinks.”
Slim nodded on that. “You bet, that’ll be fine, Sally May. You won’t hurt that old thang. It’s just right for haulin’ dogs.”
“And my children?”
“Oh sure. They won’t hurt it.”
“Slim, I’m not worried about IT. I’m worried about THEM!”
“Oh.”
“The last time I saw the inside of your pickup, I wanted to go get a smallpox booster.”
“Naw, I’ve cleaned it up since then, Sally May. It ain’t bad, really.”
“I’ll bet. I’ve seen your cleaning jobs before, Slim Chance. You shovel out the dead rats and call that clean.”
“Yes ma’am.”
She whirled around and faced Loper. She was wearing a crazy smile on her face. “Well! After ten years of marriage, I can’t believe you’re doing this to me.”
“I know, hon, and I feel bad about it.”
“This,” she shook a finger in his face, “will cost you. I want the floor fixed in the utility room.” Loper nodded. “I want the screen door patched.” He nodded. “I want a new faucet for the kitchen sink.”
“I’m putty in your hands, hon.”
“I want two wheelbarrow-loads of manure spread on my flowerbeds.”
Loper swallowed hard. “That’s a pretty expensive dog.”
“And you’ll tend to those jobs the very day you get back, right?”
“I guess you’ve got us pretty well roped and tied.”
“All right, I’ll take your dog to town.”
He gave her a kiss on the cheek. “You’re sweet, and you win the Pioneer Mother Award.”
“I’ll win the Angry Ranch Wife Award if you don’t keep your end of the deal.”
“It will be done—not joyfully, but it will be done.” Loper turned a glare on me. “Well, I guess we’ve set a market price for you, Hank. You’re worth two loads of manure.”
Yes, well, two loads were better than . . . uh, one.
Loper and Slim said their good-byes, tramped down to the pickup, and drove off, pulling the gooseneck trailer with two saddled horses in the back. Sally May watched them and waved until they drove out of sight. Then she looked down at me.
I, uh, felt very uncomfortable all at once, and found myself looking away from . . . she had a fairly icy expression in her eyes, don’t you see, and . . . well, she and I had this long history of misunderstandings, and now here we were, together and alone, our destinies more or less . . .
“Why couldn’t you have done this yesterday or last week or any day but today?”
I, uh, didn’t have an answer to that, and my nose was throbbing, and I felt rotten.
She looked down at me for a long time. Her eyes began to soften. She came over and knelt down beside me and took my inflated face in her hands. She stroked me on top of the head and rubbed my ears.
“Poor Hank. How can I be mad at you when you look so pitiful? Let me get the children dressed and we’ll go to town—in Slim’s garbage-can pickup. You stay right here.”
Yes, ma’am. I sure didn’t have any better plans.
She went into the house. Moments later, I heard bulldozers and dynamite, an indication that Little Alfred was awake. Somehow, the thought of riding all the way into town with his noise and motion didn’t make me feel better, so I tried to think of a song that would express the misery of my condition. Here’s how it went.
I Was Bitten on the Nose by a Rattlesnake
I was searching for a bunny in a joint of rusted pipe.
I stuck my nose inside it and prepared to take a bite.
I loosened up my jaws, unleashed a deadly growl . . .
But something stung me on the nose and caused me to howl.
At first I thought the cottontail had done this awful thing,
But bunnies do not have the means to cause a painful sting.
So common sense prevailed and soon I came to see
It couldn’t be a bunny but perhaps a bumblebee? No.
I was bitten on the nose by a rattlesnake,
A rattlesnake, a rattlesnake.
I was bitten on the nose by a rattlesnake.
And now I’m swollen up like a poisoned pup.
Now, why would a rattlesnake take refuge in a pipe?
I’ve known these guys forever and they’re really not the type
To be lurking in a junkyard in the middle of the day,
But this one hadn’t read the book on where he’s supposed to stay!
I guess I woke him up in the middle of his nap.
He didn’t even rattle but gave my nose a snap.
There’s a moral to this song, in case you’d like to use it!
Don’t stick your nose into a pipe unless you want to lose it!
I was bitten on the nose by a rattlesnake,
A rattlesnake, a rattlesnake.
I was bitten on the nose by a rattlesnake.
And now I’m swollen up like a poisoned pup.