The door pushes…open! And oh, now I smell him, now I do! Buddy, Bob is comin’! Buddy, I’m inside off the screen porch!
Down there past the room where they eat their meat, down there in the dark, way at the end, is our old lie.
I get myself up and it hurts just about as much as it can, so I pant and try not to cry and wake the house. But I go, step by hurtin’ step.
Buddy, I’m home!
Except our bed smells dry, not much like us at all. And where you used to keep your boots, Buddy, it smells like just plain floor. And what about your clothes that you always dropped on the floor, where is all that stuff? Your socks, Buddy, that I could put my nose in and chew the toes off ‘cept I’m a bad dog if I do that wonderful fun thing.
Buddy, you ain’t at home and you ain’t been at home for a long time. Your scents are all old. But I’m gonna get on our bed. I’m gonna get up there no matter how hard I hurt, and I’m gonna wait there for you all night. ‘Cause you’re gonna come back to me. My heart tells me this, and I know my heart, for it is true.
That’s fire, fire in my side! Ow, ow! Got my paws up on the bed, though, and now I can smell where we slept. I bury my nose in the dry of it, almost a memory, it’s so old. I can smell you, though, Buddy, your sleepy-smell and your hair smell and your warm skin under the covers smell. I’m gonna sleep now as peaceful as I can, with my nose in what’s left a your smell.
My love, my love, why have you left me? My love, I worshiped you as best I could, so why have you left me? I belong to you, so why have you left me? Ooooooooeeeeeeee! I miss you! OooeeeeeyeeessIdoooo!
“He’s in there, Jack.”
Wham! It’s bright!
“How in the world—”
“Remember, Bob can open that screen. Remember how smart he is.”
“Yeah.” Dad comes over to the bed. “You’re mighty lonesome for him, ain’tcha? Join the club, Bob.”
“Leave him here. Let him stay.”
“Mary—”
Now he does the chook-chook sound, all gobbled back in his throat. It is a sad noise. He is sad. She is sad. We are sad. I do my sad sound: Mmmmooooeeeee eeeee!
“Lord, Lord, that is the damndest beat up ole bag a bones. He’s in mournin’ just like us. You sad, boy?”
Buddy.
Dad sleeps with me where Buddy did, in Buddy’s bed. Dad smells like the horses and the cattle and the truck. He smells like himself, too, and that is also a little like my Buddy. A little.
Lying together like that, me an’ Dad pass the deep of the night, when even the coon and the owl sleep. And then comes the morning wind sneakin’ past the windows and into my nose.
New day a-comin’. Outside, the leaves are whisperin’ and the birds are arguin’ and yellin’ at each other. I hear the scuffle of roaches and mice in the walls, and on the porch Culebra’s sigh of awakening.
She starts cryin’ at the door. I can’t show her how to get in, hard as I try. She don’t get it, but it’s simple, it’s just a thing you gotta move. I saw ‘em do it.
I jump down and go to the kitchen, I smell our food and hear it clankle-clankle into the bowls. Hurt, o’ course, but the sleep did me good.
I eat jus’ like I used to. Feels good, but it don’t make me crazy ‘cause I ain’t that hungry again. Water. Need lotsa water.
Then a man is here, he makes my neck sting and he makes me go yi yi yi ‘cause he hurts my side.
“Take it easy, Bob, attaboy, attaboy.”
“He took two grazing shots. Shallow, but this one on the flank’s gonna take a bit to heal. Plus, he’s got a treated snakebite on this ankle here. The stitches never came out and it’s festering. Lemme—”
Ai! Ai!
“Atta boy, ‘at’s all! ‘At’s all!”
He’s good, I can hear it in his voice, even though he hurts me. I lick his hand, let ‘im know he can hurt me if he wants to. ‘Cause he’s good.
“He’ll pick up real nice, that Tetra gets at those infections. Thisn’s gonna come back fine. What’s he, eight?”
“Seven.”
“Well, he’s got five good workin’ years yet, he don’t get hisself killed by them coys been comin' around.”
“You got any ideas there?"
“They’re a cross between the dog and the coyote, that’s what makes ‘em so smart. You don’t see ‘em getting’ trapped nor poisoned. Shot here and there. But they’re real bright. They know how to use the wind. They’ll come up on cattle from downwind. I mean, this is an animal so bright that it can outwit a tracker hound. You get maybe five shot in a year, in the whole country. Generally mothers protecting pups.”
“I’m gonna put Culebra on my calves tonight.”
“Careful, now. The coy-dog will kill her if he needs to. Or he’ll befriend her, draw her into the pack. I’ve seen many a good dog run with ‘em and turn bad.”
"This'n run with them. That's how he got shot."
"That's not good. This dog has got to make a choice now."
"I know it."
The day gets brighter and the horses are brought out. They go away, Dad and a guy on ‘em. Culebra goes. I want to, but they got me tied up here. I try chewin’ through. No good.
They’re goin’ down to the cattle! I want to!
Hey! Hey!
They keep goin’.
Heyhey! HEYHEYHEY!
Culebra flashes her tail and they’re gone around the bend. Nothin’ to do for me but lie down. It’s warm here. I can always sleep. So I do for a while.
When my eyes go open I think that they been gone a long time. I want offa this chain. I don’t like it, bein’ chained. Buddy used to chain me when I was a bad dog. I ain’t been bad. I want offa this chain.
Hey! Hey! Hey!
Mom brings me water. I’m glad. I wag as hard as I can, to tell her.
“You doin’ a little better, Bob, ole sweetheart?”
I rise up on her chest. I’m gonna lick her face! Oh, I love this!
“No Bob! Down, Bob! Down!”
Heck.
I go down and she goes off, and I sleep.
When I wake up, I am better. I lie all day, sleeping then waking up and listening to the birds fly, and watching their shadows.
It feels like this goes on for a long time, but finally I don't hurt anymore much at all, and then one time when the sun is going down, I hear the truck!
And here they come! Culebra! Hey! Hey! Dad! Heyhey! Here they all come! Hi, horses, hi, oh, hi everybody! I waited and waited and waited!
We goin' workin? Yeahyeah! Yeahyeah!
Right away, Culebra pushed her face in her food bowl. But what about my food bowl? Bob's hungry, too! Bob's hungry, hey, hey!
Oh, here comes Mom, she's got my big bowl and it's full. Yeahyeah! Yeahyeah!
"Not just now."
"He needs to eat, Jack."
Dad is comin.’ But is he gonna let me off the chain, pu-leeze! Oh, his hand’s comin’ down, yeah, it’s touchin’ my neck, yeah! Yeah, yeah, yeah! Yeahyeahyeah! I’m so glad, I was trapped, thank you, Dad, thank you for lettin’ Bob free. Bob wants to run, I gotta gotta gotta!
“Got that front herd moved on into the feedlot. They've got three new calves and I can use ole Bob, if I'm gonna keep those coys off 'em.” He looks down at me. Looks hard. “Hey, boy.”
Me?
“C’mon, Bob.”
Me! Yeah! We’re goin’ out! Oh, boy! Ohh, boy, I’m doin’ somepin’!
“You’re takin’ him out now?” She puts my food bowl down. Yeahyeah. But I'm pulled back. I can't get my food!
“I wanta see what happens when he’s around the calves, if he can go out there hungry and still work."
"That's hard for a dog's taken a calf already."
"I know it."
"What if he fails?"
"I'll be up on the ridge. I'm not gonna lose any calves tonight. No more, I can't afford it."
"I guess it has to be."
"I need another dog, so I just wanta see how he handles himself, fore I give him my trust.”
“The coys come, they're gonna tear him apart.”
"Unless he joins them. Or tries to take a calf before they show up, if they do."
“And if he does?”
“I’ll go ahead and put him down.”
“I hope you do good, Bob.”
“Yeah, It’d break my heart, puttin’ down Buddy’s ole dog, and havin’ to tell him I done that.”
"You tell him everything, anyway, Jack."
"I guess I do."
They go silent. His hand takes Mom’s and she makes a long sound. Then he pets my head. I love that!
“Right, boy? You ready to guard the herd?”
Yeahyeah! Oh, yeahyeah!
We go in the truck with the lights on and everything and we go bangin’ and growlin’ along. Oh yeei mmeeei—that hurts me, those bumps!
But I’m where I love to be, standin’ with my paws on top so the wind blasts in my nose and I smell the whole wide world. I smell everything, the cattle strongest, then the grass and the dirt and armadillos and field mice and the tight, sour smell of scorpions and the wax smell of beetles. I smell people food and hot streets and swimming pool water way way away in town. I smell trees and birds that smell different now that it is dark and they are cool. I smell snakes and fish and water and dry rocks that smell like streets, and I smell kids, boys and girls both. I like boy-smell, like Buddy was.
Heyhey! Heyhey! Here we come, cattle! I smell you strong now, real strong! And I hear you, I hear you breathin’ and your hides goin’ ruggles-ruggles as you rub together.
I smell the meat of the cattle, that makes me blow it right outa my nose, ‘cause I don’t like that! I don’t like that, I don’t wanta think about that! The meat of the calves is sweet, though, oh my, and the way of those creatures is wild.
The truck stops. “Come on, Bob.”
It hurts to jump down, but I do it ‘cause Dad says to. The cattle are all around. And the calves, three of ‘em here.
Dad, I want to stay by you. I want to be real close.
“Sit, Bob!”
I don’t wanta be here alone! Please, Dad!
“Bob, you stay! Now, you stay!”
I sit and I stay. I smell the calves, and they smell soooo good!