Bailey's Story by W. Bruce Cameron Page B

the pond with the effort. I had to reach Ethan!
    When I got to the trail of bubbles, I followed the scent. It was much harder to get myself down this time because I hadn’t dived out of the boat, so I was slower to reach the boy. As I was headed toward the bottom of the pond, I glimpsed him beneath me, coming up. I switched directions. Our heads broke free of the water and out into the air at the same time.
    â€œBailey!” Ethan called in delight. He tossed his rod into the boat. “You are such a good dog, Bailey!”
    I swam beside him as he pulled the boat over to the sand. He was all right! The water hadn’t taken my boy away from me! I was so relieved that I danced and licked Ethan’s face as he bent to pull the boat out of the pond.
    â€œYou really tried to save me, boy.” I followed him onto the sand and shook myself again. Then I sat, panting, as Ethan left the boat on the sand and settled down beside me to stroke my face. His touch was as warming as the sun.
    The next day, the boy brought Grandpa down to the dock. I raced ahead of them to be sure the duck family was out of the water. The boy was wearing another shirt with a hood, this one light gray, and he paused next to Grandpa on the dock. I sat down, too. All three of us looked into the green water.
    â€œYou watch. He’ll dive underwater, I promise,” the boy said.
    â€œI’ll believe it when I see it,” Grandpa replied.
    Grandpa grabbed my collar. “Go!” he shouted to Ethan.
    The boy took off running. I strained to follow, and Grandpa let me go. Ethan sailed off the end of the dock with a huge splash. I skidded to a stop and barked, looking back at Grandpa.
    â€œGo get him, Bailey!” Grandpa said.
    I looked down at the frothy water where the boy had gone in. Then I looked at Grandpa again. He was old and moved pretty slowly, but I couldn’t believe he was so daft that he wasn’t going to do anything about this! The boy needed help! Again! Why was Grandpa just standing there?
    I barked some more.
    â€œGo on!” Grandpa urged me.
    Did I have to do everything in this family? With one more bark, I dove off the end of the dock, swimming down toward the bottom, where I could just see Ethan’s light shirt. I gripped his collar in my jaws and headed for air.
    â€œSee! He saved me!” the boy called when our heads broke the surface.
    â€œGood boy, Bailey!” Grandpa and Ethan shouted together.
    I was so happy with the praise and so relieved that Ethan was okay that I decided to take off after the ducks. They’d thought it was safe to get back in the water. I’d show them! I got so close to snapping off a few tail feathers that they flapped their wings and quacked. That meant I’d won.
    We spent the rest of the afternoon playing Rescue Me. After a few more times, I got less worried, since Ethan always came back up. Still, he was so happy every time I hauled him to the surface that I did it again and again.
    I couldn’t see any reason why we’d ever leave the farm, but when Dad arrived a few days later and Mom started walking from room to room, opening drawers and pulling things out, I had a feeling that we were going to be moving once again.
    I stuck close to Ethan in case he had any ideas of leaving me behind. He laughed at me, and finally he yelled, “Car ride!”
    I dashed outside and jumped in the backseat, hanging my head out the window. The horse, Flare, stared over the fence, probably jealous because I could fit inside the car and she couldn’t. Grandma and Grandpa hugged Ethan and me before we drove away.
    The car took us back to our first house. I missed the farm, but it was good to smell the familiar smells once more and to meet the other kids and dogs in the neighborhood again. We played games and I chased balls and wrestled with my friend Marshmallow. It was wonderful.
    What happened the next day was not so wonderful.
    Everybody got up early,