But suffering, that’s another story. She left Harvey the name of her vet in case.”
“My mom said that dogs are our best friends.”
“You got it.”
Flea factory. And let’s not forget the shit I stepped in when he took a dump too close to the house. And that had gotten more and more often. Lazy bastard.
I biffed Mr. Chile into the toybox.
CHAPTER TEN
T ime to go. Gladys, check. Car, check. Money, check. Shelley was picking me up at noon.
The money was all in those nice American hundreds plus some traveling Canadian cash. Fast as a bug, we’d disappear into red-rock country. As for Gladys, when she didn’t return in the spring, what the hell could anyone do? People went missing all the time in the US. Even in Canada. Even with their cars. And there was no way anyone was heading anywhere near Kinsol Mountain. Not until 2190 when they built a Walmart.
That morning the thaw arrived. Ten degrees above freezing was sending the early snow packing. The eaves were dripping with icicles. I was having a last coffee on the porch, enjoying the warm wind, when Harvey came along. I’d forgotten to tell him about Bucky’s wanderings. Luck was being a lady to me.
He rolled up the drive in his Jeep, skewing in the slush.
“Crazy weather, or what?” he said, taking off a tweedy wool hat as he got out. “Not that I’m complaining.”
“Come on up to the porch. Coffee’s hot.”
Giving me a friendly grin, he took a rocker. I brought out the coffee and gave him the mug. He cradled it in his hands and sipped.
“Haven’t seen a thaw this early since 1975. It’s pneumonia weather,” he said.
“Damn straight. I think I’m getting a cold.” I cleared my throat for effect.
“How’s Gladys doing?” he asked. “She get there yet?”
My heart thumped a beat.
“She called the other day. Her arthritis is a lot better down in Southern California.”
“That’s what she always says. Too bad she can’t live there. No health care though. So what are your plans?” he asked, looking around. “See you got the shutters locked and the place all secured.”
“I’m going today when my…ride comes. But I might be back in the spring.” Leaving a door open was a good idea to take the heat off me. “She said to tell you to keep the drive free.” I reached for my wallet and peeled off two hundred dollars.
With a grin, he pocketed the money.
“Hey, I ain’t seen old Buck come around in a while,” he said, sipping the coffee. Harvey kept steak bones for him.
I raised an eyebrow.
“I’m worried too. Seems he went off…a few days ago. I was thinking a coyote or wolf got him. Easy pickings. I’ve seen their tracks in the snow. Keep an eye out. Gladys will settle up for his care. And you know the vet she uses.” Only one in town.
Harvey nodded, and I was congratulating myself on the story. Had I covered all the bases or what? Ten days tops, and Nufflo would be nuzzling one cheek and Shelley the other.
“Poor schnook,” he said, rubbing his knee. “He was a heck of a dog when he was young though. George hunted him from the time he was a pup.”
I folded my arms and chuckled.
“Come on, now. That dog won’t hunt.”
“You didn’t know him when. Nose like a bloodhound. What a birder. George never went out but he came back loaded. Ducks in the fall, grouse and partridge all winter.”
Both our mugs were empty. I should offer a refill, but I wanted him on his way. Instead of joining into the conversation, I just ummed a bit.
“Hey, isn’t that Buck?” Harvey asked as a honey-colored form appeared from back of the shed. “Holy jumpin’. Didn’t I tell you? What’s that in his mouth? Get you a bunny, Mr. Buck?”
We both stood as the dog limped slowly forward. Its fur was matted and tufted. One ear was half torn off. Blood streamed from his nose.
“He’s in a bad way. Come, boy.” Harvey got up and extended a hand.
At the bottom of the porch, Bucky stopped and dropped the five-fingered
“My mom said that dogs are our best friends.”
“You got it.”
Flea factory. And let’s not forget the shit I stepped in when he took a dump too close to the house. And that had gotten more and more often. Lazy bastard.
I biffed Mr. Chile into the toybox.
CHAPTER TEN
T ime to go. Gladys, check. Car, check. Money, check. Shelley was picking me up at noon.
The money was all in those nice American hundreds plus some traveling Canadian cash. Fast as a bug, we’d disappear into red-rock country. As for Gladys, when she didn’t return in the spring, what the hell could anyone do? People went missing all the time in the US. Even in Canada. Even with their cars. And there was no way anyone was heading anywhere near Kinsol Mountain. Not until 2190 when they built a Walmart.
That morning the thaw arrived. Ten degrees above freezing was sending the early snow packing. The eaves were dripping with icicles. I was having a last coffee on the porch, enjoying the warm wind, when Harvey came along. I’d forgotten to tell him about Bucky’s wanderings. Luck was being a lady to me.
He rolled up the drive in his Jeep, skewing in the slush.
“Crazy weather, or what?” he said, taking off a tweedy wool hat as he got out. “Not that I’m complaining.”
“Come on up to the porch. Coffee’s hot.”
Giving me a friendly grin, he took a rocker. I brought out the coffee and gave him the mug. He cradled it in his hands and sipped.
“Haven’t seen a thaw this early since 1975. It’s pneumonia weather,” he said.
“Damn straight. I think I’m getting a cold.” I cleared my throat for effect.
“How’s Gladys doing?” he asked. “She get there yet?”
My heart thumped a beat.
“She called the other day. Her arthritis is a lot better down in Southern California.”
“That’s what she always says. Too bad she can’t live there. No health care though. So what are your plans?” he asked, looking around. “See you got the shutters locked and the place all secured.”
“I’m going today when my…ride comes. But I might be back in the spring.” Leaving a door open was a good idea to take the heat off me. “She said to tell you to keep the drive free.” I reached for my wallet and peeled off two hundred dollars.
With a grin, he pocketed the money.
“Hey, I ain’t seen old Buck come around in a while,” he said, sipping the coffee. Harvey kept steak bones for him.
I raised an eyebrow.
“I’m worried too. Seems he went off…a few days ago. I was thinking a coyote or wolf got him. Easy pickings. I’ve seen their tracks in the snow. Keep an eye out. Gladys will settle up for his care. And you know the vet she uses.” Only one in town.
Harvey nodded, and I was congratulating myself on the story. Had I covered all the bases or what? Ten days tops, and Nufflo would be nuzzling one cheek and Shelley the other.
“Poor schnook,” he said, rubbing his knee. “He was a heck of a dog when he was young though. George hunted him from the time he was a pup.”
I folded my arms and chuckled.
“Come on, now. That dog won’t hunt.”
“You didn’t know him when. Nose like a bloodhound. What a birder. George never went out but he came back loaded. Ducks in the fall, grouse and partridge all winter.”
Both our mugs were empty. I should offer a refill, but I wanted him on his way. Instead of joining into the conversation, I just ummed a bit.
“Hey, isn’t that Buck?” Harvey asked as a honey-colored form appeared from back of the shed. “Holy jumpin’. Didn’t I tell you? What’s that in his mouth? Get you a bunny, Mr. Buck?”
We both stood as the dog limped slowly forward. Its fur was matted and tufted. One ear was half torn off. Blood streamed from his nose.
“He’s in a bad way. Come, boy.” Harvey got up and extended a hand.
At the bottom of the porch, Bucky stopped and dropped the five-fingered
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