Brenda felt bad the next day about overreacting over Jake killing the squirrel. He was just responding to instinct, after all. It wasn’t his fault. As soon as they had gotten home, she had put Jake in his kennel and had left him there the rest of the day, other than to take him outside and to feed him. It wasn’t his fault, and she shouldn’t have treated him like he was a bad dog.
She let Jake out of his kennel in the morning and let him out to the back yard. When he was done his business, she fed him.
“You’re a good dog, aren’t you Jake?” she murmured.
He eyed her and growled lowly.
“Hey, what’s that about? I’m not going to take your food,” she protested.
He looked back down at his food and ignored her. Brenda let him eat in peace, deciding it was best not to push her luck.
She heard Bubba and Cassy squealing upstairs. One of them had obviously woken and gotten the other one up. She glanced at the clock. How long did she have before they were downstairs? Brenda got out the cereal and milk and put bowls on the table, setting them down just as the children ran down the stairs squealing at each other.
“Mama! Mama, Bubba…” Cassy was wailing.
“Oh, shush, come sit down and have some breakfast. No tattling this early in the morning.”
“But Mama—”
“Shush, Cassy. Sit.”
“I didn’t do anything,” Bubba objected.
“You too. Sit.”
Bubba scampered across the floor toward Jake, who was still eating.
“Bubba, leave Jake—”
Before she could finish the warning, Jake whirled around with a snarl and snapped at Bubba. Shocked, Bubba froze and stared at Jake. Brenda ran across the kitchen and grabbed him, picking him up and spinning him away from the dog.
“Bubba! I told you not to get close to Jake while he’s eating! Dogs don’t like it when you get too close to their food. They think they have to guard it.”
Bubba’s face crinkled up, and he started to blubber.
“Mama! Mama, he tried to bite me!” he shrieked, between hysterical sobs.
“It’s okay. He wouldn’t really bite you. He was just warning you. You’re okay.”
Bubba cried, burying his face in her shoulder. Cassy, sitting at the table, started to cry in sympathy.
“Mama…”
“Shhh,” Brenda comforted. “Come on guys; it’s okay. You’re both fine. Bubba’s fine, Cassy. He didn’t get hurt.”
They both continued to cry. Brenda took Bubba into the living room, motioning for Cassy to follow her.
“Come on. Come sit down and calm down.”
She cuddled them both on the couch until they started to settle down.
“Now you wait here for a minute and let me get Jake. You’ll see everything is okay. You just have to be more careful about going up to him while he’s eating. Okay?”
“Don’t bring him in here!” Bubba insisted, starting to cry all over again.
“Stop being silly. Wait here. You don’t have to pat him if you don’t want to.”
Brenda went back to the kitchen. Jake had finished eating and was standing by the glass doors looking out into the yard.
“Come, Jake,” Brenda called.
He came over immediately. Brenda took him out to the living room where both kids sat on the couch. Bubba lifted his feet up, howling. Brenda shook her head.
“Jake’s not going to hurt you,” she told him.
She sat down on the floor and patted the floor for Jake to lie down. He lay down and turned over to show his belly for her to scratch. She scratched his belly and his ears. After a few minutes, the children started to calm down. Brenda kept patting Jake and giving him attention. Eventually, Bubba jumped down from the couch.
“Can I pat him?” he asked.
“Of course. Come on over.”
He came over, and Brenda pulled him into her lap, and helped him hold his hand out to Jake, and then to pat Jake gently.
“See? Jakey’s fine. You just scared him. He won’t hurt you.”
Sniffling, Bubba nodded. “It’s okay,” he agreed.
Chapter Five
BARRY WATCHED THE TWO cocker spaniels race wildly around the yard playing with each other. They acted like puppies instead of grown dogs. He smiled, smoking his pipe, and sat down in his rocking chair for some fresh air. He closed his eyes as the sun shone on his face, and without realizing it, he drifted off to sleep.
Sharon woke him when she got back from the grocery store.
“Barry! Barry, wake up!”
Barry startled, snorted, and sat up straight. He looked around. The light in the yard was growing dim. The dogs were no longer chasing each other around, but were lying companionably side by side on the porch beside him, quiet and calm.
“Hi honey,” he said, pushing himself up to his feet.
Sharon bent over and picked up his pipe.
“You want to set the house on fire? Falling asleep while smoking your pipe?”
“I put it out before I took my nap,” Barry lied, taking it back from her. “And nobody ever burned down a house with a pipe. Only with cigars and cigarettes.
“You shouldn’t even be smoking. You know what the doctor said.”
Barry shrugged. “I know the doctor doesn’t want me to have any fun. No smoking, no drinking, no sugar, no steak. He takes all the fun out of living to an old age. Who wants to live like that?”
“With your diabetes—”
“I know, I know. I wasn’t worried about it before I got diabetes, and I’m not worried about it now. When the Lord calls me, I’ll go. But it’s not my time.”
“That doesn’t mean you have to go trying risky behaviors,” she scolded.
“I’m not skydiving, darling. I had my fill of risky behaviors when I was a youngster. Now I’m just sitting in my rocker watching my dogs. Nothing risky.”
“Except you’re trying to burn down the house with your pipe.”
Barry shook his head.
“Nobody ever burned down the house with a pipe. Now are you going to make me some supper, now you got some groceries?”
“Don’t I always?”
“I want red meat, no chicken breasts,” he warned.
Sharon rolled her eyes.
“The doctor said—”
“The doctor said a little red meat now and then is fine. It doesn’t have to be a twelve-ounce steak, darling. Just a taste. You can even mix it up with those dang vegetables you’re always stirring. As long as it’s got steak in it, I’ll eat it without complaining.”
Sharon smiled and laughed at him.
“I’ll make you some stir fry,” she promised.
“As long as I can put soy sauce on it,” Barry amended.
“You can put soy sauce on it.”
“Not that reduced-salt crap.”
“That’s all we’ve got,” Sharon said with a shrug.
Barry sighed. They went into the house, and Barry started to unload the groceries while Sharon busied herself getting the stove ready, and a few dishes washed up and out of the way.
“White rice, not brown stuff,” Barry told her.
“It’s half-and-half.”
“Can’t you make me white rice?”
“I did. And brown rice. And mixed them together.”
“It takes three times as long to make it that way.”
“But you eat it,” she teased.
Barry chuckled. There was a scratching at the door, and he went to let the dogs in. “Come on in girls! Did you get tired of playing outside?”
Sharon shook her head at him. “I swear, you give them more attention than you did your own kids.”
Barry washed their paws gently before letting them the rest of the way into the house. Then he looked at Sharon.
“They smell better than the kids,” he joked. “And they’re better behaved.”
He changed their water dishes and topped off their food bowls. As they started to eat, he patted their heads.
Barry struggled to make it up the stairs. It was getting harder and harder each day. It was time to find a house where it was easier to get around. Maybe a condo, so someone else could take care of the yard, too. He was just getting too old for it.
He stopped for a rest halfway up the stairs, breathing heavily. The girls ran up and down the stairs, waiting for him to finish the journey to the top. Sharon was getting ready for bed. He heard her turn off the water and put her toothbrush in the jar.
“Barry, are you okay?” she called from the bedroom.
“Yes, I’ll be up in a minute,” he told her.
He waited for a few more breaths and then started up the stairs again. When he got to the top, he rested again. The girls followed him, more sedate now.
“What’s taking so long?” Sharon asked. She looked at him. “Are you okay? You’re flushed.”
“Just getting a bit harder to get up the stairs. I’m tired today.”
“You need to stop smoking and lose weight,” she admonished.
“Not today,” Barry sighed.
He went to brush his own teeth and perform his other oblations. When he got out of the bathroom, the girls were waiting patiently for him on the other side of the door. He patted each of them and led them over to their beds.
“A treat before bed,” he told them, and he got out a tooth-cleaning biscuit for each one of them. As they settled on their beds, he gave them each their biscuit, patted them once more on the head and scratched their ears. Then he climbed into bed with Sharon and settled in.
“Love you, sweetie,” he told her, giving her a hug and kiss. She turned off the light.
When Barry started to snore, the two small dogs climbed up on the bed and nestled into the space beside him.
Sharon awoke and stretched, forcing her eyes open. She sat up, and looked down at her sleeping husband, gazing at his peaceful face. She pushed at the dogs with her toes.
“Get off the bed,” she murmured. “Go on. Go to your beds.”
They looked at her with their liquid brown eyes and didn’t move. They panted, tongues out in doggie smiles. They were warm and comfortable, and there was no way they were moving at her whispered command. Barry shifted in his sleep, wheezing a bit, and settling again. Sharon drew circles on the soft skin of his inner arm.
“Barry. Time to wake up,” she told him.
Barry’s eyes squinted open and he smiled at her. “Morning, sweetheart,” he said hoarsely.
“How was your night?”
He shrugged. “Restless, but okay.” He yawned. “How about yours?”
“The girls woke me up a few times.”
He shifted his legs and looked down at the dogs. “Goldie and Gilda,” he reproached. “Why aren’t you in your beds?”
They both looked at him panting happily. After a moment, they both stood up and came over to snuffle at his hands and lick his face. Barry laughed.
“They say they’re sorry for keeping you awake,” he told Sharon.
She laughed. “They do not! You spoil those girls rotten,” she said.
“I know. But they’re so sweet.”
“You can’t keep letting them sleep on the bed with you, you know.”
“Eh,” he grunted. “It doesn’t bother me.”
“But they keep you from getting a good sleep too. Not just me.”
Barry shifted and swung his feet over the side of the bed. He rubbed his swollen legs. “Old bones,” he complained. “Why do we have to keep getting older, Sharon?”
“I don’t know why you have to keep getting older. I’m certainly not.”
He looked at her. She had gray hair and lots of wrinkles pointing cheerfully up. She was still lithe and shapely. A bit slower, but faster than he was. Her smile was still girlish and could set his heart racing. Or maybe his heart just raced a lot more as he got older.
“You’re still as beautiful as the day I met you,” he confirmed.
“I know I don’t feel any older. I always thought old people must feel as old as they look. But I still feel like a twenty-year-old in my head. What kind of dirty trick is that?”
Barry nodded.
“They never told us our bodies would get older, but we’d still feel like kids. I don’t feel mature, or confident. I thought I was going to know everything by now.”
“And life still surprises us. Well, at least it’s not boring.”
“Things could be worse,” Barry admitted, and he bent over to kiss her.
The dogs tried to push between them. Barry finished the kiss and then scratched their heads.
“Come on, girls; I’ll take you outside.”
They jumped down off of the bed eagerly and led the way down the stairs. Barry pulled on his robe and made his way down the stairs. His knees cracked and ached, but he knew they’d feel better as he moved around and warmed them up. He let the dogs out and turned on the coffee maker. While he waited, he browsed through the fridge for anything good. He cut off a chunk of cheese and nibbled at it while he watched the dogs out the window. Sharon wasn’t down yet, and when the dogs came back in, he broke off a little bit of cheese for each of them and fed them.
“Don’t you tell Momma,” he warned them.
“Don’t tell me what?” Sharon asked, sneaking down the stairs with a tread like a cat’s. “What are you feeding those dogs now?”
Barry popped the rest of the cheese in his mouth.
“Nothing,” he said, talking around it as he chewed.
“Barry Munsch, you are incorrigible!” she accused.
“I know, baby. But then, you always were attracted to the bad boys.”
Sharon walked over to the coffee machine and poured them each a cup.
“Put a pinch of sugar in mine?” Barry suggested.
“No sugar. You checked your levels this morning?”
“No, not yet.”
“Well, get to it before you eat anything else. We need to know how much insulin you need.”
Barry rolled his eyes. “Just let me feed the girls first.”
“You need to look after yourself before the dogs. The girls will be fine.”
Chapter Six
BRENDA WAS OUT IN the garden enjoying the weather. The cool fall air was refreshing. Cool enough to need a sweater, but not so much she needed gloves or a hat. There wouldn’t be a lot of nice days left before the snow flew, and then there would be no more gardening until the spring.
She pulled the last of the carrots and turned to the potato patch. She looked at her watch to see how much time she had before she would need to get lunch together for the kids. They were playing in the sandbox. But before long, she’d have to feed them and get them ready for preschool.
Brenda grabbed the shovel from the shed and started to dig the potatoes. There was something dark in the corner of the potato patch and Brenda went to pick up whatever garbage had blown in. Her hand was about an inch away when she realized it was furry. It was a black animal, not a garbage bag or piece of trash. She gasped and stared at the stiff body. At first, she thought it was another squirrel. But as she stared, trying to sort out the shadows and shapes, she realized it was a cat. Uggh. Was it the neighbor’s cat? Had it been poisoned or caught its neck on something?
Getting closer, she realized that it had been no accident. The catch had been savaged; ripped apart.
Brenda glanced over at the kids playing in the sandbox. She couldn’t do anything to draw their attention to the poor deceased beast. She’d have to leave it until after they were at preschool. Until then, she needed to keep them out of the area.
“Kids, let’s go in the house and make some cookies,” Brenda called.
Getting them out of the sandbox before it was time could prove to be a difficult prospect. But if they had an incentive… cookie making was a rare treat. Brenda could make some peanut butter cookies. It was a simple, three-ingredient recipe. Pretty much foolproof, other than preve
nting the kids from eating dough with raw egg in it.
The children looked up and then looked at each other. With big smiles, they jumped up and ran toward her, sandy hands and faces.
“No, go straight into the house, not over here!” Brenda warned them. “Brush off on the mat.”
They turned around and buzzed to the door, where they brushed themselves off half-heartedly and then stomped into the house, leaving a fine layer of play sand in the entryway.
“Take off your shoes,” Brenda instructed, coming up behind them. “They’re full of sand.”
Bubba had his off first. Cassy whined and begged for help. Brenda bent down, wiping her sweaty face with the back of her hand. She helped Cassy to get her shoes undone and off her feet.
“There you go. Now you guys go wash your hands. Right now,” Brenda motioned to the bathroom beside the kitchen.
They headed off, bickering over the sink and spraying each other. They came back with not just their hands, but also their faces dripping. Brenda smiled, shaking her head. She looked around.
“Where’s Jake?”
“Him sleeping,” Cassy advised, motioning to the front room.
Brenda went in and found him sleeping on the couch. Not on his bed, but in Darren’s spot.
“Jake!” Brenda snapped.
His eyes flew open and his head popped up. But he didn’t get off the couch.
“Get down!” Brenda shouted. “Down off the couch!”
He looked at her for a moment and then slid off the front of the couch, oozing from the seat cushion to the floor. He sat down, head hanging low, his ears and tail hanging motionless.
“Come to your kennel,” Brenda told him. He didn’t move. “Come!” Brenda insisted.
The dog heeled, his head still down, acting like she had beaten him. Brenda took him past the kids in the kitchen and pointed at his open kennel.
“In your kennel,” she ordered.
He obeyed her slowly; his hangdog look not missed by the kids.
“Mama,” Cassy whined. “Why go bed?”
“He didn’t do anything wrong,” Bubba protested. “Now he’s sad.”
“He’ll be just fine. You don’t want him jumping up trying to eat your cookies, do you?”
Bubba laughed. “Yes, I do! That would be funny!”
Loose the Dogs Page 5
