Who or whom did that leave?

  A pickup cream caking toward the house…a pickup came creeping toward the house, that is, and the “creeping” gave me an uneasy feeling. Friendlies and good guys don’t creep around. They drive. The bad guys and the Charlies creep.

  I dived behind a cedar bush and took cover. We needed to check this out before we got ourselves involved in something heavy. Drover didn’t notice that I had gone into hiding and went skipping past, firing off squeaks.

  “Psst, over here!”

  He stopped and glanced around. “Hello? I thought I heard a snake.”

  “It’s me, over here.”

  It took him a while, but he finally located me. “Oh, hi. Did you see that snake? He sounded like a big one.”

  “Get over here and take cover!”

  He crept over to the bush, glancing around with big eyes. “Where’s the snake?”

  “Drover, there’s no snake. I said ‘Psst’ to get your attention.”

  “Oh good, I’m scared of snakes. What are we doing?”

  “We’re setting up a scout position. We don’t dare commit troops until we get some identification on that trespasser.”

  “Oh, you mean Loper?”

  “What?”

  “It’s Loper.”

  “What makes you think so?”

  “Because Loper’s driving.”

  I took a closer…hm, sure enough, the driver appeared to be the owner of our ranch, and he appeared to be driving one of the ranch pickups. “Nice work, son, you passed.”

  “It was a test?”

  “Exactly. Once a month we go through this little drill to make sure our systems are working.”

  “How’d I do?”

  “Actually, you did pretty well.”

  “What do you mean, ‘actually’?”

  “It means you did pretty well and everyone on the staff is shocked.”

  “Gosh, thanks. So you’re proud of me?”

  “Oh yes, very proud. Put a few more of those high scores together and we just might find a little promotion for you.”

  He almost melted. “A promotion, no fooling? Oh goodie!”

  “Congratulations, we’ll celebrate later. Right now, we have to give Loper an escort to the house.”

  It was kind of an emotional moment, wasn’t it? You bet. As I say, rust is the enemy in this business. It’s very important that we do those monthly drills to check out our equipment, and Drover had exceeded everyone’s expectorations. Very touching.

  Anyway, we left the cedar bush, sprinted out in front of the pickup, and gave the boss an escort all the way to the house. We knew that he didn’t need help finding his way, but Escort is part of our Regular Service Package and we’re glad to do it.

  He parked in front of the house and walked up to the porch. I fell in step beside him and gave him a big Good Morning Smile. He seemed preoccupied and didn’t notice.

  Oh well. Sometimes they speak to the dogs in the morning and sometimes they don’t.

  He banged on the door. Seconds passed. “Hey, get out of bed!” More seconds passed. He speared me with his eyes and said, “Is he still asleep?”

  Huh? Not asleep, but not exactly ready to meet the public either.

  “Slowest human I ever met.” He banged again.

  At last the door swung open, revealing Slim pretty muchly as he had looked the last time I’d seen him, in his long johns and wearing a pack rat’s nest on his head.

  Oh, and he was holding a jumble of white paper in one hand. Loper scowled. “What’s that?”

  “Nothing. Can you come back later?”

  “No. We need to talk.”

  Slim tried to close the door but Loper pushed his way into the house. I had been expecting something like this and was ready to make my move. Whilst the door was open a crack, I slithered past Lipper’s logs and squirted over to my spot in front of the wood stove.

  I slithered past Loper’s legs, it should be. In a flash, I was lying on the floor, broadcasting a look that said, “I’ve been here for hours.”

  Nobody seemed to notice. Hee hee. Good.

  Loper’s gaze darted around the house. It looked, well, pretty bad: streams of white bunting, the avalanche from the closet, an overturned table, and the remains of Aunt Olive’s lamp. He gave his head a shake. “What happened in here?”

  Slim’s back stiffened and I think his lip curled. Yes, it did, I saw it, and he growled, “You just had to show up, didn’t you? I know you love to catch me at the worst possible times.”

  “I don’t plan it that way. There’s just so many opportunities. What happened?”

  “I can’t explain it.”

  Loper’s eyes roamed. “The lamp?”

  “It broke.”

  “Yes, I believe it did. Ugly color, yellow. Reminds me of a headache.”

  “Someone gave it to my aunt and she fobbed it off on me. I never got around to hauling it to the dump.”

  “Well, I think you can now. Is that toilet paper?”

  “Yes, it is.” Slim’s head swung around and his eyes came at me like laser beans. “That’s his work, and how did he get back inside my house?”

  I tried to shrink myself into an inconspicuous pile of hair.

  “Hank did all that?”

  “Ten four. The dog has talents we never dreamed of.”

  Loper snorted a laugh. “Well, y’all have been having a lot of fun this morning. Is there any chance you might be able to squeeze in some ranch work? I don’t want to interfere, but if there’s an opening in your schedule…”

  Slim gave his head a shake. “Loper, when you grow up, you might be a comedian, but you ain’t there yet. Get to the point.”

  Loper’s grin faded. “Have you heard the weather report?”

  “No. I make my own bad news. I don’t need any help from the radio.”

  “Well, you ought to tune into the world once in a while. There’s a winter storm moving this way. They’re talking about ice and freezing rain.”

  “When’s it due?”

  “This afternoon and tonight. We need to get prepared.” Loper smirked. “But only if it’s handy. If you and Hank need to roll out some more paper or wreck some more lamps, we can put it off till spring.”

  Slim rolled his eyes. “I don’t know how Sally May stands your company. I’ll meet you at headquarters as quick as I can get there, and throw that dog out when you leave. Bye.”

  Slim tromped off to the bedroom and Loper turned a snarly look at me. “I think you’ve been invited to leave.”

  Huh? Me? But I just…

  “OUT!”

  Chapter Seven: A Crisis in Town

  Gee, what a grouch. I’m not the kind of dog who complains about the manners of his people, but sometimes they come across as downright rude, especially in the morning. If a dog has even the slightest snivelinskity, he’s likely to get his feelings hurt.

  Wait. The word we’re looking for is “sensitivity.” Now we’re truckin’. If a dog has any kind of sensitivity in his nature, it’s likely to get stepped on by the rude people on this ranch, such as Slim and Loper.

  Anyway, for the second time in the space of thirty minutes, I had been kicked out of the house, and did you hear the way Loper phrased it? “OUT!” He had all the charm of a buzzard. I mean, that’s the way you’d expect him to talk to a stray dog or a badger, but you’d suppose…never mind.

  Fine. If they didn’t want me in the house, I sure didn’t need to waste another minute of my life in there. I’m a very busy dog and had better things to do.

  By the way, did you happen to notice what Slim said about the destruction of his “precious heirloom” lamp? He didn’t even care! He said it was UGLY and he was glad to get rid of it!

  Why do I bother worrying about those guys?

  Anyway, Loper went back to headquarters, and I found myself back on the porch with Drover. We sat there like stumps for what seemed a year, until Slim finally made his entry into the world. He was wearing clothes this time and carrying something in a grocery sack.

  When he saw me, he held up the sack and gave it a shake. Something inside rattled. “I couldn’t have wrecked it without your help, pooch.”

  Okay, the lamp.

  We loaded into the pickup and drove the two miles west to headquarters. Since we were running late, Slim drove faster than usual. At one point, going downhill, we got up to twenty miles an hour.

  He didn’t say a word until we reached the turnoff to headquarters. There, his gaze began sliding in my direction and I had a feeling that he had something on his mind. Sure enough, he did.

  “Thanks to you and your shenanigans, I didn’t get my morning coffee. When I don’t get my coffee, I ain’t my usual charming, lovable self, so try not to do anything ignorant for the rest of the day. Can we make a deal on that?”

  Oh brother.

  “Raise your right front paw and promise on the memory of your doggie grandma that you won’t do anything ignorant until tomorrow morning.”

  This was so silly! I would NOT raise my right front paw and be part of this nonsense.

  “And thanks again for fixing up my place. Now the boss knows for sure that I live in a monkey house.”

  He just goes on and on.

  “Who knows, with all your good help, maybe he’ll cut my wages in half.”

  What can you say? I turned my back on him and looked out the window and ignored him for the rest of the trip. Lucky for me, we didn’t have far to go.

  But he did get one thing right. When he doesn’t get his morning coffee, he isn’t fit to live with. The sooner I could get away from him, the better I would like it.

  When we pulled up behind the house, I hopped out of the pickup and noticed a chill in the air. The wind had shifted to the north and angry gray clouds were moving across the sun. Slim noticed it too, and turned up the collar on his coat. “Well, here it comes. Red sky at morning, sailor take warning.”

  Loper came out the back door, tying a knot in his blue wild rag. At the yard gate, he said, “Glad you could make it.”

  “I got here as fast as I could.”

  “Some day we ought to work up a race between you and a glacier.” Loper pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. “We’ve got a long list of things to do: feed hay to all the pastures, chop ice on the stock tanks, test the generator, bring in firewood…”

  Sally May opened the back door. “Loper, phone call for you.”

  “Hon, take a number. We’ve got two days’ work lined up before this storm.”

  “It’s Deputy Kile. I think you’d better take it.”

  Loper shook his head and grumbled, “Great.” He hurried back into the house. When he returned a few minutes later, his face was long, dark, and solemn. I noticed that right away. I mean, some dogs study faces and some don’t, Drover for example.

  Slim noticed too. “Well, did Deputy Kile bring glad tidings of great joy?”

  “No, and our plans just got changed.”

  “Bad news or awful?”

  “Bad enough. Some of our wheat pasture steers strayed. The electric fence must have shorted out.”

  Slim nodded. “It’s the tumbleweeds. They pile up on the wire when the wind blows, then they get wet and short out the current. I told you this was going to happen.”

  “When did you tell me that?”

  “The last time we rode through those steers. Don’t you remember? The wind was blowing hard and the tumbleweeds were rolling. You thought it was a bunch of feral hogs running across the field.”

  “I did not.”

  “Well, one of us did, and I said that one of these days, those tumbleweeds were going to short out the fence.”

  “What’s your point?”

  Slim hitched up his jeans. “Let the record show that I saw this one coming. How many steers got out?”

  “Ten head.”

  “Where’d they end up?”

  “You’ll like this. They’re on the Twitchell golf course.”

  Slim’s eyes popped open. “The golf course! Good honk, what if they go into town and start eating peoples’ yards, or walk down Main Street?”

  “Deputy Kile was concerned about that. He mentioned damages, fines, law suits, and jail time.”

  Slim shook his head and whistled under his breath. “And we’ve got a storm moving in. Well, we’d better saddle horses and head north.”

  There was a long moment of silence, as Loper rocked up and down on his toes and studied the sky. “You know, you’re always belly-aching about how you never get to do cowboy work. This sounds like a cowboy job.”

  “It sounds like a wreck waiting for some fool to show up.”

  Loper laid a hand on Slim’s shoulder. “I’ve had to make an executive decision here. Someone needs to stay at the ranch, hay the cattle and chop ice, and take care of the lowly stuff. I’ve decided to let you take the glory job.”

  Slim jerked away from Loper’s hand. “If I’d had any idea that you were listening, I would have kept my mouth shut about the cowboy stuff.”

  Loper grinned. “Yes, but you didn’t, and here we are.”

  “Loper, you’re…I don’t even have words. ‘Skunk’ is way too nice. What in the cat hair am I supposed to do with ten head of steers running a-loose on the Twitchell municipal golf course?”

  “Luckily, we’ve got a gen-u-wine old-school cowpuncher to figure that out. If it was me, I’d take the big gooseneck trailer. Maybe you can load ‘em and haul ‘em back to wheat pasture and fix the fence. Deputy Kile said he’d meet you at the golf course, and he’s bringing some portable corral panels.” He checked his watch. “You’d better saddle a horse, you’re burning daylight.”

  “Loper…”

  “Be happy in your work, and let me know how it goes.” A veil of sadness fell over his face. “Boy, I wish I was a cowboy.”

  He walked away, got into his pickup, and drove to the stack lot to load up bales of alfalfa. Slim stood speechless. “I ain’t believing this. Me and my big mouth.”

  What followed was something for the record books. Slim Chance lit a fire under his tail and began moving at a pace we had seldom seen, I mean, the man was actually rushing around! He hooked up the 24-foot gooseneck trailer and roared down to the corrals.

  Drover and I went down to the saddle shed and watched the show. Wow, it was something to see. This was a new Slim Chance! He threw a saddle on Snips, who was still half asleep and chewing his morning hay, then he trotted back into the saddle shed and grabbed two extra catch ropes.

  Drover and I sat outside the fence, watching. Drover said, “What’s wrong with him?”

  “Well, he has to do some work today.”

  “Work. What a bummer.”

  “Exactly my thought. If he’d been halfway civilized this morning, I might have volunteered to help, but I’ll be very happy to wave goodbye and watch him leave.”

  “Yeah, me too. It makes me glad I’m just a mutt, not a cowdog. Hee hee. It’s too cold for work.”

  “Exactly right. We’ll take the day off and try to stay warm. If Alfred comes outside, we’ll play with him for a while, then take a nice long nap.”

  “Oh goodie. Boy, I love naps.”

  Slim opened the saddle lot gate and led his horse to the trailer. I happened to be sitting near the back of the trailer, minding my own business, when I heard him growl, “Move!”

  No manners, no soft tone, no “please.” Fine, I could move. He threw open the trailer gate and loaded his poor, sleepy horse, who had no idea what kind of crazy things he was being sent out to do.

  Slim slammed the gate and secured the latch. He saw me sitting there. “You ain’t invited.”

  Oh really? Well, that was just fine with me. For his information, I had already planned out my day and IT DIDN’T INCLUDE HIM.

  Chapter Eight: I Get Shanghaied

  Okay, where were we? Oh yes, a cold windy day that was fixing to get colder and windier. The boss was sending Slim Chance to town on some bit of cowboy foolishness…what was it? Something about tumbleweeds on the golf course. Slim was supposed to gather up tumbleweeds and, I don’t know, feed them to a bunch of hogs that were playing golf.

  It sounded like a screwball assignment and I had no interest in being a part of it. Slim begged me to go along, but I turned him down flat. He had behaved in such a rude and crabby manner, I had no intention of spending another minute in his company.

  He didn’t deserve the warmth and companion-ship of a loyal dog. You know what he deserved? A thirty-five pound snapping turtle! Snapping turtles have a thick shell, ugly green eyes, and no personality, which makes them a perfect match for Slim Chance when he doesn’t get his morning cup of coffee.

  No sir, I had my own schedule and my own list of things to do when we got Slim off the ranch. I would check the yard gate for breakfast scraps, run Sally May’s rotten little cat up the nearest tree, volunteer a few minutes of quality time with Little Alfred, and spend the rest of the day in a warm spot, listening to the moan of the north wind.

  So there we were down at the saddle shed, Drover and I. Slim had just loaded his horse into the stock trailer and was about leave us in peace. He trotted off to the pickup and I went to work on an itchy spot on my left ear. I had given it three good hacks with my left hind leg, when I realized…huh?

  Slim was back, standing over me, and giving me a peculiar look. And he said—this is a direct quote—he said, “On second thought, I might need your help on this deal.”

  My help? Sorry, I had already made plans, and he could forget…

  “Come on, pooch, nice doggie.”

  Alarm bells went off and I began edging away. I mean, this wasn’t rocket surgery. When they start that “nice doggie” business, it always means trouble for the dogs. He made a dive for me and, naturally, I ran.