The Good Dog

The smell of death wafted from the cabin, finding her nostrils on the covered porch, drifting heavily on the panhandle’s wind like the poisonous gas it was, but she did not move. Yes, it was the smell of decay, but it was also his smell and she would not leave it.

He was the “alpha”, and was all that was left of what had been her pack, a strong pack with people and dogs and live-stock. She was a social creature. She needed others. There had once been others of her kind here, but she was born into man’s world, so she was friend to man, as he was to her. She was proud to belong with the man, with her man. He was her reason. She had lived with his pack, and so she would die with it.

She lay now on the porch, her paws crossed in front, her chin on top. A rabbit hopped warily from the scrub oak, moving slowly, testing its luck. She watched him with her ears pricked, but her chin did not lift, so the ears laid back once more. Even a rabbit could not interest her now. How lucky he was.

She climbed in fits to her feet and walked to the room. He was lying on the bed. The smell of death was strong... very strong. The air was hot, putrid even. She limped on arthritic legs to the bedside and whined. She licked a still hand, hoping for a response, a pat. She gave a single, loud bark in trial, as if to say, “rise up!” But here laid God, unable to rise. She glanced at the water bowl but passed it by despite the heat. She pushed through the slit in the nylon screen door, her slit, and plopped heavily onto the weathered boards of the porch, boards scoured clean of paint by sand, red sand blown hard like rosin upon the West Texas winds. This place on the porch was her spot, the spot where she laid and awaited the man. The air left her body in a long sigh. She would wait here now, in her spot, for she knew not what, nor how long.

The man told her she was a good dog, and she believed.

A howl escaped her. A despairing howl. The rabbit heard the howl and hopped away. It turned its ears back in case of pursuit, but not in fear. The rabbit understood its adversary. The howl told him that the dog would chase no more.

The man told her she was a good dog, and she believed.