Day 9: Image/Escaped Pet. Yeah, I know. I'm out of sequence...
Virgil was in a nostalgic mood. He didn't get much time to indulge in the past with so much happening in the now, but he was the one brother who made sure to visit the old farmstead where they grew up on a regular basis.
Currently he was sitting in the old spare room he used to call a studio and flicking through a very old sketch book. He couldn't have been older than six or seven when he'd drawn most of these, and he smiled to himself as he gingerly ran a hand over the pencil marks.
All his brothers were here. John, reading in their father's favoured chair. A chubby toddler Gordon pulling a string of yellow ducks wearing just a pair of underpants. Baby Alan asleep in their Mom's lap. Dad and Mom cuddled up together on the couch.
They were very good images, but they were so obviously drawn by a child – even one as talented as he had been. He hadn't even thought about some of these images since he had drawn them.
And then he flipped the page.
There was an eight-year-old Scott, curled up with their old dog Rusty. The dog's head was resting on Scott's knee and his brother's hand was resting on it. Propped on his knees was a book he was reading.
The image the sketch called to mind suddenly filled with colour. Scott's blue eyes, Rusty's reddish fur, the bright neon green of the book cover with the garish yellow fish. Virgil hadn't drawn them in, but just beyond where the sketch ended at Scott's feet, lay three-year-old Gordon, on his stomach with his legs kicking while he was listening. Behind Scott and Rusty John was on the couch, looking like he was reading his own book but he was still listening.
He sat down with a coffee as the events preceding the sketch played out like a movie…
Blue eyes filled with tears and a bottom lip wibbled.
'I'm sorry, Scotty. Rusty got out while I was in town.' Lucy was sitting on a chair with her eldest son stood in front of her, hands on his shoulders ready to pull him in close.
'But…but he's old! Anything could happen to him out there! I gotta go find him!'
And before she could stop him Scott had wriggled out of her grasp and run out the front door. Being five months pregnant meant she wasn't as fast on her feet as she used to be, and with John upstairs and Virgil and Gordon in the playroom, it wasn't as if she could follow Scott any further than the front door.
The eight-year-old was long gone before she even got there. And for a wild moment Lucy just wanted to cry. Four little hands pulled her away from the door and led her to the easy chair that Jeff favoured. Gordon climbed onto her lap and wiped tears away while Virgil shut the door and pulled a bottle of water from the fridge.
The ministrations of her six- and three-year-old boys made her even more tearful and it took some effort to get herself together. She hugged them tightly, called John down from his bedroom to watch them, and went to call Grant, Ruth and Jeff.
Grant said he and Ruth would be right over, bringing a couple of farm hands with him to help look for both the dog and Scott. Jeff immediately cancelled the rest of the day and left the office.
Ruth helped Lucy with getting things done in the house like dinner while Jeff, Grant and three farm hands were out searching.
They weren't gone for long.
Grant found Scott with Rusty pulled onto his lap a couple of streets over. The child had buried his face into the fur around the dog's head, and for a moment Grant feared the worst. But then the dog's head lifted and his tail thumped as he approached. Scott lifted his head too, smiling through the tears as Grant crouched down beside him.
'I found him, Grandpa, but he's too heavy and his back leg isn't working. I didn't want to leave him.'
'That's ok, Scotty. You did good. Is Rusty injured?'
'I don't think so. Just his leg playing up again.'
'Ok. You go ahead and get the car open for me and I'll carry him.'
Scott hopped from foot to foot, watching as Grandpa picked Rusty up, who gave him a lick on his cheek, and then he ran ahead and opened the back door, climbing in and buckling up. Grant lay the dog on the back seat with his head on Scott's lap, making sure that his grandson was holding on tight.
Grant let everyone know what had happened and drove Scott and Rusty to the vet, where the dog was given an injection and Scott was given instructions on how to help Rusty with some exercises and by keeping him warm, and then they went home.
After everyone had eaten dinner the boys retired to the living room, where Jeff had placed Rusty's basket beside the fire. Scott leaned into him and the dog responded by curling around him as best he could. Gordon soon joined them on the floor, passing Scott one of his favourite books to read. John lay on the couch, reading one of his own books while Virgil had brought his sketch book out.
Virgil traced his hand over the sketch, a smile on his lips. With Scott's ministrations that dog had lived another year, and sometimes he wondered whether Gordon's love of animals actually stemmed from him observing the care Scott took with their dog.
He sighed, content.