Even driving up the driveway, I could see some of the cattle to the west field, running the opposite way. I saw somebody on

horseback, (Evan, I was fairly sure), who was trying to head the cattle off. Two ATVs were out in the field, too, and one seemed

to be helping Evan, while the other one was zooming around in circles. I stood outside my truck, squinting and trying to

see what was happening to cause the cattle to be running that way.

And, then, I saw the cause. The reason. The culprit. The stray pup. He was alternately chasing cows, nipping at their

hind legs, and then full-out running from the ATV. I saw somebody-I thought it was Crane, getting off the one ATV and

trying to coax the pup to come to him.

"Bat shit!" I muttered. How had the pup gotten out of his stall? And, now he was chasing the cows?!

I left everything right there in the truck seat, and began to run towards the field. I could hear the sounds of Warrior and Jethro Bodine

barking, barking, barking, from wherever they'd been penned up.

Gus, though, was out in the field, helping Evan to corral the cattle.

I scrambled thru the fence and ran, skirting my way around the cows, who seemed to be in panic mode. One of those-well, that

cow is running from something, so I'll run, too-is what they seemed to be thinking.

The pup came running within twenty feet or so of me, and I called to him, trying to get him to come to me. But, the freedom

of the open spaces, and the entertainment of making all those cows run seemed to have gotten to him. He wouldn't come to me,

and ran off the other direction.

He ran at the small group of cattle that Evan and Adam, who were on horseback, and Brian on the other ATV, had managed to get together,

and effectively managed to re-scatter them again.

I heard Brian's swearing over the roar of the ATV, and cringed. I didn't know what else to do so I took off after the pup again.

I thought the dog must be part greyhound or something, because he could flat-out run! I came to a stop, trying to catch my

breath, and meeting up with Crane, who had been trying to corner the dog from the other direction.

"Stop running him," Crane told me, out of breath himself. "I think it's just making it worse. He thinks it's a game."

"This is bad," I said. It was a dumb thing to say, but my heart was thumping, and my stomach was in a nervous knot. I was

going to be in big trouble.

Crane didn't even respond to my inane remark. I think he knew I just said it from nerves.

He was looking around, as if judging what to do.

"Run get him something to eat," Crane told me. "We'll try catching him that way."

I ran all the way back down the pasture, and thru the fence again. I would have gone inside to get the dog something,

but I remembered there was half of my sandwich from lunch left that I hadn't eaten. If I don't finish my lunch, I usually bring

it home, and give it to Clarence. On the sly, of course. Otherwise, I'd get lectured for not eating properly.

So, I snatched that from my truck cab, and began my run back again, as out of the corner of my eye, I saw Daniel's truck

coming up the driveway.

Once in the field, I ran past Brian on the ATV, and towards the pup, who was seemingly getting tired, and sitting, barking at

the cows, who were now being rounded up into a calmer group.

Evan came riding near to me, and tossed me a rope. "Put this on him," he said.

I took the rope, and started walking more slowly towards the pup. He seemed to know that he was in my bad graces, though, because

he got up and trotted in the opposite way.

Crane was walking up from that direction. He held up a cautionary hand to me to pause where I was.

"Let's not crowd him," he said.

I came to a stop, and so did Crane, with the pup in between us.

"Show him what you brought," Crane said.

So, I held out the sandwich so the pup could see, and kept talking to him. Crane told me to throw him just a little, and when I did,

he gobbled it up, looking at me for more.

"Lay the rope down," Crane said, and, when I'd done that, he said, "I'll come round and pick it up. You go on and try

to get up to him, to feed him the rest."

We did that, and a couple minutes later, I was on my knees in the dirt of the field, my arm around the dog's neck, and letting

him eat the rest of the sandwich.

"Hold him," Crane said, and came up quietly behind, reaching down to loop the rope thru the collar the pup wore.

Crane raised his arm and gave a wave towards the others. When I risked a look, I could see that they were all sitting, either

on horseback or the ATV, keeping the cattle still, but prepared, it looked like, in case the dog took another run at the cattle.

The pup didn't take kindly to having the rope on him, and began to pull and jerk. I wasn't expecting it, and slipped to one knee

in the dirt.

"I've got him," Crane said. I stood up, and heaved a sigh. Relief that he was caught, but dreading the confrontation that

was sure to come.

I was going to ask Crane for some help. Even if he was irritated, he would maybe shield me from the wrath of

other brothers-but I didn't have a chance, because Adam was upon me, still on horseback. And then Evan, and then Brian, who turned off

the ATV motor.

"Are the cows okay?" I ventured to ask.

"If they are, it's no thanks to that mutt," Brian said. His tone was definitely on the upper level of the 1-10 irritation

scale.

"This-situation-that happened here, this is what I'm talkin' about, Harlie," Adam said. "This is the reason we don't bring

strange dogs around, without knowin' how they'll react to the livestock."

I looked up at him, and nodded. What was there to say to that? He was right.

"How'd he get out, anyway?" Evan demanded.

"I know the latch was closed," I said. "I remember checking it this morning-"

"How it happened doesn't matter now," Crane said. "What matters is making sure it doesn't happen again." Ah, Crane. The voice of

calm and reason.

"Call somebody from that animal group of yours from school to take him," Brian said. "Get him gone tonight."

"There isn't anybody, Bri," I protested.

"Well, he cannot stay here," Brian said, with finality.

My mind was going over the options, of which there were none, really, and I faced them all, feeling defeated.

"I don't think-that I can find somewhere tonight," I said. I felt weepy, of all things. They were a formidable group. They were.

And, even though they hadn't been rough or yelled at me, or anything like that, I still knew that they were at their limit of

self-control, more than likely.

"I don't want him back in the barn stall," Adam said. "If he got out once, then he might again, and I don't want

a repeat of this."

"How about the tack shed?" Evan suggested. "Just for tonight, I mean?"

"That's not a bad idea," Adam said. He looked toward Crane and Brian. "What do you guys think?"

Crane nodded in agreement, and Brian lifted one hand in a gesture as if to say, 'if that's the best there is, then why not?' He looked

vastly irritated.

"I'll walk him," Crane told me. "Harlie, go and get his food and water set up in the tack shed."

"Okay," I said. I set off towards the house and barns at a fast walk.

I went to retrieve the two bowls from the stall where the pup had been, and went to the hydrant, filling one with fresh water. By

the time I'd carried them to the tack shed, Crane was there, still holding the rope in a firm grasp.

"Go on and put 'em in there," he told me. I set the bowls down, and he undid the rope from the dog's collar. The dog

immediately went to begin slurping water.

Thirsty, obviously, from his grand adventure.

Crane opened the one window a couple of inches, so that there was a breeze coming in.

He began rolling up the rope, and we stepped outside, and he closed the tack shed door.

I could see Brian parking the ATV beside the barn, and Adam and Evan unsaddling their horses.

"Why do I get myself into this stuff?" I muttered, half to myself.

"You've got a big heart. That's why." Crane said.

"Will you remind them of that?" I asked, nodding towards Brian and Adam. "About my big heart?"

"They know it already," Crane said. "They're just frustrated, kiddo."

"Harlie!" Adam called out, and then motioned with his hand for me to come.

"Will you come, too?" I asked Crane softly.

"Start walking," he said, sounding as though he was smiling. "I'm right behind you."

Both of them stood, waiting for me. Crane paused, to the side.

"Who's the girl you got the dog from?" Adam asked, without preamble.

I had a feeling, a bad one, that I knew where this was going...

"Beth Ann Hopkins," I said, reluctantly.

"Call her. Tell her you're gonna deliver that mutt back to her in the mornin'," Brian said.

I opened my mouth to protest, then closed it, but I guess my expression still spoke because Brian said, "What, Harlie?"

"I don't think she can take him back again," I said.

"Why not?" Brian asked, looking as though he was going to explode.

"Her mother said she could only keep one of them-there were three," I said, sort of lamely.

Adam and Brian were both looking at me as though I'd grown two purple horns out of the top of my head.

"So, you're more concerned with what Beth Ann's mother thinks than what we think?" Brian demanded.

Ouch.

"That's not what she means," Crane defended me. "Is it, Harlie?"

"No. It's not," I said. "I just meant-her mother may say that she can't take the pup back-"

There was a few moments of stilted silence.

"I'll call her," I conceded. That was obviously what they expected me to say.

"If she won't, then maybe he can go to the shelter at Stockton," Adam suggested. "One of us can drive over there

tomorrow with you."

"The shelter," I said, in a low, horrified voice.

"Yeah. The shelter," Adam said.

They were both looking at me questioningly, and I suddenly felt as though I was going to throw up. Or cry. Or both.

"Can I go now?" I asked, without looking at either one of them directly.

"We're talkin', peach," Brian said.

I should have taken encouragement from the fact that he was using his pet name for me...

"I know-but I've got stuff to do," I said, abruptly, and turned around to walk towards the house. "Phone calls to

make and all that-"

I'd only gone a few steps when Adam said, "Harlie Marie." He didn't say it in a mean way or anything, but there

was a tone to it. The tone of authority. He meant it.

I stopped and turned back to look at them. All three of them.

"Come back here," he said.

I walked back the few feet, keeping my eyes on a tree in the distance, stoic.

At first I was quiet, and Brian prompted me, sounding impatient, his hands on his hips. "You have somethin' to say, this

is the time," he told me.

"The shelter is a terrible place," I said. "It's really crowded, and-there aren't enough volunteers to take care of all

the dogs there, so sometimes they go days without any human contact. And it's dirty-" I let my voice trail off.

They were all looking at me, with varying shades of confusion.

"Dogs there hardly ever get adopted," I added.

When it looked as though Brian was going to say something, I went on talking. "It's a kill shelter," I said, and my eyes

began to fill up with tears.

"I know it's my fault, because I'm the one that brought him here, and you can take it out on me, but please don't make

me take him to the shelter," I said.

Adam sighed. "Well, call Beth Ann and see what she says," he said, not unkindly.

I nodded, relieved. Even though they hadn't said that the pup wouldn't have to go to the shelter, I felt fairly certain that

they weren't going to make me do that. They weren't cruel, not by a long shot. Just frustrated ranchers. And, I understood that.

The cattle were our livelihood. We couldn't have anything chasing the cows, and causing possible harm, whether it be a stray dog,

or anything else.

"I'll call her, and if she won't, then I'll keep calling, and looking, until I find a place for him," I said. "I'll work the whole

evening on it-"

"You've got something to do later, though, don't you?" Crane spoke up.

Ah. My evening with Kenny, and Guthrie and Kristin. At the new fancy restaurant.

I nodded, and Adam sighed again. "Nobody is sayin' that you can't have your night out, Harlie. We just need to figure out

somethin' in the next day or so about the dog."

I nodded, relieved, but still feeling wrung out.

Brian reached out and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. "Nobody's mad at you, peach. Just frustrated."

I nodded again, and he squeezed me.

7