Drover, Head of Ranch Security

Chapter Two: The Cat Almost Wins

It was a mournful day on the Texas ranch as Loper shoveled the last of the dirt on top of Hank's grave, which everyone decided to place inside Sally May's garden so a wild animal couldn't get to it. Everyone was there---Loper, Sally May,Little Alfred, Baby Molly, Slim, Drover...even Pete was there.

Sally May dabbed her eyes with a tissue as she shifted Molly to her other arm. "Shouldn't somebody say a few words?"

"He was your dog, Loper," Slim told his friend.

Loper sighed. "Boy, ol' Hank. I can't imagine not having him around. Even though he stunk, got into trouble constantly, acted like he didn't have a brain at times, and pretty much got in the way---he was still a darned good dog. Somehow he managed to clown his way around into being the hero. He saved me from quicksand, saved Alfred from a rattlesnake, delivered medicine for Molly, and other numerous things. I played my share of practical jokes on him and even though he shunned me at first, he always came back."

Sally May sniffed away some tears. "Hank, although you were always harrassing my cat, ruining my garden, and possessing my son to do devilish things, you still managed to win my heart a few times. When you got hurt, you always came to me first---I guess because you figured I was a good enough mother to my children, that I could do the same for you. Bye, Hank." She started crying, which upset Molly and made her start squalling as well.

Alfred wiped his nose with his shirt sleeve. "Bye, Hankie. You were my best friend. I'm gonna miss playing pirates and spaceship with you."

"Gonna miss you, Hank," Slim said. "You always managed to tolerate my lamebrain schemes and my singing. Not everyone can do that."

Everyone stood around in silence for a while. "I guess that's it then," Loper stated. Everyone quietly went back towards the inside of the house for dinner, although not really anybody felt like eating.

Drover sat there in front of the grave for a while longer before he decided to leave. Even though he was feeling dreary, he somehow managed to jump the fence surrounding the garden without getting tangled up. He decided he'd go to his special hide-out spot in the back of the machine shed so he could be alone for a while.

"Drover?" he heard Pete say from the side. He turned around and saw Pete sitting in his iris patch inside the garden. He looked kinda sad, which was surprising given his and Hank's relationship. "I just wanted you to know I'm sorry."

"Thanks, Pete," Drover told him, continuing his walk towards the machine shed.

Pete twitched his tail and turned around to look at the little grave that was on the opposite end of the garden. The idea of Hank's body being in that close proximity to HIS body gave him the creeps, so he leaped the fence and "pattered" after Drover. Besides, he wasn't done talking to him yet...

"Wait a minute, Drover, ol' pal," he called, managing to get Drover to slow down a little bit so the cat could catch up. "I had a question for ya, if it's all right."

"I reckon so," Drover sighed. He wasn't really in a mood for questions right now, but given that he WAS the new Head of Ranch Security, he figured he'd best get used to answering them.

"Now that Hankie's gone...well...I just wondered if that puts YOU in charge," he asked with a slight grin that Drover didn't catch.

"Yeah, Pete, he told me that I was in charge now."

"My my, what a BIG responsibility that must be! I mean, you have to do all that stuff Hankie did that you always bailed out on before. Like, checking ALL those pastures, chasing 'monsters', rounding up cattle..." He was smirking now and began studying the claws of his right front paw. "Since Hankie's gone and that leaves you, I can imagine that everybody's gonna start yelling at YOU when things go wrong."

Drover's bottom lip started trembling. "You're right, Pete. That's a lotta work for a little scaredy dog like me. I don't monsters and I don't know how to do any of that stuff that Hank did because I was too lazy to help him and know I wish I had!" He busted down into tears, collapsed to the ground and covered his nose and eyes with his front legs.

Pete's smirk turned into a somewhat evil grin and patted Drover on the shoulder. "Poor Drover, I didn't mean to make you upset. I was just trying to help you know what your job title demanded."

"I know, Pete, you're a pretty good pal."

"Mmm-hmm, that's right, I am a good pal. And I'm such a good pal that I'll even tell you how you can get rid of this burden you're carrying."

Drover stopped crying almost instantly and peeked his eyes out from under his leg. "You do? Really?"

"Sure I do. Afterall, cats are very intelligent plan-makers. Now, if you really don't want the job, Drover, you could...give it away to someone else."

Drover sniffed as he picked himself up off the ground. "Someone else? Like who?"

"Like...I hate to sound conceited but...me for example."

"YOU?"

"Of course, who else on this ranch is smart enough to handle the job? Obviously not the chickens. Where would we be if this outfit were run by chickens?"

"Well, I'm chicken-hearted---"

"That's close enough, don't you think? Now why don't we arrange some sort of---"

"BUT I'M NOT ENTIRELY STUPID!" Drover growled, sticking in his nose in the cat's face.

Pete wasn't expecting Drover's irate reaction. His back curved up and he hissed, something he ever rarely did to Drover. He had been expecting an easy victory and was not pleased at this turning point.

"You just want the job for yourself! You never wanted to help me at all, you selfish thing!"

"It's for the best, Drover," Pete tried to explain, his claws ready to scratch if the dog's nose got close enough again. "Admit it, you can't handle this."

"No, I can't," he stated. "But I'm gonna try because Hank told me to and he'd be very upset if a CAT were in charge."

"Hank's gone, it's not like you're gonna have to sit in the corner if you don't grant his last request!"

"I'd feel terrible if I didn't, Pete. The whole time I've been here, I hardly ever did what Hank told me to do. I oughta be a true friend and at least do THIS for him." Drover turned his back on the enraged cat and head back towards the machine shed.

Pete was quivering with anger that his plan failed. "I thought we were friends, Drover!"

Drover stopped. All these years, he'd thought him and Pete had been somewhat friends as well. The cat had usually never tried to dupe him before, probably because next to Sally May, Drover was the only other person on the ranch that was nice to him. Drover turned his head and saw the cat still sitting in the same spot where he had left him.

"So did I, Pete," he called over his shoulder, and continued walking.