A/N: So sorry for the very long delay in updates. I think everyone knows by now about my terrible case of writer's block that I've had for a few years now it seems. Anyhow, I just got done reading Book 53 "Drover's Secret Life" and suddenly got inspired to start writing for this story again. If you haven't read this book, do so! It's all from Drover's POV about his life before he met Hank. Like an autobiography, let's say.

Drover, Head of Ranch Security

Chapter Five: Roscoe

Meanwhile, in the small town of Twitchell, Hank's sister Maggie and her four young children had no clue that Hank had passed away. Maggie only knew it had been a long time since she had seen her brother, but of course everytime he came to visit he just got on her nerves.

Since Hank's last visit, his nieces and nephews had grown old enough to get adopted into families. Spot, Barbara, and April had already found nice homes. The only one left was Roscoe, the oldest and the one that liked Uncle Hank's visits the most. He wanted to be a cowdog just like him one day and was not too keen on the idea of becoming sometimes housepet. That was why everytime a family came over to look at him, he always misbehaved so that they wouldn't want him.

Maggie was growing increasingly worried about her oldest child, not to mention impatient and finally decided to have a talk with him.

"Roscoe....we need to have a talk about this insane phobia you have about leaving home."

"Aw, Mother, I'm not afraid of leaving home," Roscoe told her as he chewed on a bone. "I just don't want to be a town dog is all."

"Well, honey, the only kind of dogs here ARE town dogs."

"I know, that's why I don't want to get adopted by these people."

Maggie sighed. "Then what kind of people DO you want to get adopted by."

"Cowboys."

Maggie stared at him for a few momentss. "Cowboys?"

"Yeah. I want to be a cowdog like Uncle Hank."

Maggie put a paw up to her head. "I think I'm getting a headache."

"Mother, don't play that angle with me. I know you're only faking."

"Roscoe, your Uncle Hank is not exactly a great role model. He stinks, he gets in trouble, he gets thrown in the pound, he gets in fights—"

The young pup wagged his tail. "I know, doesn't that sound like fun!"

Maggie shook her head. She didn't know how to explain to her child that ranch life was dangerous and was no place for a pup like him, especially considering that he had lived in a backyard all his life.

Then she got an idea. It was crazy, and she wasn't sure if she liked it or not, but it was worth a shot if it would get her son to reconsider this crazy dream of being a cowdog.

"Roscoe, I have an idea."

"What's that?" Roscoe asked as he shook his collar, complete with name tag.

"Why don't you go to visit your Uncle Hank out in the country," she told him. "Stay a while and see if you really like being a cowdog. I would hate for you to get stuck doing something you may not really like."

"Wow, you mean it, Mother?" Roscoe grinned, his tail wagging faster. "I can really go?"

"Of course. But you have to come back when you've made a final decision, all right?"

"Yeah sure! I mean...uh...yes, ma'am! But....I don't know how to get to his ranch."

"Don't worry, I do....unfortunately."

Roscoe kept repeating his mother's instructions in his head on how to get to Hank's ranch. He was so excited that he was going to visit. Wouldn't Uncle Hank be proud that one of his nephews wanted to be just like him!

He thought about going to see his siblings and brag that he was going to go off on an adventure (hee hee) but he decided that would be burning daylight and instead chose to just head on out of town. He had heard stories about the dogcatcher and he tried his best to stick to the alleys and dark places to avoid getting caught. He remembered when Uncle Hank had taken him and his siblings on garbage patrol. That was lots of fun! That is until the girls had went off and blabbed to Mother about getting fleas. Oh well.

Roscoe finally saw the sign that read "You Are Now Leaving Twitchell! Come Back And Visit!"

"Yeah, I MIGHT come back and visit," Roscoe told the sign as he went past it and headed out into the great wide open country.

The country was a lot bigger than Roscoe had ever dreamed. There were no noisy cars, no fences, no one bumping into you at every turn.....just dirt and grass and a big blue sky. Roscoe sniffed the air deeply. Ahh, so fresh. Wildflowers of different colors decorated the ditches that he walked along. A few bees buzzed around him as they gathered pollen. Yep, the country was already the best thing ever!

Roscoe was enjoying his time on the open range until the sky grew dark and he could no longer see where he was going. He hadn't realized he had been travelling for so long. He also didn't realize that his little paws were sore from walking. Roscoe looked up at the small twinkling stars. It was rare that he ever saw them, thanks to the town's streetlights. He only saw them when the electricity went out. There were millions of them and they were so beautiful out here.

The young pup sighed and curled up amongst the flowers in the ditch to take a nap. Hopefully it wouldn't be too much longer until he reached Uncle Hank's ranch.

All of a sudden, he heard a howl. Roscoe picked his head up and glanced around him in fright. What was that? He heard it again. The fur on the back of his neck stood up. Could it be....coyotes?

If it WERE coyotes, maybe he shouldn't stick around too long and find somewhere else to nap. He didn't want his mother to find out that he had become coyote chow before he ever reached his destination. It would break her heart and she would blame herself for sending him out here.

Oh, but his paws were hurting him more now that he had finally let them rest. Maybe if he just laid still and kept quiet, the coyotes wouldn't find him....he hoped.

THE NEXT MORNING

Dawn finally came and Roscoe didn't get eaten by coyotes, much to his relief. His paws felt much better and he decided to continue on his way. At last he reached some fences and his heart leaped. His mother had told him to look for fences and that would be the outer boundaries of the ranch. Excited, the pup crawled underneath the boards and start running across the pasture.

Up ahead he spotted some large, strange creatures eating the grass. He stopped short and studied them for a while, for he had never seen such things. One of them had a giant bell hanging from her neck and some had babies drinking milk from them. He assumed they must be either horses or cows, but he was unsure which was which. He just knew that both lived on the ranch and ate grass.

Being a curious puppy, Roscoe decided to ask them what they were. He cautiously stepped up towards the large creatures, who suddenly stopped eating and looked up to stare at him cautiously. The babies jumped up and ran a few yards away as if they had just seen a ghost. Roscoe thought that was odd that they should be scared of him. He was just a puppy after all.

"What do you want, little puppy?" one of the creatures asked him in a rude voice. "Are you one of those strays that likes to chase and torment us?"

"Huh? No, I'd never do that. I'm too small anyway."

"Yeah, I guess you are kinda puny. So what do you want?"

"I just wondered what you were."

"Excuse me?"

"Well, I've never been to the country before and wanted to know if you were a cow or a horse."

The creatures all looked at each other and much to Roscoe's surprise they started to laugh.

"He wants to know if we're cows or horses, Meredith!" said the one he had been talking to.

"I heard him, Frances, isn't that funny!"

Frances glared down at the puppy. "Now see here, runt, I'm a cow. And if you don't back off, the bull is going to get you."

"Bull?" Roscoe asked, gulping. He'd heard Uncle Hank talk about bulls before and they sounded mean.

"Yeah, and here's my advice. Go back to your little town home where you came from. The country is no place for a runt like you."

"It's no place for regular sized dogs either!" Meredith added. "You heard what Harriet did to that dog the other day that tried to take away her calf, didn't you?"

"Yeah, I did. Serves him right. He was always barking at us and ordering us around."

Roscoe wondered who they were talking about. "What dog?"

"Oh, this stupid mutt that calls himself....oh what was that stupid title he always introduced himself with?" Frances asked.

"Head of Ranch Security."

"Yeah, that's it. Looked a lot like you, little puppy. Hope he wasn't a relative."

The two stupid cows started laughing. Roscoe felt his body turn cold. Uncle Hank got hurt? By a friend of these two cows? How...how dare they! And they were laughing about it!

Without saying goodbye, Roscoe took off racing across the pasture in efforts to find where the house was to see if Uncle Hank was okay.

Poor Roscoe :( He's gonna be in for a shock. Sorry if this was boring :(