Рита Браун: Fox Tracks

Sister was confused. “I haven’t bred anyone.”

“A stray crawled into the hound trailer, the side door was open, and she had four puppies in that deep straw. I put out food and water for her.”

“Great day.” Sister stood, then moved toward the ladder up to the hayloft. “And I was just talking about my mother, Sister Teresa to all abandoned animals.”

“Do you have an empty stall?” asked Gray. “I think we should move her into the barn and put down an old blanket.” He looked up as Sister threw down a plastic garbage bag from a storage area in the loft. It was filled with blankets in need of repair.

“Bombs away.” She then said, “Tootie, pick out the best blanket from the bag and get that back stall ready. I’ll go help bring mom and the puppies in.”

Walking through the snow with Gray, heads down, Sister asked, “Is she mean?”

Gray shielded his eyes. “I don’t think so, but we haven’t handled her puppies yet.”

The aluminum trailer afforded protection from the storm. The straw helped with the cold, but the barn would be better.

Sister knelt to pet the dog’s head, a mix, but some boxer was in there. “What a good girl you are. Four beautiful puppies.”

The exhausted dog wagged her tail.

“Why don’t you carry the puppies and I’ll carry her?” said Gray. “She’s tired and I don’t know if she’ll follow us, although she’ll probably follow her babies.”

“Yeah, but we don’t want to expose them to the storm. Let me run into the kennel. I’ve got some old towels there. We can wrap the puppies and I’ll carry them inside my coat.” Sister left and was back in ten minutes because the slow going just ate up time.

Gray gently lifted the mother up and she offered no resistance as Sister carried the puppies in a towel.

Together they made their way back to the barn, carefully depositing their burdens in the now fixed-up stall. Tootie put a water bucket in there with a plate of kibble. She added more wood shavings to the stall floor so they were deep. Two blankets had been arranged in the corner. Gray laid the mother down as Sister placed the puppies at her side.

Tootie knelt down to stroke her head. “She needs a name.”

“We’ll think of one.” Gray smiled. “She should be fine in here. How smart of her to find the hound trailer.”

“I bet she’s been at the edge of this farm for a while, but clever enough for us not to find her,” Sister remarked.

Back in the kitchen, they watched the Weather Channel, which promised the storm would abate in early evening.

Gray called his brother. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow and we’ll fetch your car,” said Gray. “The Land Cruiser can go through anything, even this snow.”

“Sounds good to me,” said Sam. “Tariq’s car is there, too. I know my old Outlander can make it, but I don’t think his car has four-wheel drive. Might. There was so much going on I didn’t pay attention.”

“I can imagine,” Gray replied. “As I recall he drives an old Saab. Front-wheel drive. He might make it out if he stays in our tracks. Well, the first thing is, this storm has to stop. The big roads will get plowed out first, so we might have a hell of a time getting back to Old Paradise.”

“Isn’t going to be that easy getting here to the house either.”

“No problem, Brother. You’re going to drive the old tractor down the drive and cut big deep tracks for me. I told you we should buy a snow plow.”

“I don’t have enough to pay for my half. Besides, Gray, how often do we get a snow like this?”

“Yeah, yeah. First thing tomorrow morning, your ass better be in that tractor seat.” Gray laughed, then hung up.

The quiet day restored their energy. Being cut off lets the mind go free and the body repair. Even the nighttime chores were fun, as the snows turned deep blue with the fading light.

All was well, even for a stray dog and her four newborn puppies.

The humans sat in the den after supper, Tootie on her laptop, Sister doing needlepoint, and Gray rereading Schumpeter. Gray closed the book for a moment, reached over on the coffee table, and slipped a cigarette out of the pack.

He read the fine print on the cigarette. “Camel.”

“I looked everywhere for soft packs and those were the only ones I could find.”

Tootie looked up from her research on equine veterinary history. “We had to buy a carton because Sister knew we’d destroy some packs.”

“Why is that?” Gray lit the unfiltered Camel, surprised at how it tasted. It had been decades since he’d smoked a Camel.

Wasn’t bad.

“We had to carefully unglue each pack, then turn it inside out so it would be white.”

“Janie!” He laughed. “Wouldn’t it have been easier to fold white paper?” He picked up the pack. “How many packs did you ruin before you got it right?”

“Eight,” Sister replied.

“We wanted to have more to give out, but it was too hard,” Tootie said. “But the American Smokes graphic looks really good.”

He looked up at the pack again. “Does.” Took a few more puffs. “Damn, these burn fast.”

“Less tobacco than the old days,” said Sister. “All the popular and discount brands are cheating on content.”

Snubbing out the cigarette, Gray blew smoke from his nostrils. “Pisses me off.”

“Pisses me off when you smoke in the house,” Golly complained from the desk.

“What are you reading on your computer? You’ve been as quiet as a mouse,” Sister asked Tootie.

“There are no mice in this house,” Golly grandly announced. “I patrol the place. I am a first-class mouser.”

“Smoking opium,” Raleigh, a snoot full of tobacco smoke, said.

“I’m reading history,” said Tootie. “The first vet school in England was established in 1791. We didn’t have one in our country until 1879 and we didn’t have a four-year program until 1903. Iowa State both times.”

“So who treated horses?” Gray was puzzled.

“Blacksmiths,” Tootie answered.

“That explains it.” Gray drummed his fingers on the arm of the sofa.

Sister looked up from her needlepoint. “Explains what, sugar?”

“Blacksmiths still think they can treat horses. And they never seem to get along with vets.”

“Some of that, to be sure.” Sister returned to her task. “My favorite is the new horse owner who had just read an explanation of some medical condition or hoof problem. They then tell the vet or the blacksmith what to do, based on their research.” She looked at Tootie. “The Internet really creates havoc. Everyone is an instant expert.”

“That’s a fact.” Tootie smiled.

“Then again, think how much you learned about tobacco and taxes from the Internet,” Gray added sensibly to the conversation.

Sister dropped her hands in her lap. “Up in smoke.”

“Smoke gets in your eyes,” Gray fired back.

“Smoke and mirrors,” Tootie chimed in.

“Holy smoke,” Raleigh said, but they didn’t get it.

“We’d better get back out into the world tomorrow.” Sister laughed. “We’re getting loopy.”

CHAPTER 34

Gray drove slowly through the snow, heading out toward Old Paradise with his brother, Tootie, and Tariq in the car. “Plowing is done by independent contractors for the most part.”

The Land Cruiser could go through most anything, so he gladly played taxi.

“Remember thirty years ago, something like that, when we had that odd snowstorm in October?” Sam said from the backseat. “So many branches fell down because leaves hadn’t fallen yet.”

“What about the Easter blizzard in, um, 1969?” Gray recalled.

“I wasn’t born yet.” Tootie teased them.