Robert Calder - The Dogs

Bauer took its head gently in his hands and stroked back to the matted ruff. Tears spilled from his eyes. "You came home. You're my good boy, my good boy. That's my dog, it's all right now. Everything is all right, you came back to me." He forced back a sob.

The dog whined anxiously and licked the tears from Bauer's cheeks. It made a little blurfj of a sound.

Bauer hugged the animal tightly and rubbed and petted it. Orph licked his ear and his hair. The dog's tail beat on the ground.

Bauer squeezed his eyes closed. "Oh God!" he said, clasping the dog.

He drew a shaky breath. Orph nibbled at his chin and whined.

"Yes, I love you too. I love you, Orph. You're my good dog. You're a funny puppy. Big puppy. Good dog. Pretty baby."

The dog rolled over and splayed its legs open. Bauer rubbed its broad, hard chest. Orph groaned and wriggled in euphoria and love.

"Good dog, good boy," Bauer repeated, massaging the animal.

Orph's tail pounded wildly. His mouth was open and his tongue hung out, the corners of his lips were drawn up in bliss.

Bauer heard a man call.

Orph, ravished with Him, was oblivious.

Bauer sat back from the dog. Orph wrestled himself up and sat next to Bauer, pressing against Bauer's side and licking his face.

Another muted voice. Orph licked Bauer's mouth. Bauer laid his hand on the dog's broad skull and rubbed it.

"What's that! What is it!" he said, snapping his eyes to the treeline.

The dog swiveled its head. It cocked its ears and frowned. A tentative rumble sounded in its chest.

"Good boy," Bauer said.

He slipped the.38 from its holster and placed the muzzle an inch from the base of Orph's skull.

"That's my good boy, my good boy," he choked. He fired.

Orph was flung forward. His front legs lay straight back beneath his chest and belly. His jaw rested on the ground. A tiny sliver of bone protruded from the bullet's exit hole. His eyes were open. He was perfectly still.

Bauer lowered the gun. He laid his hand between the dog's shoulders and he patted gently. "You're my good dog," he whispered, "my good dog."

His head sank toward his chest and he wept.

He was empty and silent when the first guardsman stepped from the trees with a rifle at port arms. Others followed in moments, a squad of a dozen young men led by a thin corporal with a moustache and long neat sideburns.

They approached Bauer, who was seated next to Orph, indecisively. They formed a circle around him. The corporal cleared his throat. "Who are you?

What happened here?"

Bauer uncoiled himself and stood up. "He was my dog," he said looking down at Orph.

The corporal screwed up his face. "Your dog?"

Bauer didn't answer.

"You shot him?"

Bauer nodded.

The corporal radioed a report over walkie-talkie down to an officer lower on the slope, who relayed it to Command. Bauer stared at the dog.

The corporal received instructions. "Potter," he said.

"Get that dog up on your shoulders. We'll switch off with it on the way down."

"No," Bauer said.

"What?"

"No. He stays up here. I want him to stay here."

"That's not possible," the corporal said. "Pick him up, Potter."

The pistol was hanging from Bauer's hand. He cocked and raised it and pointed it at the corporal's chest.

Several guardsmen lifted their rifles. "Put those down," the corporal ordered, not moving his eyes from Bauer's. "Come on, Mr. Bauer," he said evenly. "This is trouble. You don't want to do it."

"I'm going to bury my dog up here."

The pistol didn't waver.

"Can I use my radio?"

Bauer said nothing.

The corporal handled the walkie-talkie with care. "Uh, I have a problem up here," be said, staring at Bauer. "The guy Bauer is holding a cocked pistol pointblank at my chest. He says we're not bringing the dog down, he's going to bury it up here. I'd like instructions, please."

The answering voice was tinny. "Is he serious?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Do you believe he'd shoot?"

"I wouldn't want to gamble either way."

"Any chance you can disarm him?"

"Not before he could get off a shot."

"Hang on. I'll call Command."

After a short silence the voice returned. "Ask him if he'll surrender his weapon and submit peacefully to arrest if he's allowed to bury the animal."

The corporal raised his eyebrows at Bauer.

"Yes," Bauer said.

"He will."

"All right. Do it his way then. Can a chopper land there?"

The corporal gauged the terrain. "Not likely."

"Can you get down with lights in the dark?"

"No problem."

"Then start as soon as the dog is buried. Let me know when you jump off."

"Wilco. Over and out."

The pistol steady, Bauer said, "Take your men back into the trees. I'll join you when I'm done."

"Do you give me your word on that?"

"Yes."

"Okay. Try to be as fast as you can though, huh? Gene, leave Mr.

Bauer your entrenching tool."

The guardsmen withdrew.

Bauer holstered the revolver and dug out a grave. The stoney soil permitted only a shallow hole. Bauer eased Orph in and laid the carcass on its stomach, crossed the paws and positioned the head resting atop them. He closed Orph's eyes. He laid his hand on top of the big head and patted it, once.

He built a cairn of stones over the grave to ensure that nothing would dig it up.

He walked into the trees, to the guardsmen.

It was late at night when they reached the foot of the mountain. He was taken to the state police barracks outside Covington and interrogated, then brought to a judge where he was formally charged and ordered to appear before the bench in two days. He was released on his own recognizance. A trooper drove him home.

Dawn was breaking. He washed, shaved and changed into a clean shirt.

He got in his car and went back to Covington.

The lights were on in Elizabeth's house, though it was early. He'd expected to wait in the car.

She answered the door in slacks and a sweater, groomed, her hair brushed.

He said, "I found Orph."

"I know, I heard it on the news last night. I thought you might come."

She paused, searching his face. "I hoped you would."

"May I come in?" Bauer asked.

She stepped aside and held the door for him. "I'll make breakfast," she said. "There's coffee on."

Loki and the bitch-pup waited in the burrow until they were driven from it by thirst and hunger so great that punishment held no terror for them.

They called and whimpered in the bright sun, while the woods rustled around them, but no one answered and no one came. No one.

Loki found them water in the midafternoon. He tried to catch a frog.

He couldn't, the bitch-pup circled around and drove it back, then he pounced and caught it under has paws, bit, ripped off a leg and a piece of the soft body and gobbled it down. He seized the head while the bitch pup sank her teeth into its midsection and they tore it apart and ate it.

They slept curled together on a bed of leaves in a rock crevice that night.

Loki slept lightly. Sharp sounds snapped his eyes open and he lifted his head to growl.

The sun rose and they left the crevice and sat in the light and called again, and in a while, when no answer came, they set off to find something to eat.

THE END