Angus and Sadie (12 page)

“What is it?” Missus asked.

Mister said, “Something in the garden. Raccoons? I can't see, and I can't hear a thing with all this noise the dogs are making.”

“I'll get the flashlight,” Missus said.

Now the dogs could see two—no, four—raccoons at the back of the garden. The four raccoons didn't run away the way the solitary raccoon had. All four turned to look at Angus, and all four showed their sharp teeth, snarling.

Angus wasn't afraid. He was bigger than any two of them put together. He barked and charged.

Sadie
was
afraid. She remembered the skunk, and besides, she didn't like the gleaming white look of those teeth. She stood where she was and barked.

Finally, when Angus was almost close enough to grab a leg in his teeth, the raccoons turned and shambled away, the way raccoons move when they move fast.
That's right! And don't even think about coming back!
Angus told them.

By now, Mister and Missus had come out to the garden. On the ground right in front of them was something—something bright, like daylight, like sunlight, but small like a rock, and flat like a puddle, and it slid over the ground like a snake.

Sadie forgot about raccoons. She was busy watching the light.

She watched it flow over the grass in front of Mister and Missus, and then she watched it bump up and down over the dirt in the garden. It tried to climb up the tomato stalks and it tried to hide in the leaves around the pumpkin vines. It moved all over everything, like a moth, and then it moved back and forth and in circles on the ground near Mister and Missus.

Of course Sadie followed it. She put her nose out at it, put her nose right into it, to smell what it was, but it smelled of the grass and the dirt, the tomato stalks and the pumpkin leaves. It had no smell of its own. She tried to get close to it, but it slipped away. So she chased it, moving right along with it, sometimes stepping on it, sometimes backing away, turning and turning. It moved around as if it was trying to get away, but also as if it might want to chase her back. It was just like one of the moths from the summer, only much bigger and not flying in the air.

Sadie didn't try to catch it, any more than she had tried to catch the moth. What would be the point of catching it? The point was being right there with it, right behind, right beside, right ahead of. It was a game of With, not Catch.

“What is she doing?” Mister asked. Missus was laughing, now, and he started laughing, too. “I mean, it's only a flashlight. What does she
think
it is?”

“It's what I told you this summer, she's dancing. Look at her.”

The bright thing started moving faster, in a circle. Sadie moved faster, too, keeping up. It moved back and forth, then around, and Sadie moved back and forth and turned around, too. She jumped up and landed, jumped and turned and landed.

Mister and Missus were laughing and laughing.

“Dancing it is,” Mister said. “You're something else, Sadie.”

Yes!

“What about you, Angus?” Mister asked. “Don't you want to dance? No, you wouldn't. You know that dogs don't dance.”

Yes. I know
. But it was exciting to watch Sadie, and Angus barked a couple of times from the excitement of Sadie dancing and Mister and Missus laughing.

After a while Missus said, “Let's get back to bed,” and the puddle of light went away, leaving them all in sudden darkness.

“Good work keeping those raccoons out, Angus,” Mister said. “Good work dancing, Sadie.”

Mister and Missus returned to the house, and Angus and Sadie returned to their stall. They curled up close to each other for warmth, and Angus said,
I can learn everything. Teach me how to dance
.

You just—I just—do it. I don't know how to teach something
.

That's right
, Angus said.
You don't. Oh well. It's lucky I do, so I can teach you all the things I know
.

It was cold the next morning. A thin layer of ice lay on top of the dogs' water bowl, but sunlight soon warmed the air. After morning training and chores, Mister drove the tractor out of the barn, and then stopped it and climbed down while it was still running. He called Angus. “What do you say we check on the sheep?”

Angus came to sit in front of Mister. He watched Mister's face and waited to find out what Mister wanted him to do.

“You, too, dancing dog,” Mister said. “Sadie, Come!”

Sadie came. She sat beside Angus, and they both watched Mister's face. Sadie's tail wagged back and forth across the ground.

“Get in, Angus. You, too, Sadie.” Mister held the door open. Angus jumped up into the cab, but Sadie didn't move.

Come on
, said Angus.
Don't keep Mister waiting
.

“Sadie, Come!” Mister said.

But—but it's the tractor
.

Mister's voice warned. “Sadie? Come!”

Angus said,
When I'm here it's safe
.

Mister's voice got deep. “Sadie! Come!”

Sadie had to obey, and she did. She came slowly, slowly, close to the tractor, climbed slowly up and found herself in the cab. The tractor smelled terrible inside. Then Mister climbed in, too, and shut the door.

Sadie's ears ached with the grinding roar of the motor. Her bones rattled. Even standing still that tractor shook. And then it started moving.

Sadie crowded up beside Angus. She was shaking, and the tractor was shaking, too.

The tractor not only shook, but also bounced as it went along the dirt road, traveling alongside the fields on its way up to the pastures. Sadie bounced into Angus, and he bounced back into her, and they both bounced into Mister. Then Sadie stopped noticing the horrible noises and the horrible smells. Instead, she noticed the bouncing.

Bounce! Bounce!

It's not a game, Sadie. We have work to do
.

Look out! Here I bounce!

When the tractor halted, they were in a grassy pasture with big boulders. Mister climbed down. Angus and Sadie jumped down after him. “Angus, Sit! Stay!” said Mister. Angus sat.

“Sadie, Sit!” Mister said, but Sadie smelled rocks and sheep and soil, woods and grass and sunshine. The air came so cold and fresh into her mouth, she wanted to run in big circles. So she did. She ran in one big circle, and then another, and had started on a third when she saw the sheep. And stopped dead. She got her sights on one sheep, eyeing it. That sheep knew better than to try to get away from her.

Then Mister called her. “Sadie, Come!”

Without hesitation, Sadie rose and went to him.

“Good dog. Now Angus, Heel! Sadie, Come!”

Stay with me. Do what I do. Pay attention
.

The three of them approached the flock of sheep, Mister leading, Angus just behind Mister's left foot and sticking close. Sadie stayed a little way behind Angus. As they got closer, the sheep looked up, but they didn't see anything to worry about so they went right back to grazing on the rich fall grass. Coming close to the sheep, Sadie had to stop. She crouched low and flat again, eyeing two of them, but Mister said, “Sadie, Come!” and she got up, reluctantly, to obey.

Sheep were scattered all over the pasture, in groups. Sadie even saw a pair off behind a big rock, their heads close to the ground.

Mister went in the other direction with Angus at his heels and Sadie behind them. “That's eight,” Mister said, “ten, eleven …”

What is he doing?

Checking on the sheep. What he said
.

What are we doing?

I'm heeling
.

Sadie followed along, with the air sweet in her mouth and the soft, confused voices of the sheep in her ears.

“Sixteen,” Mister said, “seventeen, eighteen,” as he approached another group of sheep. They backed away from him. “Sadie,” he said, in a warning voice, “Come!” How did he know that she was about to drop down and get an eye on those sheep?

Then Mister was finished, and he repeated, “Angus, Heel!” when he turned to go back to the tractor. “Sadie, Come!”

He didn't check those other ones. Why didn't he check them?
Sadie asked.

What other ones? Where are you going?

They're over behind—

Wait. I have to heel first. Follow me, Sadie
.

Sadie followed. After Angus had heeled obediently all the way back to the tractor, he barked.

“What is it?” Mister asked.

Angus turned toward the rocks.
This way?

That's right, I saw—

Angus barked twice, sharply, and ran to the rocks.

When Angus—followed by Sadie, who was followed by Mister—came around the boulder and saw them, the two sheep raised their heads to see what was happening. Sadie dropped down and eyed them, so they wouldn't run away.

“Angus, Sit!” Mister said. “That's nineteen and twenty. Good for you, Angus. Clever dog. That's all of them.”

Clever me, too
, Sadie said.

You didn't bark
, Angus explained.

At dinner time, Mister told Missus about it. “I'd have wasted all morning looking for those other two if he hadn't found them for me. He's a natural, I keep telling you.”

“Yes, you do,” Missus agreed.

“I have to look up the requirements, but I'd like to try him in an obedience class competition. Maybe in the spring? If we work hard all winter.”

“What about Sadie?” Missus asked.

“She's going to take a lot longer to get well-trained. But she has her own special talent, don't you? Dancing Dog, that's you, Sadie. The only dancing dog in the world, maybe. But you, Angus, have some work ahead of you. How do you feel about hard work?”

Angus was half asleep so he just wagged his tail. Thump, thump, his tail slapped against the floor.

I can work hard
, Sadie said.
I think I can. Do you think I can? Because I found the sheep, too, didn't I?

It's not the same if you don't bark
, Angus explained patiently.

T
he days grew shorter, and colder, too. Leaves were blown off the trees by winds that whistled at the windows and doors of the farmhouse, and blew cold into the barn, especially at night. Missus and Sadie emptied the garden of everything good, and then Mister used the rototiller to turn the soil, plowing under all the stalks and leaves that remained, so they would rot and enrich the soil for next year's garden.

When the garden had been emptied and the air had become bitter cold, Missus worked on her quilt, sitting in her chair in the living room. Sadie stayed with her to help. Unless there was a rainstorm, Angus and Mister went out, sometimes to plow the fields, sometimes to burn the piles of brush they had gathered, sometimes to check the fences.

One sunny, cold day, Missus and Sadie gave Mister and Angus a ride in the truck up to the summer sheep pasture. Mister and Angus got out to find the sheep and bring them all back to the pasture they had left in the spring. “Sheep want a more protected pasture in fall,” Mister explained to Angus. “Fall weather can get rough.” For that job, Angus had to be on the leash.