Angus and Sadie (2 page)

“Good boy,” Mister said.

Me!
The big black-and-white puppy planted his rear legs on the back of another puppy and pushed, jumping to get to Mister's hand. The other puppy tumbled over sideways into a third, and that third puppy growled and nipped at its own paw, as if it were the paw that had attacked him. Other puppies rushed to join in.

But the big black-and-white puppy did not let himself get distracted. He took hold of Mister's hand with his teeth and pulled.
Me
.

Like all puppies, he had sharp, sharp teeth. As if he'd accidentally stuck his fingers into a box of needles, Mister jerked back his hand and flicked a finger at the wet black nose. “No!” he said, in a deep, stern voice.

The puppy closed its mouth, but he didn't back away. This time he butted his head up against the hand, instead of grabbing it.
Me
.

“You're a smart fellow, aren't you?” Mister asked, scratching the puppy behind the ears. “And big. How strong are you?” He picked the puppy up.

Yes, good
. The black-and-white puppy licked Mister under the chin.
Mine
.

Now Mister and Missus stood facing one another. Each held a puppy. The little white-and-sorrel puppy with the cast poked her nose up against Missus's neck and licked. It tickled, and Missus laughed. “This one,” she said. “She's sweet. Affectionate.”

“This one's a male, and bigger. And he's smart,” Mister said. He and the black-and-white puppy both stared right at Missus.

Missus stared right back at the black puppy. “How do you know he's smart?” She reached her free hand over for him to smell, and he snuffled at her palm, his tail wagging fast.

Mine, too. Nice
.

Missus scratched under his ear with one finger. “I don't care about bigger,” she said. “But stronger would matter.”

Mister looked at the little white-and-sorrel puppy, but she didn't notice him, not until he patted her on the head and rubbed one of her ears between his fingers, pulling it gently.

Oh—what? Nice
. She squirmed to get closer to Mister's big hand.

“That is the sorriest looking dog I've seen in a long time,” Mister said, and he laughed. “She must be the runt, and with that leg she's going to need special care.”

“In another two or three weeks she'll be as good as new. But yours, you could start training pretty soon, couldn't you?”

Mister asked the attendant, “How old are they?”

“Eleven weeks. You can start training dogs at about, oh, three, three-and-a-half months.”

“It seems so young,” Missus said. There was too much talking and not enough petting, so the little sorrel puppy wriggled in her arms, trying to squirm up closer to her chin and lick it. “Are they housebroken?”

“Pretty much,” the attendant said. “I meant you can train them to come, sit, and stay. You don't want a dog that's not trained,” he told them.

“But why are they here, being given away?” Missus asked, stroking the puppy's bony head to keep her quiet.

“Well,” the attendant answered. “Actually. A neighbor reported that they weren't being properly cared for. I mean, that leg was just neglected,” he said. “The puppies were being neglected.”

“Oh,” Missus said.

“Good thing you're here to help the animals out,” Mister said.

“Yes, I know,” the attendant agreed.

“So, which one do you want?” Mister asked Missus.

“Which one do you?”

Mister didn't set the black-and-white puppy back down among the others, and Missus kept the white-and-sorrel close against her chest.

“I don't know,” Mister said.

Take me. Take me
.

“I can't decide,” Missus said.

“We said only one,” Mister said.

Take me. Take me
.

“Although, if there were two, they could be friends,” Missus said. “Do they get along all right?” she asked the attendant.

“Of course they do. They're siblings, littermates,” the attendant said. “They've always been together.”

Me
.

Me
.

“We only need one dog,” Missus said.

“Just because we only need one doesn't mean we can't want two,” Mister said. “And it doesn't mean we can't have two, either.” He scratched with his fingers on the top of the black-and-white puppy's head.

Mine. Good
.

“It's not as if we don't have room for two on the farm,” Missus agreed, and she stroked the soft back of the white-and-sorrel puppy, all the way from her neck to the end of her tail.

Nice. Good. Yes
.

“You have a farm?” the attendant asked. “Then you're perfect for these dogs.”

So both puppies went home in the pickup truck with Mister and Missus, riding in a cardboard box behind the seat. It was strange to be in a box. They'd never been in a box before. They didn't know what to do. They didn't know what would happen, and the truck was so loud, it made them unhappy, uneasy. The little sorrel puppy climbed up on the big black-and-white one, and they both went to sleep.

By evening, they had been given their names. The black-and-white one was Angus, because he looked as if he might grow up to be as big and strong as a Black Angus bull. Angus was easy to name, but Mister and Missus disagreed about the little puppy. “Sorrel, for her color,” Missus suggested. They were all sitting together on the kitchen floor.

“Just look at the sorry, lopsided way she walks,” Mister said, and held out his fingers for the puppy to lick. “And the sorry way she doesn't even care what a sorry sight she is. We should call her Sorry.”

“That's a terrible name. You can't call her that. The cast is going to come off and then she'll be just fine, not a sorry specimen at all—not that I think she's sorry now. I think she's sweet. How about a flower? How about Daisy or Rosie?”

“But she's funny-looking—the way her ear is half-flopped down, and the splotches of color over her eyes, like some masked avenger. You can't name her after a flower. That would be a joke.”

“Sadie,” said Missus unexpectedly.

“What?”

“Sadie, like Sadie Hawkins, in the old comic strip. Sadie Hawkins Day is named after her, because she was so homely—not that I think you're funny-looking, not a bit—nobody in Dogpatch would ask her to marry him. So there was one day a year when, if she could catch a man, he had to marry her.”

Mister and the black-and-white puppy just stared at her, but the little sorrel puppy climbed up onto Missus's lap, to nuzzle up against her hands.

“Sadie's a good, old-fashioned name,” Missus concluded.

“Sadie,” Mister said, practicing it. “Sadie?” he asked, reaching his hand out to the little puppy.

Angus followed the hand.
Mine
.

The sorrel puppy stumbled toward Mister to reach his hand. He scratched her under the chin, and she licked him on the palm. “Sadie she is,” he said.

“Angus and Sadie,” Missus said. “That's settled. But now we'd better feed and walk them, so they have a chance to go to the bathroom and not have an accident during the night.”

Mister stood up. “What do you say to some supper, Angus? Sadie?”

Me! Me!

Me, too!

The puppies didn't know what supper was, but they tried to climb up Mister's legs. “That's right,” he said, and rubbed both of their heads.

Right!

Right!

“Do you think they're hungry?” Missus asked.

“They get fed three times a day while they're this little,” Mister answered, “so they must be.”

“It's lucky we got a big bag of puppy food.” Missus took three metal mixing bowls down from the shelf and walked over to the kitchen door. “Angus and Sadie!” she called.

Angus and Sadie!
they both answered, but neither left Mister's side.

“Let's go!” said Mister, moving across the kitchen.

Let's go!

Me first!

Missus poured brown crunchy bites into two metal bowls and set them down on the porch. She had already filled a third big bowl with water.

Food!

Let's go!

Angus went to one bowl and Sadie went to the other, but almost immediately Angus moved over to eat what Sadie had. He pushed his head into her bowl, and nudged her head aside.

Sadie pushed her head right back in. With their heads crowded together, they ate until all of the brown bits were gone. Then Angus went back to the other bowl. Sadie followed him and pushed her head in beside his, so she could eat, too.

Mister and Missus stood and watched this and laughed.

After they finished eating, both dogs stuck a paw and their noses into the water and lapped it up with their tongues.

“I hope they're going to get a little neater with their eating,” said Mister.

“I hope Sadie's getting enough,” said Missus.

Then Mister said, “Let's go!” and he walked down the porch steps. Missus picked Sadie up, carried her down the stairs, and set her carefully on the ground. Angus ran after them, but the floor disappeared out from under him, and he tumbled down all three steps.

As soon as he hit the ground, Angus got up, shook himself, and stared at those steps. He stepped up onto the first one, and that was easy. So he went up to the top again, and then—more carefully this time—came down, front paws first, rear paws next, thump; front paws, rear paws, thump; and a final thump onto the ground. Now he knew. He guessed those steps wouldn't fool him again.

“This way,” Missus said. “Let's go all the way around the house, out around the vegetable garden, and then down to the barn. They can start to learn where everything is.”

There was still some daylight left in the air, and also some light coming from the porch. The puppies trailed after Mister and Missus, their noses down on the wet, muddy ground and in the wet grass. They were smelling everything. Some smells they already recognized, the Mister smell and the Missus smell and the watery, grassy, dirty smell. But everything else was new, and some of it was strong. Angus ran back and forth, smelling, while Sadie hobbled back and forth after him. He stopped, crouched, and peed. That reminded Sadie, who did the same.

“Good dogs, good,” said Mister.

“Good Angus and Sadie,” said Missus. “Good dogs.”

Mine
.

Mine, too
.

They all walked together down a muddy path to a big, dark building with a big, dark doorway. “I'll get the light,” Mister said, and suddenly the building was bright inside.

“Should we leave it on for them?” Missus wondered. “The barn can be pretty dark at night.”

“They need to get used to it. They'll be fine. They have a blanket and water.”

With the light on, the puppies ran into the barn. But something moved and they stopped. The something was big and it made a loud noise when it moved, so they ran out again.

“It's all right.” Mister knelt down and held out his hand. “Come here, Angus. You, too, Sadie, everything's all right.” Angus and Sadie both came up to be petted. Then Sadie ran over to Missus to be petted, and Angus followed, to push Sadie out of the way.

“It's only Bethie and she's in her stall, with Annie.” Missus picked Angus up in her arms and carried him over to where the sounds came from. “Bethie, Annie, this is Angus,” she said to the big animals inside the dark box.