Brown Dog

by Jim Harrison

  That evening they ate the splendid chuck roast and Delmore hogged as much of the gravy as possible despite Gretchen warning him about his health. “Between health and gravy I’ll take gravy. I’m seventy-seven.”

  “I thought you were eighty-three,” she said.

  “Who gives a shit? What’s important is who is taking me to the new Planet of the Apes next week.”

  “I will,” Gretchen said with humility. “Those apes are sexy.”

  “So is Bruno,” Delmore said with a guffaw.

  Susi was being obnoxious eating her mashed potatoes with her hands and refusing to stop so B.D. took her out for a stroll. Susi rode on his shoulders and sang nonsense songs while she tapped on his head in rhythm. Bruno was on the lead and ran a small raccoon up a birch tree which put him in a frenzy.

  “Bruno, that raccoon could kick your ass in a minute.”

  Bruno seemed to understand and left the challenge behind. They walked out to the entry in the bright early summer evening only three weeks from the solstice which meant this far north it wouldn’t get really dark until ten, a great time to fish but it was lovely carrying his daughter on his shoulder to the music of tree frogs and birds near sleep, the odor from ferns and wild flowers and the musical sound of a whip-poor-will which as a child he was convinced was a ghost.

  He slid out of bed just before dawn seeing Gretchen’s bare butt and wondering if fishing were worth it if he could make love. He touched her butt and she swatted his hand away as if it were a mosquito; the answer. Susi was standing up in bed in her Peter Rabbit pajama suit so he waved and she waved back. He had left his clothes and tackle near the front door and made a speedy exit after noting Bruno on the kitchen counter with the remains of a pound of butter. About a hundred yards down the two-track toward the creek pool he heard the muted call of “Daddy” behind him. It was Susi with her watchdog Bruno beside her. “Shit,” he thought then decided to make do. As luck would have it a big snowshoe rabbit ran across the road and Bruno gave chase yelping. At the pool he hooked a fish pronto and handed Susi the rod. She looked up not knowing how to work the reel. She dropped the rod, grabbed the line, and dragged the fish by the line up into the grass and ferns. He unhooked the fish and she clasped it to her chest giving the head a kiss, a proper beginner’s attitude he thought. Off in a clearing he could see Bruno and Fred playing tug-of-war with the snowshoe rabbit. Fred of course was winning, twirling Bruno in circles but Bruno wouldn’t let go. Susi stared and said, “Peter Rabbit.” Gretchen met them halfway, concerned about the empty crib. Susi handed her the fish which she properly accepted as if it were crown jewels. B.D. was touched, his mind so clear he needed a drink.

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Brown Dog

  Also by Jim Harrison

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Contents

  BROWN DOG

  THE SEVEN-OUNCE MAN

  WESTWARD HO

  THE SUMMER HE DIDN'T DIE

  PART I

  PART II

  PART III

  BROWN DOG REDUX

  PART I

  PART II

  PART III

  HE DOG

  PART I

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  PART II

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  PART III

  Chapter 11

  Back Cover