by Mary Hiker
“Is this the little lady and hero dog I read about in the paper?”
Rocky said, “Yes sir it is. What do you think?”
“I think they’ll do just fine.” Ben gave me a wink.
Rocky said, “You’re both hired. We don’t have a lot of funds yet, but hope you will help out on a part time basis until we get things going.”
“Glad to.” Any kind of job was welcome at this point.
I said my good-byes to Ben and Princess and headed back toward the truck. Rocky caught up with me as I walked. A shock of brown hair fell over his hand as he rubbed his forehead. “I hope Ben didn’t scare you. Did he say anything crazy?”
“No, we mostly just played with the dogs.” I tried not to stare at his ruggedly handsome face or the way his muscular arms were tanned from working outdoors. I turned away and got Chevy and Ace into the back of the truck.
“Good. Ben is a little bit out there, but he’s harmless. Just don’t pay attention to any wild stuff he says.” Rocky gave me a little smile as Don and I jumped into the truck and waved good-bye to Ben.
As we drove out the dirt driveway, Don started chuckling. “You have a crush.”
“No way.” My focus was on training dogs, not on chasing guys.
“I’m a deputy, I know these things. You have a crush.” Don stated, as if it was a fact.
Maybe I stared a little too long.
Chapter 3
I drove to my new job at the future animal sanctuary early the next day. I smiled as I watched the morning sun burn off the thin fog as it hovered above the pastures. Rocky hadn’t arrived yet, so I took the opportunity to look around on my own. Specifically, I was curious as to what had happened up at the tree stand yesterday.
I hiked with a quick pace back up the hill with Chevy, to let him stretch his legs. He ran back and forth and smelled everything he could get his nose on. I did my best to follow the same route we did the previous morning and found the site within about fifteen minutes.
Nothing looked out of place, so I climbed up the makeshift ladder into the tree stand. I took a look around and it looked more like a kid’s tree house than a hunting stand. There was a comfortable chair and a broken footstool. Scattered across the floor were some flashlights, water bottles, bags of trail mix snacks, a small notebook, and a magazine about bird watching.
Chevy whined and paced at the bottom of the tree. I wondered if he was afraid I would fall or if he was jealous that he couldn’t climb into the tree stand with me. Probably both.
I looked over the edge of the floor. “It’s Okay, Chevy.”
He pawed at the tree.
I sat back in the chair and looked around. This tree stand was a bit higher up the tree than the typical hunting stand. From that height on the top of the hill, I saw a great view of the land below. I looked down on Ben’s property and two other neighboring properties.
I chuckled as I watched one of his neighbors from afar. A big guy gave a tiny lady a piggy back ride across their yard to his big black truck. After a couple kisses, they climbed in and took off down the road. I took another minute to take in the beauty of this land and enjoy the cool breeze and the sounds of birds chirping.
Maybe the guy that fell was a bird watcher after all.
I reached for the small notebook and flipped through the pages. There were some terrible drawings of a few birds. At least it looked like birds. It wasn’t the best art I’d ever seen, that’s for sure. The inside of the front cover was filled with scribbly notes. It looked like some kind of a poem, but it was tough to read. The handwriting was as bad as the artwork.
“Wwwwwee Wwweee,” Chevy’s whining went into full effect.
“Okay Chevy, I’m coming down.”
I shoved the notebook in my back pocket and climbed back down the wooden ladder. When I reached the bottom rung, Chevy acted like I had been gone for two years. He jumped on me as I sat on the ground beside him. I gave him a big hug and got lots of wet dog kisses in return. I always loved that about Chevy, he was always so happy to see me.
Now that I had climbed back down from the tree and out of harm’s way, Chevy returned to exploration. I sat and took in the scene, when I realized my dog had disappeared out of sight. I followed the jingle of his dog tags and found him upside down digging a hole behind some brush, about thirty yards from the tree stand.
“Chevy, they’ve got enough holes around here, I don’t think they need you to dig them more.”
Chevy kept on with doggy determination. He dug about eight inches when I heard his toenails scratching on wood. I brushed aside some of the dirt and revealed the top of a homemade box. I opened the lid, leaving the rest of the box in the hole. To my surprise, Chevy had dug up somebody’s food cache!
Just like Chevy to find food.
It was pretty cool. I had never seen a buried food cache before. This technically would have to be classified as a ‘wanna-be’ cache though, since my dog was able to find it and dig it up. I knelt down and looked into this little treasure chest. Most everything was in stored in waterproof containers placed inside the four foot square box. The construction was solid, made with 2x4’s and treated ply wood.
The bottom of the cache was packed tightly with water containers and dehydrated meals. There were some folded blue tarps and shelter making materials too. Lying on top were newspapers bunched up in a ball, a pair of powerful binoculars, jerky, a bunch of trail mix, energy drinks and a camera. I picked up the wad of newspaper and a wallet fell out and onto my lap.
The picture on the I.D. inside the wallet looked a lot like the fellow who fell out of the tree the day before. The driver’s license listed his name as Ivan Monitor from the state of Rhode Island. I put the I.D. in my pocket and packed everything back into the cache. At least the authorities would know who had died. I closed the lid as best I could and pushed the dirt back on top.
“Chevy, what a good boy you are for breaking into someone’s food stash! I think you just found the survival food cache of the dead man.” I gave him a dog cookie as a reward and he munched on it with delight. Chevy loved praise, no matter the reason. If I was happy, then he was happy.
As we returned to the bottom of the hill, Ben had his two dogs outside for their morning potty break. Chevy ran straight up to his new girlfriend, Princess, and licked her on the head. A big tan and white dog with shaggy hair sat on the grass and quietly watched Chevy’s lovesick antics.
Ben walked over to the old dog and said, “This is Bullfrog, king of the couch.”
I laughed. Old Ben really had a good sense of humor.
“How old is he?”
“Don’t know for sure, but I’ve had him for thirteen years now, so he’s older than that.”
I sat down on Ben’s front door steps and Bullfrog waddled up slowly to sniff me.
I held up a dog cookie I pulled from my jeans pocket and asked Ben, “Can I give him a treat?”
“Sure, just don’t give him any soft treats, they make him fart!”
Bullfrog looked up as we laughed.
“I think the treat won him over,” I grinned as he tried to climb on my lap.
Ben marveled, “You are a dog magnet! How does it feel to have a slobbery sixty-five pounder trying to sit on your lap?”
I remembered how the wallet from the hidden box fell into my lap, “Hey Ben, I found a food cache up on the hill.”
I figured that by now he knew about the body found up there yesterday. He frowned and stepped up the stairs past me into the mobile home.
A couple minutes later, Ben emerged with one of those stealth cameras that strap onto a tree trunk. They are motion sensitive and sometimes hunters set them out to take pictures of animals as they walk by an area, day or night. But I knew Ben wasn’t the hunting type. He asked me to hang the motion camera and aim it toward the food cache.
“What time is it?” Ben asked.
“About eight o’clock.”
“Go now and hurry back.”
He’s the b
oss.
“Okay.”
I left Chevy at the mobile home, so he wouldn’t have the chance to dig up the survival cache again. Ben took all the dogs inside for treats while I headed to the cache spot. It didn’t take me long to hike back up the hill into the woods and discreetly hang the motion camera. I was done in about twenty-five minutes.
As I started back down the hill toward the house for the second time this morning, I heard a dog barking non-stop. It was an agitated and protective sounding bark, which set off an alarm in my head. My legs moved faster until I found myself jogging down the hill. As I made it to the pasture behind the house, I saw Bullfrog as he stood outside all by himself, barking away.
I broke into a full blown run, through the pasture and around the home to the front yard. The door to the mobile home was flung wide open and swinging in the breeze. I called out for Ben and got no answer. I yelled for Chevy and Princess, and they were nowhere to be found. I jumped up the steps and looked inside the mobile home and saw no one.
I fumbled with my cell phone and called Rocky.
“Good morning.” Rocky sounded cheerful.
“It’s Avery, I’m at Ben’s place.”
“You’re an early bird. You don’t need to show up before nine. I’m coming up the road now.”
“Rocky,” I interrupted him, “Bullfrog is running loose and I can’t find Ben. Chevy and Princess are gone too!” The panic rose as I spoke.
“I’ll be there in thirty seconds.” He made it in about fifteen.
Rocky burst through the front door of the house and ran from room to room. He flew back out and jumped on one of the four wheelers parked in the shade under one of the maple trees. “I’m going to look out by the old moonshine shed,” he yelled as he sped off across the pasture.
Bullfrog alternated between barking, whining and moaning. It finally registered with me that the old dog stood right next to one of the huge holes on the edge of the yard. I got a sick feeling in my stomach and I bolted over to where the old dog stood.
I looked over the edge of the hole and saw Ben’s body on the bottom, lying face down.
=+=+=+
I got on my butt and slid down the dirt bank to the bottom of the hole, then crawled over to Ben. My first responder training kicked in as I looked for any signs of life in my new friend. He was unconscious but breathing.
Slightly relieved, I called 911 for an ambulance.
Rocky called back from the empty moonshine shed. I told him we were in the hole near Bullfrog, and asked him to go out to the road and direct the emergency team. Bullfrog stood watch over the hole and barked the entire fifteen minutes it took for help to come.
The paramedics that arrived were skilled and I climbed out of the hole to give them room to work. They lifted Ben out on a backboard and placed him on a stretcher in the ambulance. Rocky insisted on riding with Ben for the trip to the emergency room. I was just thankful that my buddy still had a fighting chance at life.
As Rocky headed for the ambulance, I told him, “I’ll look for the dogs.”
He pulled a set of keys out of his pocket and handed them to me. “Here are the keys to the house and the ATV. Do whatever you need to do.”
He jumped in the front passenger seat of the ambulance without asking permission.
I went to the back of the ambulance and told the paramedic, “If he gains consciousness, make sure he knows that I’m looking after his dogs. My name is Avery”
The paramedic promised to forward my message. I huddled with Bullfrog as the ambulance rolled out of the drive and toward the city. It was a good thirty minute drive to the nearest hospital.
I hugged the dog’s big neck and said a little prayer that Ben would survive. The fact that the door to the mobile home was left wide open had me more than a little concerned. I hoped that Chevy and Princess would survive whatever happened to them too.
Chapter 4
I wasn’t familiar with the full layout of this property, and needed help finding Chevy and Princess. My first choice for any type of search was Deputy Don. We had been on several search and rescue missions together and he was in law enforcement. More importantly for this emergency, he loved dogs almost as much as I did.
“How’s Ben doing?” Don said over the phone, after I had given him the details.
“I don’t know. Just hope he pulls through. His big dog is beside himself.”
“’I’m coming over to help you find Chevy.” Don just promoted himself to best friend status. I didn’t even have to ask him to help me search.
“Are you off work today?”
“I am now.” Don was in rescue mode.
“I’ll start to look, call me when you get here. And, thanks.” I hung up and got to work.
I took Bullfrog back in the house and offered him a dog treat. He wouldn’t eat it, so I laid it on his dog bed and gave him another big hug. I wondered if he witnessed Ben’s fall down the hole.
“Bullfrog, you stay here and watch the house, I’m going to go find little Princess, Okay?” I often talked to dogs like they were people.
I shut the door behind me and ran across the property calling out their names. Each hole was checked to make sure they hadn’t fallen like Ben. I continued on at full speed, my adrenaline carrying me along. My sweat mixed with the dust I kicked up as I searched from hole to hole. I didn’t feel my feet moving under me, they just carried me across the land.
My search route continued to the back corner of the yard near the woods, the soft buzzing sound of bees caused me to stop and check my surroundings. There were no hives in my direct line of sight, but some slight movement ten feet in front of me gave away the location of a huge ground wasp nest hidden by the natural ground cover. As I slowly backed off in an attempt to stay sting-free, my cell phone rang.
“Avery, I’m down the road about a mile.” Don was on the line. “Chevy was out in the middle of the road, pacing. I stopped but he wouldn’t get in my truck and ran into the woods.”
“Is Princess with him?” I asked.
“No.”
I turned and bolted toward the drive as I hung up the phone. My foot hit the gas so hard that the truck’s tires spun as I sped down the drive. I raced down the country road toward Don, and noticed a big black monster truck blocking the roadway. It looked like the one I saw earlier at the neighbor’s house.
I barely noticed the small group of people in the roadway and called out for Chevy before I even got out of my truck. Chevy ran out of the woods, his belly and sides covered in mud and briars. His tongue hung out of the side of his mouth and he was panting heavily. My dog raced up to me and knocked into my legs, covering the bottom of my jeans with mud. He looked straight into my eyes and gave an exhausted bark, then turned around and ran back into the thick undergrowth. Obviously, he wanted me to follow him. Good thing I was wearing old clothes and my hiking boots.
I jumped over the narrow ditch and followed Chevy through the woods. The briars left red bloody stripes down my arms as we made our way through the prickly bushes. The big guy from the monster truck followed in behind me. His large frame was slowed by the briars, so he beat them away with his homemade machete. He looked like a giant weed-eater. The big guy’s black t-shirt was completely soaked with sweat, and I hoped he wouldn’t end up with a heart attack. The guy’s breathing was so loud that I almost missed the sound of a dog whimpering.
When I heard the soft noise, I fully understood why Chevy was so frantic. His little friend was in trouble. I kept up with my dog as best I could through the tangled mess, but it was slow going. It took at least ten minutes to force our way through the briar wall before we found Princess in a clearing. The poor thing was completely stuck in a briar bush. Her long hair was tangled around the thorny branches and she was caked in mud.
The little dog didn’t move, but when she saw us her whimpers gave way to a couple of energetic barks. Chevy plopped down in the mud next to her, panting heavily. His work was done.
The large guy
eventually reached us and used his machete in a softer manner to free Ben’s dog from nature’s trap. Princess seemed very calm, even though there was a strange guy chopping briars with a machete right next to her.
“Hey Princess, Big T. is here. You’re okay now,” the over-size man said as he focused on the job in front of him. I guess he wasn’t a stranger to her after all.
“You know Princess?” I was surprised.
“We’ve been neighbors for a while now. I know all my neighbors. By the way, I’m Big T.” He turned to me and stuck out a hand that was as oversized as he was.
He took out his pocket knife and cut the last few briars out of Princess’s fur. Big T. picked her up and placed her in my arms as a big smile lit up his round face. As I carried Princess back out toward the road, I tried to hold her the same way Ben did so she would be comfortable.
“From all the tracks in this mud, it looks like your dog paced in circles around her for a long time.“ Big T. continued, “He saved Princess’s life. There’s no way she would have freed herself.”
As we emerged from the woods as a muddy group, a young lady wearing cowboy boots and tight jeans shorts flew into Big T.’s arms. Her long brown hair fell across her face as she ran to him. She was so small and he was so big that she almost disappeared when he hugged her. He picked her up with one arm and said, “Give Big T. some sugar.” She giggled and gave him a kiss.
Big T. set her back down again and, he said with pride, “This is my girl, Misty.” He pulled her close to him as he gave Don a long look. “It can be tough having such a beautiful woman. More guys to protect her from.”
Big T. broke out in a big laugh, but even so, I noticed Don made sure not to look at Big T.’s girl after that. I chuckled and was glad the big guy was on our side.
“Say thanks to Big T. for helping us,” I said to the dogs, as I loaded them in the truck for the ride back to Ben’s place.