Buck Vs. the Bulldog Ants

by David Kersey

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

  Today is a new day, my blank page, though I am handicapped since I still cannot hold a pencil. Nevertheless, each and every day will not end as it began for I will it to be that way. It’s not that ordinariness is a bad thing, I just prefer extraordinary. However, I do start each day the same way:

  I will dream of something new,

  I will smile at someone who

  paints the sky more blue,

  and say and say again, I love you.

  I repeat that mantra in the mornings for I am truly thankful and happy, though I do bear the scars of days less joyful, like when I got my brains almost knocked out. I try to greet each new day with the promise of it granting me a surprise gift. For if I don’t grab for the surprises each day brings I will leave the day empty handed, and to me, that’s not good.

  I could be like other dogs who choose to lay around all day but that’s just not me. I want to move and it’s probably because I am so very impatient.

  Cassie had not yet arisen which is most often the case. I spend the early morning moments sitting on the asphalt of the car park, alone, and wait for her to join me. Waiting helps develop patience, but I become impatient waiting for patience. It’s a constant struggle.

  “Good morning, Buck, did you sleep well?”

  “Yes Cassie, I did, and did you?”

  “Like a baby. Are you ready to run?”

  Cassie and I, after we stretch out our tangled, mashed together muscles that the night brings, start each day with a leisurely run, slow enough that we can talk with each other, but fast enough to make our muscles happy.

  “Let’s stop at the meadow and sit for a few minutes, Cassie, I need to tell you something.”

  “John wants me to meet him on the front porch at some point today. He only wants me there for some odd reason. That is not like him since he knows we are a team. But last night he told me to tell you that it’s for a good reason and for you not to feel left out.”

  “Wonder what it’s about, Buck?”

  “I don’t have the slightest idea. That’s all he told me. I wouldn’t worry about it if I were you. Are you?”

  “No, I guess not. But if he brings in a female Golden Retriever I would worry…..a lot.”

  “Not gonna happen. He knows I love you. I’ll come find you as soon as the meeting is over and fill you in. I’m sure it’s not about much.”

  It was mid-morning when we returned to the house. Cassie entered the house through her cat door and I waited for John on the front porch as he had instructed me to do. “Good morning, old boy.” John sat at one of the rockers and I jumped onto one of the others. We both stared out for a bit, which was the norm. “Buck, I know you can understand much of what I say to you,” he finally said. “I still don’t know how you do it, that is, not only understand me but also communicate with some of the animals. Word has gotten out, Buck, and maybe it’s time for you to hone and expand those skills. I’ve given it some thought and think it’s a good idea.

  In a little while I will introduce you to a woman named Marlene. She is on her way here and coming from quite far, eastern Virginia, because she wants to meet you. She is going to be spending some time with you. Marlene is a member of a team of specialists that train canines for various purposes, and once she was informed of your abilities, her superiors dispatched her to train you until it is determined if certain of their objectives can be obtained. If at any time you become uncomfortable, or if she asks you to do something that is in your opinion wrong for you, I will know it because I will be closely watching. Yet, this is an opportunity, Buck, for you and possibly others to take a leap into the unknown and come out much better for it.” John then rose out of his chair and put his hands around my snout, as was his custom, and which I loved, and said, “I love you old boy.”

  It wasn’t long before a white Ford Taurus arrived at the car park. I was nervous. John’s words were scary and somewhat perplexing, but seeing the car upset my stomach, and when I get to a certain level of discomfort, I start to smell myself. It’s what dogs do. It’s what causes fights amongst us canines and also changes the chemistry of my thoughts, from placidness to panic in a fraction of a moment. Like the instant you realize an oncoming car is in your lane. I was tense, and the need to relieve myself was more urgent than expanding my horizons at the moment. The thought occurred to me that perhaps there is an upper limit to reaching out for something new. Comfort zone stuff that may go hand in hand with impatience.

  Marlene, who I suppose is nearing fifty years old, blonde, sparkling eyes, of average build but well proportioned, sporting camel cargo slacks and a long sleeved white shirt, with a name badge suspended from a lanyard, stepped out of the car and stretched.

  John and I approached the car and the lady. The thought occurred to me that John may be as nervous as I was. John said hello and received the same from her. He said “I’m John and this is Buck”. “I’m Marlene, glad to meet you both.” She knelt to look me in the eye. She smiled and held out her hand and said, “Hello Buck.” I could smell that she had been drinking a lot of coffee.

  Extending my paw was old hat to me. After all, I had been taught patty cake when I was young by Beverly, who was John’s former wife and who unfortunately and sadly died many years ago in a car accident. So I raised my paw and laid it in her hand. Easy maneuver, give me something more challenging, I thought. So I barked a tiny bit and moved my paw up and down in the fashion I’d seen humans do. I wanted to make a good first impression, but thought I’d squelch the temptation to show her patty cake. She would learn soon enough.

  “My goodness, John, it’s like he’s almost human!” I knew she was placating me by using an icebreaker but not one of my nerves relaxed. In fact, I didn’t particularly like it that she directed her platitude towards John rather than me. Relax, Buck, I instructed myself, but the self-talk was immediately sucked into outer space.

  Wait until you see my whole bag of tricks, I thought. You see, Golden Retrievers are smart, as are many other breeds, not just mine. On average, a canine can learn 165 human words. I would venture to say that I understood more than two thousand words, though math is not my strong suit, so I may be embellishing that. I understood “loquacious”, “sophomoric”, “ubiquity”, and many other words that were completely useless to me. Even words like “spoon” were useless to me since I couldn’t ever imagine using one since my paws were adapted for more earthy functions, and that’s also why I can’t hold a pencil.

  I know I’m sounding a little braggadocios. Ha, I do know some foreign terms too. And that really is not the real me at all but the thought of a woman in John’s presence put me on the defensive. I had not seen him with a female, other than putting his arm around Mozetta, the cook, since Beverly died, and Bev was the love of my life. So in Marlene’s presence I was being a smarty pants dog because I was jealous. Plain and simple. I considered peeing on her shoe but then knew my first impression would be tainted by a considerable amount. How peaceful my day had started and now turned suddenly about faced, like a soldier at attention is commanded to do.

  John said, “He’s full or surprises Marlene. His vision is not totally what it used to be but I think you’ll see he may be able to compensate in other ways.”

  That’s true. I couldn’t see like I used to because I was kicked in the head by a horse last year. That happened while we were fighting the ants. Nearly died, and for sure lost my vision almost totally in the first few days following the accident. Gradually it returned to I’d say eighty percent normal, maybe a little more. Hard to say, that borders on being a math problem, you know. I can see what I need to see, like the meadow, my animal pals, and my beloved Cassie who is my life’s companion. I could see this woman’s name badge, and although I can speak to animals, I can’t read, but learning to read is in my bucket list.

  Marlene, still squatted to my level, said, “Buck, point to John.” Now we’re getting somewhere, I thought. So I l
ooked at John, who was grinning ear to ear, and rose my leg in his direction. I fought the temptation to act like I was shooting him with a pistol, then blow on the barrel, which performance I’d seen on television. I think it was Maverick but it could have been Hoss Cartwright that I’d seen do that, but that’s immaterial. John and I do watch old school Westerns quite often. I love Bonanza.

  “Point to my nose.” I did, and when I perceived she was becoming impressed with my adroitness, I softened a very slight tad. She was smiling too and it reminded me of my love for Beverly. The gremlins in my stomach were biting a little less, but the woman still made me nervous, and really it wasn’t her fault, it was mine. I knew that. Still, this was strange territory and it was going to take some time getting used to it. The bottom line was that I felt this beginning could eventually lead to taking me out of my comfort zone and I would build a strong wall of resistance to change. I could feel it coming. I needed a chill pill. Do they make those for dogs?

  John said, “Smile at Marlene Buck.” So I narrowed my eyes and curled my lips, which is not a learned trait, it’s instinctive. I could do that since birth and I suppose most Goldens can perform that naturally. I sensed that Marlene knew that since she displayed no reaction of surprise. Maybe she knows what she’s doing. In a way I perceived her nonchalance as a good thing since I was taught to never trust a person who smiled all the time.

  She reached into her handbag and laid three items on the car park’s pavement…….her cell phone, car keys, and a compact. “Which one of these makes an automobile work?”

  Ok, so now she was testing me for my powers of deduction. I thought about pointing to the cell phone and perhaps my future would stay well within the confines of comfort and status quo. But John was the one who agreed to this, so in obedience to him, I laid my paw on the keys. Besides, the thought occurred to me that human teenagers probably think that it is the cell phone that makes a car work. And I certainly did not want to be perceived as a yuppie dog. Dogs have an advantage in that regard, for texting on a cell phone is not the center of our universe. I digress.

  She scooped up the three items to place them back into her bag. It was then I noticed a handgun in her purse, and that got my attention.

  “John, you know why I’m here. Can I get a demonstration of that?”

  “Yes, I think so. Cassie!” John yelled. I knew Cassie was hiding away in the shrubs by the front steps and I knew she would be all ears. Apparently John knew that as well.

  Cassie strode slowly toward us and stopped short, obviously intimidated. A lot of cats are squeamish that way. She lifted one paw as a peace sign.

  “Buck, show Marlene how you communicate with Cassie.”

  I motioned for Cassie to join me and take up the patty cake position. Of course, all the two humans could hear was my brief and hushed bark, but Cassie heard me say, “Just do what I say and this will be short and sweet, honeybuns.” So we sat close together on our haunches and performed the patty cake…..faster and faster until the both of us started laughing, but John and Marlene didn’t know that. Humans don’t understand that animals laugh quite a bit. That’s unfortunate, for it would surely get us more treats, but I again digress.

  I had noticed that Oliver was perched on top of the garage and taking it all in. It occurred to me that Oliver, who is as wise as any owl ever was, may have more insight as to what was happening here than I did. I barked instructions for Oliver to fly down to us, which he did and lit in front of me. I barked again, and he left to resume his watch atop the garage. We didn’t say a word to each other, though we could have recited the Gettysburg Address or engaged ourselves in a great debate, but what good would that have done, the humans wouldn’t have known.

  Marlene stood to her feet and said to John, “I’ve seen enough, let’s do it. I’ve got a week’s worth of gear packed in the car, but first show me the accommodations and work place. And I have to call Virginia and tell them it’s a go, and that I’ll be here for a few days.”

  “Oh, good grief,” I thought, “did she seriously just say days?” The gremlins resumed their hunger.

  John led her toward the house and said to me, “Come on, Buck, we’re going to the basement. You too, Cassie.”

  Marlene checked up and said, “The cat’s not involved, John, we can’t use her.”

  “Now wait just a darn minute,” I thought.

  John replied, “Marlene, Buck and Cassie are joined at the hip. She will have to be present at the training or else I’ll have to say no. But she won’t go on assignment if that’s where this winds up. Can you get that to fly?”

  “This will be my most unusual case, for sure, John. Buck is too old for the full regimen of Ops training, but based on what I just saw we have to have him. Ok, let’s proceed, the cat can attend.”

  She called me old. “Lady, you ain’t no spring chicken,” though I had to admit she was easy on the eyes.