Here Buddy Chapter II

THE AFTERNOON

     Aunt Jeri and Uncle Ricky both stood looking around the wooded area and then at the partial load of wood on the big pickup.  Then one of them would shake his or her head as if to say, “What do we do now?”

     Finally Uncle Ricky summoned an opinion.  “Let’s go ahead and cut some more wood.  Buddy knows where we are and we sure don’t know where she has gone.  We’ll let Sonya run loose and maybe she’ll find Buddy.”

     Aunt Jeri countered, “Well, let me take one more walk through this area and see if Buddy has gotten caught.  I just don’t see how she can get very far dragging that chain through all this down timber, do you?”

     “Looks like she would bark if she was stuck,” said Uncle Ricky.

     “You’d think so but . . . .”  Aunt Jeri paused.  She continued, “You know how crafty she can be when she doesn’t want to be caught.”

     Uncle Ricky nodded in agreement.  He was still thinking about that chain.  Why did he put that chain on Buddy?  Could she possibly get away from it if she did get stuck?  The vision kept returning of the time in 1983 when Buddy did not come home all night.  The next morning still no Buddy.  When Uncle Ricky got home from school, there was Buddy.  Aunt Jeri had explained how Buddy returned with a cable snare very tight around her neck.  Aunt Jeri had shown him the cable and how it appeared to have been chewed in two pieces.  Could Buddy possibly be so lucky this time?  Uncle Ricky continued mulling the situation over in his mind.

     Aunt Jeri said, “I’m gonna go through here once more.”  Not waiting for an answer she made her way back into the trees and disappeared.

     Uncle Ricky picked up the chainsaw and began cutting some of the long lengths of wood into stove lengths.  As he worked he continued to worry and think about Buddy.  His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a vehicle.  He looked around and saw a pickup coming on the logging road from the main road.  The hunters went on by.  This caused Uncle Ricky to start worrying now about the possibility of a hunter seeing Buddy chasing a deer.  Although Uncle Ricky knew this was forbidden and the hunter would be within his right to shoot at Buddy the thought caused Uncle Ricky to get mad.  First he was mad at the system.  Why, if it was alright for Man to chase after wild game with weapons, was it so wrong for a dog to pursue deer or other game in the age old tradition of the animal kingdom?  He had posed this question for himself before and still could only come up with the same answer:  “It is the Law!”  Was this the same law that allowed men in helicopters to hunt coyotes for the same government that made the law stating that it was illegal for domestic animals to chase wild animals?  Wyoming was a tough part of the world.  It had to be.  Dogs were for working cattle and sheep.  Wyoming people took their dogs with them in the back of pickup trucks.  Their dogs stayed in the pickup while their masters went in the post office, store, or wherever.  Why couldn’t Buddy learn to stay and quit chasing those deer?

 

      The wood kept piling up as Uncle Ricky cut wood and thoughts of Buddy whirled through his mind.  He would stop the saw occasionally and call, “Here Buddy.”  Where was Aunt Jeri?  He looked around.  “Here Sonar.”  No Sonya.  “Oh no not both of my dogs!”  Uncle Ricky said aloud.  Where was Aunt Jeri?  “Oh no - - .  What if she fell and is hurt?”  continued Uncle Ricky in his rising panic.

     Aunt Jeri appeared as she came back out of the trees.  “Whew!” sighed Uncle Ricky to himself.

     “I went clear down to the second area below the road,” explained Aunt Jeri.  “I’m sure that mark in the snow is the chain.  However, I couldn’t find a trace of it crossing the road or in the area below the road.”  Aunt Jeri went onto explain about seeing two carloads of hunters driving on the road.  However they had continued on down the road toward the south where the road rises to climb Snowshoe Pass.

     Uncle Ricky bit nervously at his lip.  Aunt Jeri looked as though she would cry.  She had been through this a good many times with Buddy these past several months.  It always made her so mad.  She would let Buddy and Sonya out of the pen and take them for a walk.  Then it would happen.  Buddy would bolt and run and be out of sight.  Calling, “here Buddy,” would result in nothing.  Buddy would be gone for two or three hours and then come home looking as though she knew she was in big trouble.  They wanted to punish Buddy but Uncle Ricky would say, “I know - but if I punish her she might not come home next time.”  This would make Aunt Jeri a little disgusted with Uncle Ricky but she knew how much he loved that dog so she just kept trying to keep Buddy from running off.

     Aunt Jeri could see the fear on Uncle Ricky’s face.  She wanted to say, “we’ve always known that each time Buddy does this it could be the last time and that she might not come back.”  However she only looked at Uncle Ricky.

     Finally he said, “You know – I noticed just today how worn and loose Buddy’s collar is becoming.  I’ve been thinking that maybe she got caught and the collar broke and she is loose after all.” 

      “Do you think that’s possible?” asked Aunt Jeri somewhat hopefully.

     Uncle Ricky reminded her of the “snare” incident down on the Popo Agie, the river they lived close to in 1983.

     “Was Sone with you?” Uncle Ricky asked.

      “Is she gone now?” said Aunt Jeri somewhat disgusted.

      “Here Sone,  Here Sone.  Come on Sonar.  Here Sonya!” came the cries from Uncle Ricky as he moved away from the pickup.  He continued on up the hill above the pickup.  No Sonya.  “Here Buddy!”  No Buddy.  Uncle Ricky wondered if Sonya had come across Buddy and what they might be doing.  Would Sonya come back and try to get he and Aunt Jeri to follow and lead them to Buddy?  Had Buddy managed to slip out of the worn collar and were both of them roaming the mountain that seemed to sprawl around them like a gigantic universe?

      Uncle Ricky made his way back toward the pickup.  Aunt Jeri was sitting in the seat drinking a cup of coffee.  Just then he saw something move in the trees below the pickup.  “Sonya, come here.”  Sonya came bounding up to him and jumped up with her front feet resting on his hip.  She gave him her customary greeting of a few quick licks on the hand.  “Where’s Buddy, Sone?”  asked Uncle Ricky.  “Lick – lick” and a wag of the tail was the reply.

     Sonya went across the logging trail and hopped into the back of the little pickup and lay down in the shade of the topper on the box of the little pickup.  She needed to rest.  Uncle Ricky and Aunt Jeri began to load the wood that Uncle Ricky had cut into stove lengths.

     They continued to cut and load wood.  Gradually the pickup began to fill with firewood.  They were getting near to the tail end of the box.  Uncle Ricky took a long piece and cut it to fit across the box.  He cut two more and then fitted them into the space where the endgate should be.  They began to cut more stove length pieces and stack them into the pickup box filling the remaining space back to the make-shift endgate.  They paused every little while to call, “Here Buddy.  Come on Buddy, let’s go.”  Why didn’t they at least hear a bark or some noise to give them some idea some hope?

     The afternoon wore on.  They decided to move further on into the wood-gathering area.  They took the little pickup in and found a spot.  Uncle Ricky walked back to get the big pickup.  When he returned they paused for refreshments.  They made small talk trying not to think about the dilemma approaching.  The sun was getting ready to start sliding down behind the western side of the hill that rose above them.  Uncle Ricky looked at his watch.  4:15 P. M.  No wonder the sun was preparing to go over the mountain.

     Aunt Jeri looked at the load of wood on the big pickup.  “Maybe we better have a look around and see if we can find a track or something before it gets any later,” she said.  “We’ve got a pretty fair load anyhow,” she continued.

      “Yeah, I think you’re right.  The hunters will probably start getting thick too,” groaned Uncle Ricky.

     With that they moved the pickups back to the original site where they had cut the load on the big pickup.  ”Think we better leave the pickup here so Buddy will realize we are still here.  Maybe she will hang around until we get back,” Uncle Ricky said hopefully.

     Aunt Jeri sat in the little pickup drinking coffee.  Uncle Ricky stood by the door drinking a cold drink and glancing around the mountain as though he had never seen it before.  At the same time he could almost draw a mental picture of the terrain around them as he had strained his eyes looking over the tree-covered hills hoping to see the familiar sight of Buddy bounding toward him, her tongue hanging out to cool her as she ran.  Nothing.  He shivered slightly and reached for his red, hooded sweatshirt.  “Starting to get cool with the sun beginning to go down,” he said absentmindedly.  “Come on Buddy!” flashed through his mind.

     “I’m going to walk down that hill once more,” declared Aunt Jeri.

     “I’ll drive down the road to the Ranger Creek Campground,” followed Uncle Ricky.  “I’ll wait about half-way down for you to come out so you won’t have to walk back up.”

      With that they separated.  Uncle Ricky drove slowly down the road stopping wherever the road was wide enough to pull over and be out of the way of other vehicles.  He went clear down to the campground stopping to call, “Here Buddy!”  No Buddy.  He started back up the road toward the logging road.  He stopped and waited for Aunt Jeri.  She did not come and she did not come.  He became impatient and drove on up the hill to the logging road.  Perhaps Aunt Jeri had returned with some news.  There was the big pickup just as they had left it.  No Aunt Jeri, no Buddy. He sat there for a while.  Then he heard the sound of an approaching vehicle.  It was three hunters in a pickup.  Uncle Ricky stepped out of the little pickup.  He waved at the driver of the other pickup.  The pickup stopped.  “Haven’t seen a dog running anywhere up here have you?”

     “No,” replied the driver.  “What does the dog look like?”

     Uncle Ricky described Buddy.  He winced as he finished the description with, “She’d be dragging a tether chain.”

     “We did see a lady walking up the road,” offered the driver.  “That your wife?”

     “Yep,” said Uncle Ricky as he thought of how Aunt Jeri was going to chastise him for not waiting on the road like he said he was going to do.

     “I better get going,” said Uncle Ricky.  “Thanks for your help.”

    “No problem.  Good luck,” came the reply from the other pickup.  “Yeah, good luck,” echoed one of the other passengers, anxious to get on with their hunt.

     Uncle Ricky started out to the main road.  He met Aunt Jeri, who got into the little pickup saying, “Did you hear a dog barking?”

     “No, did you?”

     “I think it came from the house down the road.”

     “Is that the Ranger Creek Guest Ranch?” asked Uncle Ricky.

     “Let’s drive over there and ask if they have seen anything,” Aunt Jeri said pointing toward the buildings and trees that made the Guest Ranch.

    Uncle Ricky drove to the Guest Ranch which sat back off the main road about a quarter of a mile.  The winding road was muddy and the red clay mixed with snow and water splashed up on the windows of the little pickup.

     Uncle Ricky went to the door and spoke with the people in the main building at the Guest Ranch.  “No they hadn’t noticed anything of a stray dog.”  They said they would keep an eye open for her.  “Did you check down at the Ranger Station?” they inquired of Uncle Ricky.  He explained he had not but that he intended to do so.

       Uncle Ricky thanked the people for their time and returned to the pickup.  Sonya was straining to see the strange dog and was beginning to warm up her bark with a deep “RRRuff-RRRRuff.”

      “Ssh – be quiet Zone,” Uncle Ricky told her as he got into the pickup.

     “No luck,” he told Aunt Jeri.  “Now what?”

      As they pulled out onto the winding, sloppy drive back to the main road Uncle Ricky told about the people recommending that he contact the men at the Ranger Station.  He hated to do that because he thought that once they knew Buddy was loose they would only have early warning about a dog chasing deer.  He had no other choice though and turned onto the main road to return down the switch-back road, past the campground and on up to the Ranger Station.

     As they drove past the logging road they rounded a curve in the man road.  There sat two pickup loads of hunters.  They were talking with the Game and fish Officer.  Uncle Ricky recognized the officer.  It was Bob.  He had his two German shepherds with him.  One was called Smokey.  The other was just a puppy.  The hunters were admiring the dogs.  They were beautiful dogs and Smokey was as smart as a human.

     Uncle Ricky stopped the pickup and waited for Bob and the hunters to finish their conversation.  Bob pulled his pickup along side Uncle Ricky’s pickup.  They greeted one another.  Uncle Ricky said, “Bob you haven’t seen a dog running loose around here dragging a chain have you?”

     “No, I sure haven’t” said Bob sympathetically.  “When did she get away?”

     “About 12:00 today,” said Uncle Ricky.

     “What kind of dog is it?” asked Bob.

     Again Uncle Ricky described Buddy, her breed, her white paw and again the chain, that darned chain.

     “I’ll keep an eye out for her.  Maybe she’ll come back after bit,” offered Bob

     Another load of hunters came up behind Bob’s pickup.  After visiting with the hunters he wished them good luck, waved to Uncle Ricky and drove on toward the logging trail where Uncle Ricky and Aunt Jeri had just passed by on their way from the Ranger Creek Guest Ranch.

     Uncle Ricky and Aunt Jeri decided to go on down the main road once more in hope of spotting Buddy or at least some sign that she might have been there recently.  As they moved along the now too familiar road they kept their eyes glued to the trees and terrain on either side of the road.  They came to the place where Aunt Jeri had seen the trail of the dragging chain.  Once more they stopped to check this place for a possible clue but it was futile.  There had been so many vehicles up and down the road by this time that any trace of a dog’s tracks was gone.  Aunt Jeri decided to have one more try at walking through the dense timber from where they now sat to a place below where the road came around on its decent toward the campground below.

    Uncle Ricky continued on down the road in the little pickup.  Sonya had stretched out in the back, not seeming to be worried.  They worked their way down the main road and were waiting near where Aunt Jeri came out of the timber.  “Not a sign,” she said, weariness beginning to show in her voice.

     They turned the little pickup around and started back up the switchbacks and the logging trail where the big pickup had been left.  They hoped that maybe Buddy would be there when they got there.  They turned on the logging road and rounded the turn where they could make out the big pickup.  Closer and closer they came to the pickup loaded with wood.  Uncle Ricky prayed that Buddy would come crawling out from under the pickup.  They arrived at the big pickup.  It sat all alone like a waiting sentinel, just waiting all alone.

     Uncle Ricky and Aunt Jeri sat there each thinking of what should be done next.  Aunt Jeri spoke first, saying, “Why don’t you go back down and feed the horses and find us something to eat?  I’ll wait here in the big pickup.”

       They were preparing to proceed like Aunt Jeri had planned.  Just then the group of hunters with whom Uncle Ricky had conversed earlier and who had told him of the lady they had seen walking appeared.  “See you found your wife,” one of the hunters joked.  They had not seen any sign of the dog however.  “Getting chilly isn’t it?” said another of the hunters.

     Although all the hunters they had seen that day had been quite friendly, Uncle Ricky decided that he could not leave Aunt Jeri alone up here.  Besides, he could see she was chilled and her shoes and socks were wet.  “Why don’t we both go back down the hill?” he asked.

      Aunt Jeri nodded in agreement.

     “We’ll take all the tools, lock the big pickup, and leave it here.  If Buddy comes back she’ll recognize it and probably stay around,” Uncle Ricky said as he explained his plan.  They gathered up the saw, ropes, shovels, cooler, and axe and put it all in the back of the little pickup.  Sony looked a bit interested but only moved forward to lay down and wait.

     They called, “Here Buddy, here Buddy.”  They listened but all they could hear was the sound of the wind blowing through the trees.

      “Oh Buddy, I’m so sorry,” Uncle Ricky said so only he could hear it.  “I’ll be back.  Please be here.”  He looked at his watch – 6:00 P.M.