Chapter 4
Cooper’s eyes grew wide and just as quickly filled with tears. “No, no, it can’t be.” He took off running to the stream. The bloodhound tried to call him back at first, before she realized his determination. The grass obscured his view, but he knew the way. He may have never run faster than in that moment. His ears flapped in the wind and the force of his sprint. The path was clouded further by tears. “It can’t be. It can’t be,” he repeated in rhythm with his strides. He slid forward in the pea gravel when he applied the brakes at the edge of the stream. Several dogs were near the eddy where most dogs drink. He pushed his way through them against their mild protest. The scene was something no dog should have to see; especially a relative, especially a son. Despite his rapid panting, his breaths were momentarily arrested by the view. Patches lay half in the water and a half on some small, smooth, exposed stones. Cooper sniffed him and whimpered. Patches’ face was appalling, with his tongue far out of his mouth on one side. The other dead dogs were on the bank with one exception. That one lay completely submerged in the shallow pool near Patches.
“Don’t lick him,” one of the bystander said, “the water’s probably poison.”
Cooper heard the warning and complied, but didn’t acknowledge the dog in any way. He stared at his dad for a long time; half expecting that he would pop up at any moment and shake the water from his thick black and white fur. Cooper sat back on his haunches on the wet pebbles and looked around. He noted who the dogs were, and realized that he knew them all very well. One was a friend that was the same age. A mournful howl arose in the distance toward the barn. The voice was instantly recognized as his mother. “Someone must’ve just told her about dad,” he thought. More howls and barks erupted from the distant barnyard as the families were told the news.
Cooper knew that the investigation team would have to do their part, but he also already knew that the result would be the same. He could see for himself that there were branches and leaves of hemlock under the water and scattered along the rocks. Further down the stream, near some larger stones, Cooper saw the tail and rear legs of another dog. He put his nose in the air and realized that it was a coyote. He stood with water dripping from his back legs and tail but didn’t bother to shake it off. He walked straight to the coyote and saw it was an adult male like the other had been. Something green was in the coyote’s mouth. Cooper pawed at its upper lip and revealed a tiny green stem. It struck him as odd, but he didn’t know what it meant. It had no special odor to help them make sense of it. The grass parted in front of Cooper and three coyotes appeared.
“What are you doing? Don’t touch him,” one of the coyotes growled. Cooper jumped back and growled also, mostly as a reflex. The coyotes became agitated instantly and ran to surround Cooper, all the while growling insults toward him. The bystander dogs growled as well, but kept their distance. Cooper’s head spun from side to side as the coyotes advanced and tried to bite at him. Another coyote came through the grass and yelled out, “It’s okay. I know this dog. He’s good.”
The coyotes weren’t quickly convinced, but began to back away from Cooper slowly. They continue to growl but softer and more mumbled. “What are you doing here?” He said.
Cooper glanced over to his dead father, “That’s my dad. He’s dead.”
Peace offered no verbal condolence but dropped his head toward the ground. “This is my father, too.”
“I didn’t know. I’m sorry,” Cooper said.
Peace nodded his head. The others in his pack began pulling the dead coyote out of the stream. “I guess I need to help them,” he said.
“Yeah, I guess,” Cooper replied.
Cooper started back over to where his dad’s corpse lay. Peace called out to him before disappearing with the other coyotes. “Cooper, I’m sorry it was your dad.” Peace turned and walked away. The tall grass enclosed the space around him as his body moved through.
A Basset Hound met Cooper beside his dad. “Maybe it’s best if you let us handle the investigation. Why don’t you go back home for now and be with your mother and sister? What ‘cha think?” Cooper was reluctant to leave but knew his place was with the rest of his family. He nodded his head and began to walk back to the barnyard with his head low and his tail hanging limp. The Basset Hound yelled out to him before he got too far away, “We’ll let you know as soon as he’s ready for Bald Hill.”
Cooper turned just long enough to hear the message then crept back on his way. The very mention of Bald Hill made him nauseated. He wouldn’t allow himself to think about it now. He was dizzy with thoughts ranging from his dad teaching him to track rabbits to his conversation last night after the meeting. The time with his mother and sister was excruciatingly emotional. His body ached from the despair, but there was yet one more thing that had to be done before he could rest. That announcement was walking toward him in the body of the basset hound. “Your father’s body is ready to go to Bald Hill. Will you need help?”
“Um, yeah, if you’ve got anybody. We can probably use two or three more dogs.”
“All right, I’ll round up some dogs and have them to you in a few minutes.”
Cooper nodded his head. He gathered his mom and sister, then went to the trailhead at the edge of the barnyard. The three volunteers arrived moments later. They walked single file to the stream with Cooper in the lead. The trip from the stream to Bald Hill was as difficult as he thought it would be, maybe more. In his two years of life, Cooper had never been on Bald Hill, although he had watched from afar on a few occasions. He wished he were only watching it now. It was disturbing to everyone when the group lost its grip and caused Patches to awkwardly roll backward. It seemed indecent and disrespectful to handle the body in such a way. No one was to blame. After all, the hill was quite steep at that point.
As they neared the vertical stones, the vultures were already there. They hopped on the ground before resorting to flight to keep their distance. The smell of yesterday’s carcasses permeated up from the rocky soil. The bones near the peak were thick enough to cause a loss of traction for the dogs as they pulled the body into place. “That’s fine right there,” Clover said. Everyone dropped their hold and stepped back.
The vultures stood at a moderate distance, waiting patiently. Others had perched again on the old stone grave markers they had already passed. The three dogs who had volunteered to help backed out of the way to give the family a final few minutes with their loved one. The ceremony was brief but caused all of them to whimper when Cooper said, “I hope to be just like Dad some day.”
As they left the hill, the sounds of large flapping wings ensued. Cooper didn’t dare look back and he told his sister not to as well. At the barnyard, it was lunchtime. Clover told Cooper to go eat some ration in an attempt to make things seem back to normal. Cooper wasn’t hungry and decided to go for a walk. He told his mother, but she wasn’t at all pleased with the decision.
“At least drink till your full before you go,” she said, “you can’t trust the pond or the stream right now.”
“I will,” he agreed, and walked to the trough in the center of the barnyard. The artesian well was directed into it with a pipe. The water was cold and tasted good, but he drank only a few swallows and was content. He didn’t know where he was headed and wandered through the meadow at first, but found himself drawn to the rocky outcropping overlooking the property. The wind was at his tail, so he didn’t notice any other scents as he jumped from one spot to the next climbing the rocky perch. He was surprised to see Peace at the overlook when he crested the last point. Peace was lying down, already watching the valley below. He didn’t bother to acknowledge Cooper’s approach, until Cooper was beside him.
“Hey,” he said. His tone was completely without expression.
Cooper’s tone was no better. “Hey,” he said and plopped down to his abdomen with a thud, as if standing expended his last energy reserves. Cooper couldn’t help but to notice the vultures huddled together on Bald Hi
ll. Their sheer number kept any disturbing view from exposure. He guessed there must be twenty or more on the hill. He took a deep breath and found a level of relaxation as he exhaled. “I can’t believe he’s gone,” Cooper said, “I mean, I just talked to him yesterday. Everything was normal. He was fine. It just doesn’t seem real.”
“I know what you mean,” Peace agreed. “My father always said to live everyday like it’s your last. He lived the life he wanted. I don’t think he had any regrets.”
“That’s a good way to live,” Cooper said. The sun was beyond its peak. They lay there under its waning heat in perfect silence, sometimes napping and sometimes staring at nothing in particular. Cooper broke the silence, “What do you think is up with the hemlock in the water?”
“What you mean?”
“My dogs think that the pond was poisoned by hemlock stems and leaves, and I think the stream was too. What we don’t know is how or why?”
“Yeah, hemlock. That’s what my pack said it was too,” Peace paused, “there are worse ways to die. It’s pretty quick, I’m told.”
“That’s looking really hard for a silver lining, don’t you think?”
Peace considered the comments, and offered, “I think when something is God’s will, it will happen. You just have to accept it.”
“How is this God’s will?” Cooper asked. For the first time he began to be agitated. “Dogs taken out in their prime, and leaving families behind. You telling me God wants that?”
Peace attempted to calm Cooper. “I’m not telling you anything. Who can know the mind of God? We just have to seek what he wants from us while were here.”
The calling attempt worked. Cooper’s hair on his back fell down into position. “I guess you’re right.” Silence became the rule again for a long time after their brief conversation. The sun was approaching the horizon, so Cooper sat up and said, “Mom expects me back before dark, and I’m sure everyone will be meeting to listen to the bloodhounds in a little while, so I guess I’ll be heading back.”
“Okay, I’ll see you later,” he said.
Cooper got to the edge, where his first jump down would be required. He thought it odd that Peace wasn’t coming as well, so he looked back and asked, “Isn’t your pack expecting you back soon?”
“Not exactly.”
Cooper stopped his progress, turned and walked back. “What does that mean?”
“My pack is different from yours. Their ways are different.”
“So, what are you saying?”
“I’m on my own.”
“On your own? That’s wrong. How can they put you out at a time like this?”
“It’s our way. I’m not a pup anymore. Mom’s been taken in by another uncle, but I’m supposed to start my own pack now.”
Cooper shook his head, “Dude, that’s a lot to take in. What are you planning on doing for the next few days?”
“I haven’t got any further than right now in my plan.”
“Well, that’s it then. You’re coming to live with me.”
“I can’t do that,” he said.
“Just for a few days, till you figure out what to do.”
“I really don’t think I should.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re coming with me and that’s all there is to it. You understand?”
Peace smiled for the first time and relented. “Okay, but just for a few days.” Peace stood and stretched, then walked a direction that wasn’t the way down.
“Where are you going?” Cooper asked.
“I’ve got a supply bag over here. Mom packed it and wouldn’t be quiet until I brought it with me.”
“Supply bag? What’s in it?”
“I have no idea. I haven’t cared to look. I feel like an idiot dragging it around, but I promised her I’d take it with me.” Peace pulled an old black purse from under the ledge of rock. It had a flap to cover the opening and the strap was broken. He bit the long strap and pulled it behind him all the way back to the barnyard.
When they got there, the meeting was already underway. They stopped in the tall grass before they revealed their position. “Let me handle this, okay? I’ll do all the talking,” Cooper said. A conversation was ongoing in the barnyard between the investigation team and the rest of the dogs. Cooper held his paw up and whispered, “Wait, I want to hear this.” They sat down surrounded and concealed in the tall grass.
The old lady bloodhound was speaking, “So we think that the stream at the big eddy and further downstream should also be avoided for drinking water, at least until further notice. The well here in the barnyard is unaffected, so feel free to drink all you like.”
A dog spoke up, “One incident could be regarded as an accident or fluke, but two? Someone is poisoning the water, and I for one think it’s the coyotes. We never had this problem till they came around.” Several in the crowd barked with agreement.
Cooper looked to Peace and whispered, “Sorry, everybody doesn’t feel that way.”
The bloodhounds said, “We don’t have any evidence of direct coyote involvement. For goodness sakes, they had a death each time too. Why would anyone kill themselves in the process? I don’t think you’re correct.”
A cocker spaniel from the back of the crowd said, “We don’t need to take any chances. If our ancestors and the humans who built the barn thought we needed a fence, then we probably need a fence. We should fix the fence at the southern border.” That response was well accepted by the entire crowd of dogs. They all barked and howled for several minutes.
When the bloodhound was able to quiet the crowd, she said, “Whether or not to repair the fence is a mute point. How do any of you think these repairs would get done? We have no supplies sufficient for repair and much of the fence is trapped beneath trees that weigh more than all of us combined.”
“We can’t just sit here and do nothing. We can repair and rebuild the missing sections with sticks and rocks if we have to,” someone in the crowd said.
The bloodhound held up her paw, “You haven’t considered everything. Let’s say you fixed the fence. What do we do with all the coyotes inside the fence already? Answer me that.”
A German shepherd said, “We forcefully remove them. That’s what.” The crowd barked loudly.
Just at that moment, the wind shifted and blew across Cooper and Peace into the barnyard. Everyone smelled them simultaneously and fell quiet. A few of the dogs began to growl. The old lady bloodhound knew exactly who it was. She said, “Cooper, you want to come on out? And bring your friend.”