A Treatise on Shelling Beans Read Online Free PDF

me not to leave him there.
    So I put my hands under his belly and stood him up. I thought to myself, if he can stand upright maybe he’ll pull through. I didn’t believe he’d be able to. And guess what, he stayed on his feet. Skin and bone. He was getting verminous. His neck was all bloody from the cord, and vermin had gotten into the wound. Into his eyes. Bloody foam was coming from his mouth. He swayed and he trembled, but he stayed on his feet. All right then, come on, I said, let’s try and live. I untied the cord from his neck and I urged him, come on, take one step and you’ll be able to walk. The first step is the most important. He did take one step, but then he collapsed. What was I to do? I picked him up and carried him. But my arms began to get tired. You can see what a huge animal he is, even though then he didn’t weigh half what he does now. I wished I’d had my penknife with me, I could have cut a few branches, made a stretcher and pulled him behind me somehow or other. Luckily I was wearing a jacket. I took it off, took off my shirt, tied them together, fastened them with the cord, put him into the whole thing, sat down, and somehow hoisted him onto my back, then I managed to struggle to my feet. And that was how I brought him home.
    After that I asked around at the cabins whether anyone had lost a dog. No one had. I fed him up, brought him back to health, you see what he’s like now.The only thing that made me think was that the folks from one of the cabins left immediately afterwards and they didn’t come back the next season, then they sold their cabin. It’s belonged to someone else for a good few years now, but whenever we do our rounds Rex always lies down outside that cabin, by the door to the deck. I always have to take him away from there, the new owner can’t understand why this dog always has to pick his doorway.
    The other one, Paws, I saved him from drowning. One evening, it was also late autumn, the off-season, I was listening to music. When I listen to music I usually leave the lights off. All of a sudden I thought I heard someone driving up to the far shore of the lake in a car. You see, I can be listening to music and still hear everything. I went outside, didn’t see any lights, I thought I’d been mistaken. Then I heard a faint thud like a trunk being shut. Who on earth could it be at that time? Being so quiet, without lights? I thought, I’ll go see. And I snuck over there, stepping softly so whoever it was wouldn’t hear me coming and drive away. I was still some ways away when I recognized him. It was a guy from one of the cabins.
    “What are you doing here?” I asked him.
    “Nothing really,” he said evasively. “I just came to pick up some stuff from my place, I didn’t mean to wake you up. Your lights were off, I figured you must be asleep.”
    “I wasn’t asleep.” Then I hear a squealing sound. I look around, and in the dark I see what looks like a sack. And something’s clearly moving inside it. “What’s with the sack?” I ask.
    “I took a few rocks,” he says. “I’ve got a yard at home. It looks nice when you put rocks around the flower beds, so my wife asked me while I’m here …”
    “Rocks,” I say, “and they’re moving and squealing?”
    In fact there were also rocks in the sack, but he couldn’t explain the movement and the squealing. In the end he couldn’t keep it up:
    “Forgive me. It’s a little dog, a puppy. I came here to drown it. I bought it for my grandson. He was crazy about having a dog. But he doesn’t want it anymore.”
    Ever since then, whenever he comes here he always brings something formy dogs. Dog chow, or canned dog food with beef or turkey or salmon. And not just during the season, in the off-season as well, he often visits in the winter and brings them something. I tell him he needn’t bother, they have plenty to eat. All he’ll do is spoil them. But one time he says to me:
    “You saved my soul.”
    I was