Lost in the Blinded Blizzard Read Online Free PDF

sincerely.”
    â€œYeah? Well, you’re fixing to see the second act.”
    I had already made up my mind to leap into the back of the pickup and show the bird dog the rest of my “routine,” which would consist of me doing incredible damage to his face.
    But just then Billy came out of the house. He waved good-bye to Slim, jumped into the pickup, and drove away.
    Just before they disappeared into the storm, Plato yelled, “Terrific job, Hank, really terrific! It’ll be a long time before Beulah and I forget this night!”
    â€œSame here, Bird Dog, and that should cause you to lose a lot of sleep!”
    And with that, they vanished into the night, leaving me alone with a huge crater in my heart.
    And tail.

Chapter Six: A Sick Baby

    T he world’s best cure for a broken heart has always been a nice juicy bone. The next-best cure is a good night’s sleep in front of a woodstove.
    I had no juicy bones to help me through this dark and difficult period, and so when Slim came to the door and called us dogs into the house, I rushed inside and took my spot in front of the stove.
    I still didn’t think that a ranch dog had any business . . . I did it for medical reasons. A guy has to take care of his heart.
    Did it work? Well, I managed to survive the night, even though I spent a large portion of my sleep time dreaming about a certain collie dog whose name I won’t mention.
    And listening to Drover’s wheezing and grunting.
    The next morning at daylight, I was awakened by the ringing of a bell. Not one to be fooled twice in a row, I suspicioned that it was the telephone and didn’t bother to bark at it.
    Okay, I barked at it a couple of times, but I was still asleep when I did it, so technically speaking, I wasn’t actually fooled.
    I heard Slim’s feet hit the floor in the back bedroom. I heard him running down the hall. Then . . . his scratchy voice.
    â€œHello. No, I’ve been up for hours. Who is this? Oh, Loper. Morning. What time is it? I’ll be derned. It is?”
    Slim parted the curtains and looked out the window. “By gollies, it sure is. Looks like we might be in for a storm. The baby’s sick? Say, that’s no good. I guess the roads are too bad to . . . Cough medicine? Yeah, I’ve got a bottle of it somewhere. What? Speak up, Loper, I can’t hardly hear you!”
    â€œNo, you stay put. I’ll try to make it in the flat­bed. Oh, it ain’t snowing that hard.” He peeked out the window again. “It is snowing pretty hard, ain’t it? But I’ll make it, don’t worry. See you in twenty minutes.”
    He hung up the phone and stretched his eyelids to get them open. “Little Molly’s got a bad cough, dogs, and we’ve got to take some medicine up to her. I’d better find the derned stuff right now, else I’ll run off and forget it, and wouldn’t that be cute?”
    He shuffled into the bathroom. Bottles clinked. He came out again, yawning and holding a bottle of something up close to his face. “Cough medicine, that’s what it says. Okay, so far, so good.”
    He came over to the front of the stove and opened it up. “Move, dog, unless you want to go into the firebox.”
    On this ranch, manners don’t get much exercise in the morning. The cowboys just grunt at you and threaten to throw you into the fire if you don’t . . . oh well.
    I moved.
    He pitched in some crumpled-up newspapers and sticks of kindling, blew on the coals until the paper popped into flames, and then he added some chunks of fence-post cedar.
    He’d slept in his one-piece red long-john under­wear and left his jeans and shirt draped over the back of a chair, so it didn’t take him long to get dressed.
    He went out into the kitchen and flipped on the light switch. Nothing happened. The electric was still out because of the storm. He grumbled about that and made himself a quick