The Case of the Kidnapped Collie Read Online Free PDF Page A

season, I’m so excited that . . . well, just look at me, Hank. I’m shivering. Is that being excited or what?”
    Sure enough, he was shivering all over. “That’s being excited.”
    â€œBut I feel I’m in shape, Hank, maybe the best shape of my life. You may remember that last season I pulled a muscle in my shoulder.”
    â€œI guess I missed that.”
    â€œDid you? I got a bad muscle pull on opening day, and Hank, I’ll be honest with you. I thought my career was over. It was that bad.”
    â€œHmmm. I’ll be derned.”

    â€œRight. But I worked through it, Hank. I went into a different program and made it back for the third week of the season.”
    â€œWow.”
    â€œThanks, Hank. It was tense and I had some trouble with depression, but,” he gave me a wink, “everything works out, doesn’t it?”
    â€œHow’s Beulah?”
    â€œExcuse me? Oh, Beulah. Beulah is . . .” He smiled, closed his eyes, opened them again, and looked up at the sky. “Beulah is . . . how can I find words to, to express the Beulah-ness of Beulah?”
    â€œI don’t know.”
    â€œI often say, Hank, that Beulah is a painting in fur, a work of sculpture that lives and breathes before our very eyes. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d better finish my warm-ups. Will you be hunting with us?”
    â€œOh sure, you bet. I know a couple of things about birds myself.”
    â€œDo you? Great. I didn’t know you were into birds. You’ve been practicing, I guess, working out, getting all prepared for the big day, huh?”
    â€œOh yes.”
    â€œGreat! We’ll see you at the hunt. Take care.”
    And off he went to do his warm-ups and so forth. Imagine him asking if I would “be hunting” with them! Who or whom did he think he was? Of course I would be hunting. It was MY ranch, after all.
    Loper walked up just then. I gave him a big cowdog smile and barked, just to let him know that I was ready for the hunt.
    â€œNow listen, pooch, we’re going to be hunting behind a good dog today, and we don’t need your kind of help.”
    HUH?
    â€œAnd if you try to follow us, I’ll have to tie you up. Now, you stay here and keep out of trouble, hear? Stay.”
    I didn’t even try Heavy Begs. I knew it wouldn’t work. What a lousy deal, confined to quarters on the first day of bird season and on my own ranch!
    Loper joined the others and they hiked down into the brush and tall grass along Wolf Creek. They were not carrying shotguns, so it appeared that this was to be a practice day for the dog—who, of course, was out front and the center of attention, charging around in that Bird Dog Stealth pose of his.
    If you ask me, he looked silly.
    What’s more, I didn’t even care.
    I hadn’t planned on going anyway.
    Too busy.
    Show me a dog with a steady job and I’ll show you a dog that doesn’t have time to chase birds.
    Phooey.
    All at once I noticed that Drover was acting strangely. He was near the back of Billy’s pickup. It appeared that he had fallen over backward and was kicking his legs in the air. Clearly, something was wrong with the little mutt and he needed my help.
    I rushed to his side. “Drover, I saw the whole thing. You’ve been stricken with something terrible but don’t panic. Lie still and give me your symptoms.”
    â€œOh my gosh, thank goodness you made it! All at once I just lost control of my life.”
    â€œExactly. I have a couple of theories on that, but first let’s check out your vital signs. Heart?”
    â€œPounding like a drum.”
    â€œHmm. What kind of drum?”
    â€œWell, what are the choices? And hurry ’cause I think it’s getting worse.”
    â€œChoices? Let’s see: kettle drum, snare drum, bass drum, oil drum; bongos, congos, or kangaroos. Pick one, and hurry. I think you’re getting