Read Online Skidboot 'The Smartest Dog In The World' by Cathy Luchetti - Free Book Online
Authors: Cathy Luchetti
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pastime imaginable. People at one with animals lived without pretension in a world of mute dignity. David was one of them.
David caught Russell's eye and grinned. He'd been lucky with this boy, a son to him, the cutest little guy he'd ever seen at age three, and they'd been close ever since. His wife didn't want more children, thought that childbearing was hard work and was done with it. Russell was the only son he'd ever have, and he enjoyed every minute of it.
Barks, sharp, increasingly desperate, hit the truck. Nuisance dog.
"Ok, Skid, hop in."
Nodding sunflowers followed the truck as it chugged down the back roads through Quinlan, West Tawakoni, Tawakoni South, Able Springs and Cash. Dust billowed behind. Alongside the road, young green shoots of mixed grasses shimmered, and the brown slush of winter had hardened into ruts that bumped and jammed beneath the tires. They passed fences mended with plywood planks and a bingo hall as bullet marked and peeling as the Alamo. Ahhh , David thought, long legs stretched out, blue sky ahead, dotted with innocent white clouds.
An hour later, he held a hoof in his lap, hammering away on a 7-year-old Friesian gelding, a smart and desirable breed, popular in Quinlan and surrounding ranches. This one had the cuticle of an elephant. Russell might enjoy seeing it.
"Russell, want to see this?"
Russell looked a bit sulky, scuffed his boot in the dirt. "Why don't you let me shoe him? You know I can do it."
David hesitated. A frisky, nervous horse…no, this wasn't the place to begin.
"Son, you can help me a lot just by keeping an eye on things." Russell shrugged in an enormous, teenage pantomime of angst, jammed himself back into the truck and made an elaborate show of falling asleep. Hat pulled low, he dozed.
David pulled, plied and hammered. The rim, thick and overgrown, needed a big trim and to do it, he needed his other hammer. "Russell," he shouted, "hand me the hammer."
Back to the car, hunched over his work, David felt a presence behind him, reached around and felt the cold nudge of the hammer.
"Thanks, son." He continued working, but felt the eager presence still behind him. The sun was nearly at noon so the shadows had shortened, but nothing would have shortened Russell's shadow to this size. Or given it a sharp nose and four paws.
"Skidboot?" David struggled around under the weight of the hoof. The gelding shuddered, suddenly spooked. Skidboot sat impassively by, staring at David with gleaming eyes.
Unbelieving, David yelled over to Russell but could see from the slouched hat that Russell was sleeping or pretending to. Hammer? Russell sighed, rudely interrupted. Then thumbed his hat lazily back on his head, and sat up. No, he had not gotten David the hammer.
They stared at the dog, and David, in full experimental mode, ordered Skidboot to take the hammer back to the truck
Skidboot processed the idea of "back" as opposed to "bring me" and, slightly smiling, bent down, gummed the wooden handle and dragged it back to the truck. He paused then because jumping up with the hammer was more difficult than jumping out. But the message was clear.
Here's your hammer. What now?
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
I had A Dream
David looked at the seat beside him and saw Skidboot, wearing dark glasses. The dog had his own seat; they were flying first class. Skidboot's dark glasses were too loose and kept sliding down, while David's own shades felt theatrical. He felt like a movie star, and he knew that these first class seats cost more than he made in a month. David sighed in contentment. Skidboot sighed too. In a few hours they'd meet a limo at the airport with a driver who held up your name so everyone could see that you had a limo.
The stewardess leaned close, offering them champagne. He didn't think Skidboot should drink but ordered one for him anyway. He could have two for himself, then. The stewardess made little pooch noises at Skidboot, who cocked an eye and stared back at her. People
David caught Russell's eye and grinned. He'd been lucky with this boy, a son to him, the cutest little guy he'd ever seen at age three, and they'd been close ever since. His wife didn't want more children, thought that childbearing was hard work and was done with it. Russell was the only son he'd ever have, and he enjoyed every minute of it.
Barks, sharp, increasingly desperate, hit the truck. Nuisance dog.
"Ok, Skid, hop in."
Nodding sunflowers followed the truck as it chugged down the back roads through Quinlan, West Tawakoni, Tawakoni South, Able Springs and Cash. Dust billowed behind. Alongside the road, young green shoots of mixed grasses shimmered, and the brown slush of winter had hardened into ruts that bumped and jammed beneath the tires. They passed fences mended with plywood planks and a bingo hall as bullet marked and peeling as the Alamo. Ahhh , David thought, long legs stretched out, blue sky ahead, dotted with innocent white clouds.
An hour later, he held a hoof in his lap, hammering away on a 7-year-old Friesian gelding, a smart and desirable breed, popular in Quinlan and surrounding ranches. This one had the cuticle of an elephant. Russell might enjoy seeing it.
"Russell, want to see this?"
Russell looked a bit sulky, scuffed his boot in the dirt. "Why don't you let me shoe him? You know I can do it."
David hesitated. A frisky, nervous horse…no, this wasn't the place to begin.
"Son, you can help me a lot just by keeping an eye on things." Russell shrugged in an enormous, teenage pantomime of angst, jammed himself back into the truck and made an elaborate show of falling asleep. Hat pulled low, he dozed.
David pulled, plied and hammered. The rim, thick and overgrown, needed a big trim and to do it, he needed his other hammer. "Russell," he shouted, "hand me the hammer."
Back to the car, hunched over his work, David felt a presence behind him, reached around and felt the cold nudge of the hammer.
"Thanks, son." He continued working, but felt the eager presence still behind him. The sun was nearly at noon so the shadows had shortened, but nothing would have shortened Russell's shadow to this size. Or given it a sharp nose and four paws.
"Skidboot?" David struggled around under the weight of the hoof. The gelding shuddered, suddenly spooked. Skidboot sat impassively by, staring at David with gleaming eyes.
Unbelieving, David yelled over to Russell but could see from the slouched hat that Russell was sleeping or pretending to. Hammer? Russell sighed, rudely interrupted. Then thumbed his hat lazily back on his head, and sat up. No, he had not gotten David the hammer.
They stared at the dog, and David, in full experimental mode, ordered Skidboot to take the hammer back to the truck
Skidboot processed the idea of "back" as opposed to "bring me" and, slightly smiling, bent down, gummed the wooden handle and dragged it back to the truck. He paused then because jumping up with the hammer was more difficult than jumping out. But the message was clear.
Here's your hammer. What now?
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
I had A Dream
David looked at the seat beside him and saw Skidboot, wearing dark glasses. The dog had his own seat; they were flying first class. Skidboot's dark glasses were too loose and kept sliding down, while David's own shades felt theatrical. He felt like a movie star, and he knew that these first class seats cost more than he made in a month. David sighed in contentment. Skidboot sighed too. In a few hours they'd meet a limo at the airport with a driver who held up your name so everyone could see that you had a limo.
The stewardess leaned close, offering them champagne. He didn't think Skidboot should drink but ordered one for him anyway. He could have two for himself, then. The stewardess made little pooch noises at Skidboot, who cocked an eye and stared back at her. People
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