Coming Home

~ posted by Betsy

This is the story of a dog named Flash…an angry horse…five children who disappeared…and southern hospitality.

Early one afternoon, Rubia was outdoors performing canine ministry on one of the neighbor’s dogs. Poor “Tough” spends all his time outdoors, and his burr-infested coat lends testimony to this. Rubia had taken one of our dog grooming combs and was patiently combing out as many of the burrs as she could.

Nearby, our other neighbor’s basset hound, “Flash,” watched the proceedings. Before long, he became restless at Tough’s unavailability, and looking around for some other amusement, he spotted…the Horse.

Poor unsuspecting equine came strolling across his field, stopping close to the cattle fence. Flash’s tail twitched. With gleaming eye, he propelled his stout, furry body through the fence, oblivious to the barbed wire, and approached Horse. He began barking, and nipping, and weaving playfully between the horse’s legs. Soon he was joined by Tough and Cowboy, and all three dogs took up the teasing game with gusto.

Photo Credit: Ben.

Horse had enough. Snorting furiously, he whipped around, legs and tail flying. A canine scream filled the air, as Horse’s leg smacked against a small, long basset body. A second leg flattened Flash even closer to the ground than he usually is. Moaning, Flash took off, limping and yelping, dragging himself in the general direction of his home two ranches away.

Needless to say, Rubia was convinced Flash had gone off to die. I gently assured her that he would probably be fine, other than having a sore body and a bruised ego. In any case, I pointed out, he had surely learned his lesson and would think twice about taking on a horse hereafter.

Later that evening, Josiah approached me as I stirred the dinner macaroni. “Mom, Flash hasn’t come around ALL DAY. You know he’s ALWAYS here!” His large brown eyes searched my face, long lashes blinking rapidly. “Do you think I could just ride my bike down the road to Flash’s house, and just see if I see him anywhere around? Please??” I agreed that he could go, if he took one of his siblings with him…and came quickly right back home.

Photo Credit: Roma.

So Josiah and Roma jumped on their bikes and headed down the country road toward Mr. H’s farm. I covered the macaroni and cheese and pulled green beans out of the freezer. A short while later, Josiah and Roma returned. “We didn’t see him anywhere!” they chorused in alarm. By now, the western sky was aflame with fuschia and gold—a glorious Texan sunset.

The absence of Flash from our home for longer than 15 minutes could only mean the worst. Ever since we moved here in December, that dog forgot he already had a home; not to mention a mate and pups. This absence was monumental, and must be explained. I agreed to another expedition…this time, Josiah and Roma and Rubia would all ride together to Mr. and Mrs. H’s farm, traverse the long winding dirt lane up to the farmhouse, knock on the door, and explain the events of the day to Flash’s owners. Surely they would appreciate knowing what had happened to their precious pup, who undoubtedly was lying in a mangled heap in their barn, barely breathing, if at all. The three amigos agreed to deliver the message…and come quickly right back home.

Ben strolled into the kitchen awhile later as I cautiously pulled steamed beans out of the microwave. “What’s for dinner?” he asked. I told him. He smacked his lips in approval. “Where is everybody, anyway?” I explained about the biking trio. Bianca looked up from her ipod. “Isn’t it getting really dark out?”

I glanced out the back window and my eyes widened. “Oh, my word! How did it get so dark so fast?!” I had visions of my young son plowing his bike into a pecan tree in the pitch dark. Out in the countryside, dark is DARK. No streetlights…houses farther apart than they look. Narrow winding roads with potholes just waiting to grab your bike tires. Not good.

“Ben, please hop on your bike and ride out there and get your siblings!”

“Yes, ma’am.” Ben strolled toward the coat closet. I called after him, “…and come quickly right back home!”

You’re getting the picture, aren’t you? They did not come quickly right back home. As the macaroni cooled and the green beans wilted, I turned to Bianca in desperation. “Could you please take the car, drive over to the H’s, and find your siblings?!” Happy to be of service—especially when it involves driving or meeting new people—Bianca roared down the driveway, gravel crunching beneath the tires.

And I waited. Poured the milks. Lit the candle. Gazed out at the blackness, fingers strumming on the granite countertop. I opened the door, listening. No sound of childlike voices calling in the night. No dogs barking, nor horses whinnying. No cattle lowing. No coyotes howling. Just dark silence.

Then I remembered that Bianca had the presence of mind to take a cell phone with her. Oh glorious day! Two seconds later, I was on the phone with Roma. “Oh-Mommy-I’m-so-sorry-Bianca-is-just-giving-the-H’s-our-phone-number-we’ll-be-there-in-just-a-minute-so-sorry!”

And before long, Roma whirled into the house, explanations ahead of her by ten feet. Everyone was just fine…they were all on their way…it was so dark! but Bianca lit the way with the car headlights, and Mr. and Mrs. H were just the nicest people, and did I know that three generations of family had lived in that house once upon a time?! Mr. H. had been so happy to see them all, and he had invited them to sit and talk awhile and it was just so hard to leave they seemed thrilled with company. And his wife was the sister of the father of the wife of the man who had lived in our house! And we all need to go back and visit them again soon, right Mom?

I listened, heart warmed by the kindness of neighbors. “What about Flash? Is he okay?”

“Flash?” Roma repeated. “Oh, Flash! Flash is just fine. He came running to see us when we got there. I told Mr. H about him getting trampled and he just drawled, ‘Oh, he’ll be jest fine.’ And that was that! What’s for dinner??”

I am re-learning some lessons of country life. Well-groomed dogs are a rarity, but joyful playful ones are plentiful. A neighbor’s dog will love you forever if you remove a few burrs from his fur. Even the most patient of horses has his limits, and will let you know what those are. Sturdy souls will rise again, even when life unexpectedly kicks them down. Darkness swallows up the day suddenly…but leaves the memory of a gorgeous sunset imprinted on your heart.

Most importantly, if you plan to visit a neighbor, you’d best not be in a hurry. You will be greeted with joy, welcomed inside, chatted with at length, and perhaps fed sweet tea and pralines. You will arrive as a new acquaintance, and will leave as a friend. And you won’t even mind the soggy dinner awaiting you…as you stroll slowly right back home.

“Each of us is to please his neighbor for his good, to his edification.”~  Romans 15:2