Don't Poke the Bear!

Chapter 10

WHEN ME AND the two young men get back to the Spur, I'm shocked to find Gentry sittin' beside the bear, strokin' him, talkin' in his ear. I cross the floor quickly and say, "I wouldn't get that close, honey. He could kill you with one swipe of his paw."

"Rudy's a big baby," she says. "He wouldn't hurt a fly."

"My experience with bears is to assume they'll kill you first chance they get."

"Rudy's a circus bear, Emmett. He's been around people his whole life. He probably doesn't even know he's a bear."

I point to the empty bucket between them. "What's that?"

"It used to be table scraps. Rudy was starving!"

I'm uncomfortable with her bein' that close to Rudy, but he does seem taken by her sweet affection. I can understand that. I also understand when I'm wastin' my breath talkin' to Gentry, and this is one a' them times. So I go back to the card tables awhile and visit my gamblers. Then I go to the bar, and mix with the patrons. My main purpose here, besides ownin' the place is standin' guard. But even though Dodge City's one of the roughest towns in the west, I don't get much trouble from my regulars. And there ain't been any strangers in town lately, other than Vlad and Sergio, who are both dead.

Before closin' time, Gentry-who hasn't left Rudy's side all night-says, "It's time to take him outside to do his business."

"How do you know?"

She wrinkles her nose. "He ain't that different from you, when it comes to giving a warning sign."

I lead Rudy down the street as gently as I can, so as not to hurt his nose. When I get past the last wagon rut, we stop, and I wait for him to do his business.

He obliges.

"You're a well-trained bear," I say, then turn around and find us facing a snarlin' dog. I don't recognize the animal that's threatenin' us, and Rudy don't seem to care. There was a time I would a' shot the dog for growlin' at me and not lettin' me pass, but I've softened my tone toward killin' animals since then.

I stand aside to see what's gonna happen. I feel bad for purposely allowin' Rudy to either get bit or kill the curr, but I figure it's good information for me to have, either way. It'll show me how Rudy responds when provoked, and might possibly teach me how he fights, which could come in handy, in case he attacks me someday.

The dog jumps on Rudy, who just lets it happen. When I see Rudy refuse to fight back, I chase the dog away. Rudy ain't hurt, but would a' been, had I allowed it to continue.

Next mornin' Doc walks in the door and says, "What happened to your piano?"

"I shot it."

"Always heard you was a good shot. What was you aimin' at, a fly?"

"Nope. Just the piano."

"Well, I'd say you killed it."

He follows my look across the room and does a double-take.

"That your horse?"

"It is."

"I don't work on bears," he says.

"We're cash customers, Doc."

"Who's gonna hold it down?"

"Me, Gentry, and Wing Ding."

He looks at Rudy. "Ain't gonna be enough."

"He's a circus bear," I say.

Doc Workday walks with me to take a closer look. Since last night, I've managed to work a couple of very loose lines around Rudy's shoulders and arms that can be pulled quickly from behind to pin him down and keep him from flailin'. But poor Rudy is so used to bein' mistreated, he don't even bother to move the ropes off himself. It's pathetic, really.

"What bastard put that rope in his nose like that?"

"His trainer did that when he was six months old. It's why you're here."

"What d'you mean?"

"That's what you're goin' to remove."

"Bullshit!"

"Doc, look at him. He's so used to mistreatment we probably won't even have to hold him down."

He leans in a little closer. "That nose is infected. Probably been infected off and on his whole life."

Gentry comes up behind us. "Rudy needs you, Doc. It wouldn't be right to let him keep suffering."

Doc turns to Gentry and removes his hat. "This a dancin' bear?"

She don't bother to correct him. "He's retired."

He nods. "I won't be party to patchin' up an animal that's only gonna be abused."

"You'll get none of that here," I say, pointin' across the way to the six holes in the piano."

Doc Workday smiles. "You'd shoot a piano to keep this bear from havin' to dance?"

"I would. And if you walk in playin' a mouth harp, I'll shoot that, too."

He looks around. "Where's Wing?"

"I'll get him."