My dear cousin died in my very back yard.
NEXT NIGHT, walking out where it happened, I found her little red bow.
I brought it in, threw it down on the table, said: My God my God.
Take a good look at it and also I'm looking at it, said Uncle Matt. And we won't ever forget it, am I right?
First thing of course was to find the dogs. Which turns out, they were holed up back of the--the place where the little kids go, with the plastic balls in cages, they have birthday parties and so forth--holed up in this sort of nest of tree debris dragged there by the Village.
Well we lit up the debris and then shot the three of them as they ran out.
But that Mrs. Pearson, who'd seen the whole--well she said there'd been four, four dogs, and next night we found that the fourth had gotten into Mullins Run and bit the Elliotts' Sadie and that white Muskerdoo that belonged to Evan and Millie Bates next door.
Jim Elliott said he would put Sadie down himself and borrowed my gun to do it, and did it, then looked me in the eye and said he was sorry for our loss, and Evan Bates said he couldn't do it, and would I? But then finally he at least led Muskerdoo out into that sort of field they call the Concourse, where they do the barbecues and whatnot, giving it a sorrowful little kick (a gentle kick, there was nothing mean in Evan) whenever it snapped at him, saying Musker Jesus!--and then he said okay, now when he was ready for me to do it, and I did it, and afterwards he said he was sorry for our loss.
Around midnight we found the fourth one gnawing at itself back of Bourne's place, and Bourne came out and held the flashlight as we put it down and helped us load it into the wheelbarrow alongside Sadie and Muskerdoo, our plan being--Dr. Vincent had said this was best--to burn those we found, so no other animal would--you know, via feeding on the corpses--in any event, Dr. Vincent said it was best to burn them.
When we had the fourth in the wheelbarrow my Jason said: Mr. Bourne, what about Cookie?
Well no I don't believe so, said Bourne.
He was an old guy and had that old-guy tenderness for the dog, it being pretty much all he had left in the world, such as for example he always called it friend-of-mine, as in: How about a walk, friend-of-mine?
But she is mostly an outside dog? I said.
She is almost completely an outside dog, he said. But still, I don't believe so.
And Uncle Matt said: Well, Lawrence, I for one am out here tonight trying to be certain. I think you can understand that.
I can, Bourne said, I most certainly can.
And Bourne brought out Cookie and we had a look.
At first she seemed fine, but then we noticed she was doing this funny thing where a shudder would run through her and her eyes would all of a sudden go wet, and Uncle Matt said: Lawrence, is that something Cookie would normally do?
Well, ah . . . said Bourne.
And another shudder ran through Cookie.
Oh Jesus Christ, said Mr. Bourne, and went inside.
Uncle Matt told Seth and Jason to trot out whistling into the field and Cookie would follow, which she did, and Uncle Matt ran after, with his gun, and though he was, you know, not exactly a runner, still he kept up pretty good just via sheer effort, like he wanted to make sure this thing got done right.
Which I was grateful to have him there, because I was too tired in mind and my body to know what was right anymore, and sat down on the porch, and pretty soon heard this little pop.
