Brown Dog

She found us, as some dogs will. She was running on the gravel along the river following some tubers who had to walk because the river was low. We were sitting on the bank with our feet in the water, and she came up to us wagging her bob-tail and said hello. She gave Trudy kisses.

Later that evening, she saw us from far off and came dashing up the stairs to greet us again as we were sitting in front of the cabin. She said hello to me. She gave Trudy kisses.

That night, she slept most of the night outside our screen door curled up on the porch overlooking the river the river. The next day her collar and dog tags were gone. Trudy, who had been worried, became alarmed. She seemed not to belong to anyone, yet she knew the place much too well to be a visitor. I figured she belonged to the owners of the cabins. Trudy went to investigate.

"What color is she?" they asked at the store on top of the hill.

"Brown."

"Does she have a tail?"

"No. She has a cropped, bob-tail."

"Oh, that's Brown Dog," they said. "She belongs to some people near here. She doesn't like to be cooped up."

They told Trudy they'd call the owners. So Trudy returned to the cabin (with her cold Fresca and Klondike bar in hand) feeling much better, although it was dark and unlikely that the owners would come by so late.

That night, Brown Dog slept outside our door again, encouraged no doubt by the hamburger we shared with her.

In the morning she escorted us as we walked down to the river for one last swim. She dashed around Trudy and headed straight for the water. It was hot and muggy, and the water must have felt wonderful. She walked in up to her neck and kept on going, swimming to the other side.

We swam for 45 minutes or so. No one else was there. The clear water beside the ancient Cypress trees was deep and blue-green. There were dozens of catfish swimming at the bottom, sunfish in the shallower places and neon-green minnows by the shore that turned to neon-blue when you looked at them from underwater.

As we swam, Brown Dog walked in the water on the other side, watching the fish and sometimes trying to grab one. She came back across when we got out, choosing the rapids this time where she could run across instead of swimming.

And when we drove up the hill to check out, she got to the porch of the office before us. Trudy paid our bill, and she made sure that they knew that Brown Dog was still there.

As we walked out to the car. She seemed to know the routine. She came up to us and said goodbye, wagging her bob-tail uncertainly. And she gave Trudy kisses.

And then we got in the car and started our long drive home.

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Neal's Lodges on the Rio Frio
Concan, TX

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