It's a Helluva Job
Chapter 2

Copyright© 2013 by Anne N. Mouse

I wandered out of there with my head half in the clouds 'cause my mind was buzzing with all o' the things that Johnny had told me 'bout what was happening with my job (which at my age is more'n a bit dangerous) an' about missed my truck. I made the drive home with a little more situational awareness. I kept wondering what Johnny knew about my sex life and being amazed that he'd offered to take me with him when he was extracted. To some extent, my emotional turmoil lead me to be distracted, which meant that if'n someone had been wanting t' off me today would have been the day t' do it.

For more than sixty years, my family had been working to make the twenty acre plot where I'd grown up, an' now grown old, into a survival shelter. When I turned off the road I entered a hedge of black locust an' blackberry bramble that went over a low hill. It was about twenty feet high an' the same or a little wider. The first part of the drive was just enough to get off the road really. When I was off the main road, I had to turn sharply an' almost parallel the road for a couple of car lengths before turning around a hairpin turn for about the same length before I entered the inner sanctum of my place. Maybe a fire would have made it possible to assault the place over the wall that this represented. But I didn't think so, as the hedge (which surrounded the whole property) was irrigated in a way to keep it from drying out. I made a final turn into what would have made a nice intensive survival farm if I'd put my mind to it.

Sheba was pacing the edge of her run that was nearest to the drive, waiting impatiently for me to get out of the truck an' give her the attention she deserved. I got myself out of my truck an' set my lunch box on the porch. I unlocked the gate to Sheba's paved yard an' she picked up the hunk o' rubber that is her fetch toy an' put it in my hand as she exited the yard.

I'm not a small man an' Sheba's not a small dog. What her ancestry is I'm not sure except at least part of it is Rottweiler or mastiff; anyway, on a poor day she masses about 70 kilograms give or take a couple, an' she's 'bout as black as a raven's wing only not so shiny. I tossed that hunk of rubber around for her for 'bout thirty minutes an' then she dropped it an' headed up on the porch. I don't know 'bout other dogs, but Sheba's 'bout as smart as anything I've seen in all my life. Sheba picked up my lunchbox in her mouth on her way through th' dog door. She took it with her, an' in a couple o' minutes she was back with her leash an' collar.

This indicated that I was gonna take her for a walk or she'd do something else to make sure I got my exercise. Sheba's the latest of about 5 dogs I've had since I was a youngster here in this very house. But as I say she's gotta be the smartest dog I ever did see. When I'd picked her up as a pup I didn't know what I was getting. A new dog is always a crapshoot to some degree. Anyway I was out o' shape 'cause driving's a pretty lazy job. I'd not had a terribly active dog for the three or four years before I got Sheba. The dog she was replacing had been old and frail. So there I was with a pup, an' me pushing sixty years old, an' probably pushing close to a hundred an' fifty kilos to boot. A puppy requires exercise an' Sheba seemed to have been born with retriever instincts 'cause she took to running an' fetching from the time I brought her home.

I didn't have th' paved an' fenced yard then 'cause my old dog had never been much of a wanderer. But Sheba was an explorer from the time I got her. I tried, at first, to keep her on a chained run that I'd put up for another dog that I'd had; one which had preferred to run rather than stay in th' confines of my farm. Sheba had undermined one o' the posts on that run by the end o' the first day I was away an' looked to be starting on the second. So I took some vacation days an' I set forms an' 'bout kilt myself putting in an acre o' yard with a high hurricane fence an' a concrete floor to keep Sheba from digging her way out to go exploring.

I took the leash an' collar from Sheba an' slipped th' collar 'round her neck an' hooked up the leash. I didn't need it 'cause Sheba seemed to be a natural heeler too. But rules is rules, to a degree. An' I wouldn't flout most o' 'em for enertainment. Therefore I would keep (an' always had kept) Sheba on a leash while I took a walk with her. I knew it was her taking care o' me too 'cause if'n she'd just wanted to run some more I could'a continued to throw her fetch toy.

But somehow she understood that I needed to walk in order to be healthy an' she wouldn't let up on me 'til I was walking with her every day. At first I could hardly make the trip through the maze of my driveway and back without feeling like my heart was going to quit on me. Six years have passed since I got Sheba and I've lost about fifty kilos of fat that I'd spent a good deal of my life gaining. Most days now I could and did walk about a mile total without having to stop every hundred feet to let my heart stop feeling like it was going to burst. I'd never be in the shape I'd been at twenty-one when I spent better than six months walking out of Central America. I hadn't dared try to call home since I didn't want to tip off the folks I'd been watching that I'd been there. But the weight loss and exercise did me good and now I gladly accompanied Sheba down my driveway. She might heel and not run about pulling on the leash, but I had no doubt that she always set the distance and direction of our walk.

The way that Sheba held her head and tail up as she escorted me you might think that she was walking with the king of the Earth. We turned left when we reached the road that ran by my property. The farm where my grandfather had lived had been subdivided, on his death between me 'n my sibs as my mother had been an only child. The house that my grandfather had lived in that was this direction when I was growing up was now gone. It had been replaced by a more modern house, and a horse boarding operation. We turned left when we reached the road that ran by my property.

I noted as I walked that I was going to have to bring my tractor out to mow the sides of the road. It was starting to look like my front hedge was trying to overgrow the road as it did with great regularity. Sheba and I ambled to the corner of my property, which was about 200 meters from the entrance to my driveway. As a slight breeze was blowing from the direction we were walking, I wondered if Sheba smelled something interesting in this direction.

I was feeling well when I reached the corner of my property and, while she might not be tugging at the leash, Sheba was showing no signs of turning around. I really expected her to insist that I walk at least a half mile out and a half mile back. Therefore I continued my stroll, until we got to the drive that led to the horse boarding operation. I expected this to be our turnaround point but when I started to make a turn Sheba leaned against my leg, telling me that my walk had been increased in length.

We were about half way between the driveway to the horse operation and the corner of that property when we met a young blond woman out jogging with her dog. It was an unaltered male yellow lab that was only slightly smaller in height than Sheba, though I estimated he weighed a good twenty kilos less than her. He greeted her the way any dog will do meeting another, especially a whole male with a bitch. He headed for Sheba's tail and sniffed her. She permitted this and made an acquaintance with him as well. However when the dog took a shot at licking Sheba's vulva she sat down double quick.

The woman Lori I knew slightly, as her driveway was probably a full kilometer and a half from mine. She ran a kennel and dog breeding operation. "Joe," she said, "I didn't expect to see you."

"Lori," I said, "I expect that Sheba brought me this way 'cause she had an idea you were out."

"You talk like you think that dog is match-making," Lori laughed as she jogged in place, "but she sure does refuse to let Duke get more than a sniff."

"Every time I go walking out with her I seem to meet an apparently eligible young lady," I said.

Lori blushed a bit and said, "I do think that you're a handsome fellow."

I'd often wondered, though I'd never asked, what she found particularly attractive about me. I was certain she was at least thirty years my junior and most likely closer to forty years my junior. Today though, after Johnny's talk with me, I decided to ask, "Lori, I'm old enough to be your father if not your grandfather. What do you see in me?"

Lori pinked up a bit more and said, "Hmm that's tough in a way. You have a dog that is well behaved and at your age a youngster like her must have been a challenge. Since we were told that the Sa'arm will attack Earth, most every woman is thinking about how to get off the planet if she doesn't have a high enough CAP score to be extracted as a Confederacy volunteer. Anyway, I've watched you with Sheba and know you care an awful lot for her. It seems to me that a woman can make an educated guess as to how a man will treat her if she watches him with his dog.

 
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