Shaggy Dog's Arc

Chapter 1 of 1

Shaggy Dog loved mud puddles more than anything. But his fur worked against him. It hung in long white cords, like the head of a mop, and the cords drank up every drop of water they touched. He knew the danger this morning. Still, he saw the wide, dark puddle spread across the yard and could not stop himself. He jumped in. The splash felt wonderful. He rolled and dug and kicked brown water everywhere. Then he tried to climb out. His fur had turned into a hundred wet ropes, each one thick with mud. Every cord pulled him down. He shook hard, but the water clung tight. Cold crept into his skin. His legs shook. He wanted to run and play more, but he could barely lift his own body. He dragged himself toward the ranch house with the long porch and the low roof. Each step left a dark smear. He shivered on the bottom step and whined. The screen door swung open. Joseph, the rancher who owned this land, stepped out. He wore his wide hat and a red cloth at his neck. His boots thumped on the boards. He looked at the shaking, dripping dog and shook his head. "Look at you," Joseph said. "Heavy as a wet blanket." He crouched and pressed a hand into the tangled fur. Water squeezed out over his fingers. "You'll catch cold like this, boy." Shaggy Dog leaned against him, too tired to move. Joseph did not scold him again. He lifted the dog under the belly, grunted, and carried him onto the porch. He set him on the warm dry boards, out of the wind. Then Joseph went inside. He came back with thick towels and a pair of scissors. He knelt down and began to work. He rubbed each cord of fur, wringing the mud and water out. The towels turned brown. Shaggy Dog held still and watched. "These long cords hold too much water," Joseph said. He lifted the heaviest, dirtiest ropes near the dog's belly, the ones that dragged in every puddle. Snip. Snip. He trimmed them shorter. Not all of them. Just enough. The wet weight fell away in clumps. When he finished, Shaggy Dog felt lighter. His fur was still shaggy, still white, still ready for trouble. But the longest, thirstiest cords were gone. He stood up. His legs held steady. The cold no longer bit him. He barked once and spun in a happy circle on the porch. Joseph stood and gathered the muddy towels. "Lighter now," he said. "But you're still a mop, and a mop still soaks." He pointed his chin at the yard. "That big puddle out there? It'll catch you again if you're not smart about it." Shaggy Dog looked past the steps. The wide, dark puddle waited in the grass, shining and calm. He could feel how much he wanted to run straight back into it.