Shiloh: Chapters 5-8

A soft yip of pure joy cuts off quick when I say “Shhh!” but as soon as I’m in the pen, Shiloh’s leaping up almost shoulder high to lick my cheek, nuzzling my hands, my thighs.

Just out of the woods on the other side of the hill, there’s a meadow, and I slump down in the grass to rest.

I giggle and roll over on my stomach, covering my head and neck with my arms.

When I get back home, supper’s on the table, and I slip into my chair just as Dad asks the blessing: “Dear Lord, we thank you for the food you’ve provided for our table. Bless it to nourish the good within us. Amen.”

“You seem restless, Marty,” Ma calls.
“Me? Heck, no. I got lots to do.”

Gradually the kitchen clatter dies down.

Gradually the kitchen clatter dies down.

As usual Becky and Dara Lynn whoop and tumble around in the grass, glad for an audience, and after I sit a respectable amount of time, I say, “Think I’ll take my .22 and go up the far hill awhile.”

The only sound you can hear is the swishing of Shiloh’s tail, hitting the fence, the soft pad of his paws as he leaps up in the air in sheer, pure happiness; the sloppy slap of his jowls together as he gobbles down the supper I’ve brought him and then he commences to slobber love all over me as well.

The only sound you can hear is the swishing of Shiloh’s tail, hitting the fence, the soft pad of his paws as he leaps up in the air in sheer, pure happiness; the sloppy slap of his jowls together as he gobbles down the supper I’ve brought him and then he commences to slobber love all over me as well.

The only sound you can hear is the swishing of Shiloh’s tail, hitting the fence, the soft pad of his paws as he leaps up in the air in sheer, pure happiness; the sloppy slap of his jowls together as he gobbles down the supper I’ve brought him and then he commences to slobber love all over me as well.

The only sound you can hear is the swishing of Shiloh’s tail, hitting the fence, the soft pad of his paws as he leaps up in the air in sheer, pure happiness; the sloppy slap of his jowls together as he gobbles down the supper I’ve brought him and then he commences to slobber love all over me as well.

The only sound you can hear is the swishing of Shiloh’s tail, hitting the fence, the soft pad of his paws as he leaps up in the air in sheer, pure happiness; the sloppy slap of his jowls together as he gobbles down the supper I’ve brought him and then he commences to slobber love all over me as well.

But before I went to bed, when Ma asked me again about that rabbit, I gulped and said yes, and she made me get down on my knees and ask God’s forgiveness, which wasn’t so bad.

“Jesus,” I whisper finally, “which you want me to do? Be one hundred percent honest and carry that dog back to Judd so that one of your creatures can be kicked and starved all over again, or keep him here and fatten him up to glorify your creation?”

If Jesus ever comes back to earth again, I’m thinking, he’ll come as a dog, because there isn’t anything as humble or patient or loving or loyal as the dog I have in my arms right now.

David, in fact, likes to go to the very top of that hill and then go running lickety-split down it, racing to see who’s first to the fence at the bottom. Likes to climb the trees up there, too, and play lookout.

“You said just the other day you had plenty to do here,” Dad tells me, wringing out his rag at the pump.

When I have my fill of this nonsense, I decide to go up the hill and see how Shiloh’s doin’, but as I go down off the porch, Dara Lynn gits up and makes as if to follow me.

I’d tended to Shiloh first, taking a fistful of scrambled eggs left over from breakfast, a bit of bacon, and a half slice of whole wheat toast that I stuck in my jeans pocket.

I know I don’t have to unless I want, but if he’s already suspicious about me, that’ll only make it worse.

“Well, I don’t think he’d stick to roads,” Judd says, “Not a dog as shy as him. Shy as a field mouse, ’cept when he’s around rabbits. That’s what the man said who sold him to me, and he sure was right about that.”

“You got to treat a dog good if you want him to stick around,” I say, bold as brass.

“Well, if that was true, I would have run away when I was four. Far back as I can remember, Pa took the belt to me—big old welts on my back so raw I could hardly pull my shirt on. I stuck around. Didn’t have anyplace else to go. I turned out, didn’t I?”

“Well, if that was true, I would have run away when I was four. Far back as I can remember, Pa took the belt to me—big old welts on my back so raw I could hardly pull my shirt on. I stuck around. Didn’t have anyplace else to go. I turned out, didn’t I?”

I told Ma once the Howards had a room just for company, a room just for books, and a room just for plants, and she said that was three rooms too many. First time I ever saw any envy in my ma.

Instead I feel something cold and round and plastic, and when I look, it’s a fishbowl with sand in it and a hermit crab, scurrying around with a shell on its back.

I’m so hungry I don’t even save some for Shiloh; then I’m ashamed of myself.

Ma would have blushed with shame if she heard me ask this, but seems I’m at the point where I’ll do most anything for Shiloh.

I blush then, ’cause my dad would die of embarrassment if he knew what Mr. Wallace is thinking—that I’m buying this food for our supper, but there’s no way in the world I can let on about Shiloh.

I give him all the change I got, and he lets me have a big hunk of cheese, moldy on one side, a carton of sour cream, and half a package of frankfurters that somebody opened and bought five of.

Only had the dog for six days, and that evening I find out that Judd Travers wants to hunt on our land. Up the hill and over in the far woods. Thinks maybe he could find himself some quail over there, he says.

I’m thinking how maybe Judd Travers has hold of the idea that I got his dog hid up there and he’s looking for an excuse to snoop around.

Dara Lynn’s wore her new sneakers home and got a blister already, but she don’t care, she’s so glad to have something new.

“Folks think they got a remedy for something, they’ll tell it to you whether you need it or not,” I say.