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“Found him wandrin’ by the river,” he told them, and they all stood regarding the aged yellow dog who’d followed Vin into the saloon and was now sniffing about the floor.
“Whatcha gonna do with him?” J.D. asked. He’d always wanted a dog as a kid, but not one smelling like this, with one and a half ears and a squint.
Vin shrugged. “See if anyone in town wants to take him in.”
Ezra gave a snort. “That I doubt, Mr. Tanner. Your new friend is as ugly as a mud fence.”
"And you certainly don't want to know what that dog thinks of you," Buck said wryly.
“Don’t reckon you’ll get many takers,” Chris put in. “Ain’t no spring chicken.”
“Just needs feedin’ up and a bath.” That was Nathan’s view.
Chris’s eyebrow quirked. “Still won’t be no pup.”
“Age is not always a barrier, my friend,” Josiah rumbled.
“Well you take him then.”
The dog sat on its haunches and had a leisurely scratch.
“Whichever of you takes it,” came the voice of Inez from behind the bar, “please do so quickly, senors. Right out of here. It’s dirty and we don’t need to give our customers fleas.”
“Can I at least give him a bath out back?” Vin asked and because Inez had a soft spot for the Texan with the pretty smile she flounced a shrug of acquiescence. Even found the dog some meat scraps, let it drink from the bowl that caught drips under the pump.
The dog looked a somewhat brighter yellow when it was clean, but it still wasn’t even a tad pretty. Vin let it sleep in his wagon with him the first night but said he couldn’t take it on because it’d be too much of a tie. And it couldn’t ride a horse. The dog wasn’t so easy-going either. Seemed to have decided habits, whined some when things weren’t just right.
“I see you with a partner dog, cowboy,” he said to Chris, only half joking. “Trotting along by your side.”
But Chris said although he liked dogs fine, this one wasn’t for him.
“Buck, come on.” Vin was persuasive. “Help a feller out here.”
“Sorry, Vin, no can do. Just don’t think me and Gramps there would get along. Might growl at the ladies.”
Gramps was the name Buck had given the dog because of his graying muzzle and the stiffness in his legs.
“Reckon he’s a better Ranger than a Gramps,” Vin said.
Ezra snorted. “More like a Mr. Persnickety.”
“Would make a nice pair with you then.” Vin grinned at him, then turned to Josiah.
“Could help guard your church,” he tried.
“If I was to take the dog I’d call him Pilgrim,” Josiah said. “But I can’t, brother. He makes me sneeze.”
“And I ain’t got time,” Nathan put in quickly before Vin could get on his case.
Vin stood with his hands on his hips, wondering which way to turn.
“Listen,” J.D. said. “Reckon he won’t be around too long. I guess I could help out, although he won’t be allowed to sleep in the boarding house.”
“Means feeding and grooming him, kid,” Buck said.
“I know that, Buck, I’m not stupid.”
“My mistake,” Buck said, but he smiled, too, just a little proud.
J.D. called the dog Bat, of course. Looked after him just fine.
Sometimes Bat would just trot down the street side by side with Chris. Or lie on the church steps with his head on his paws and his squinty eyes on guard for any trouble coming Josiah’s way. He’d meet Vin when he came riding in from who knew where, and let Nathan’s patients pat him on the head. He’d even wag his tail when he saw Buck passing by with a lady on his arm.
And after a while Inez pretended not to notice Ezra scritching his one good ear under the table.
