The House of Usher

Kasey shivered with the cold, her slippered feet softly marching a path across the tile floor as she paced in front of the propane heater. The puppy she held nestled in tightly against her chest, taking tiny gasping breaths. The puppy was just two weeks old and had been fighting an upper respiratory condition for almost a third of its short life.

Not guppy breaths, Kasey silently begged. Anything but guppy breaths.

At first, the old farmhouse had seemed a bargain. She'd still had a substantial amount of money put aside from the insurance and, now that Steve had been gone long enough, the insurance company had paid out the policy that he had bought. But even that generous disbursement had not been enough to make the heating system in the century-old home last through the winter. She prayed that it would not cost her this puppy, her long sought after blue merle, this double great-grandson of Usher.

Kasey used the bulb syringe one more time, injected a little more normal saline solution under the puppy's tender skin. One more dose of antibiotics. He started breathing more easily. Not guppy breaths, then. He might still have a little life left in him. She replaced him in the whelping pen, next to his mother, near her elbow. Spice washed him thoroughly, nosing him closer so that he could nurse. Kasey waited to see if he would latch onto a nipple before heading to the couch for a nap. She'd be up again in an hour, just to see if he had gone to sleep with the Lord.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Winter passed, but the puppy did not. Spring saw a full complement of nine collie puppies playing in ex-pens in the yard. The puppy, now given the call name "Tarn," commanded the two other puppies in his pen, a sable male and a small (but lovely) tricolor female. These puppies were her "keepers," the puppies that she would "grow out" until they were old enough to compete in the variety ring. Roddy was almost five and it was time to look for his successor. She had her hopes pinned on this litter, at least for now. Tarn ran the perimeter of the pen, barking first at the other six puppies, then at the bleating sheep in the distance, before making the circuit in the pen again.

On the other side of the generous yard (which she graciously called "the lawn), were two sheep pens, an agility field, and an enclosure for ducks and geese. Below the agility field was an open ring that she used for training and for conformation handling classes. To its right, below the duck enclosure, was a large chicken yard. To the left of the lawn, settled between one sheep pen and the house, was a large space that was gradually becoming a garden, beyond that, a modest kennel with runs for six dogs. It was the perfect place to raise collies who would go on to have bright futures herding, running agility, and earning conformation titles. She could not have done it without Steve, although she would much rather have had him at her side.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Spring passed and, with it, Columbiana, Jackson (TN), Ruston, Marshall, and the two Gonzales weekends. She was no longer the newbie. Judges were giving her dogs a hard look in the ring. Her collection of rosettes had been growing, as had her reputation in the conformation, obedience, agility, and herding rings. The other six puppies had quickly gone on to good homes, as pets or otherwise. Tarn had made a quiet entry into the conformation ring, in no way suggesting that he was vying for his father's grand championship crown at any time soon. The best thing that could be said of his first show--the final show before she took the summer off--was that she had found a potential local buyer for the sable male. But such was the nature of dog shows and Roddie had also started slow.

A maroon SUV pulled up to the gate. The driver, directed by the posted sign, honked the horn to get her attention. The buyer was right on time. He pulled the SUV into the small lot that she'd made for the convenience of herding and handling students and shut off the engine. He had already rolled down all of the windows and was out of the vehicle when she met him in the lot.

"I could barely sleep last night," he said. "Imagine, I'm 52 and can't sleep because I'm getting a puppy!"

Kasey laughed. "I can't tell you how wonderful that sounds to me, Marco. I know that you'll love him."

"I know I will. I may be retiring, but I'm not ready for a rocking chair yet."

The two of them walked companionably toward the rear of the house, chatting about inconsequentials, him admiring the long, low porch that wrapped around two sides of her home. She settled him in next to the blanket-draped ex-pen that held his puppy and handed him the folder that contained the review copy of her puppy buyer contract before going into the kitchen for the sweet tea that she had promised for their meeting. When she returned, the signed contracts were already in the middle of the table and Marco was petting the puppy's head over the ex-pen panel. Kasey placed the tray with the pitcher, cups, and lemon wedges on the table.

"I know you're dying to get him out and I know we've already gone over most of the paperwork over the phone, but I thought that we could sit and chat about the other stuff that you'll need to know before you bring him home. It's just a formality. We know he's already going home with you."

Kasey was able to get Marco to focus for about 20 minutes before they let the puppy out of the ex-pen, and for another five after that. She bowed to the inevitable and suggested that they walk the puppy on a leash around the yard, just to get them acquainted before they left. Doing so was simply a matter of following her regular procedure. Marco was smitten with the gangly, half-grown puppy and the puppy had clearly forgotten that she even existed. A soft bark could be heard coming from the SUV in the parking area as they approached.

"That's my old collie, the rescue I told you about. It sounds like he's woken up. Is it okay if I let him out to do his business? He'll stay close to me."

Marco had been reluctant to leave his old dog at home, only to be surprised by the youngster coming in. She'd treated the request as though the old dog were a prospective student, asking for current health records before he came to visit. Everything had been fine.

"Sure. There's a public ex-pen set up over there." Kasey pointed to a sandy area off to one side of the parking area. "He can walk around a bit when he's done."

Marco opened the car door. Before she had a moment to catch her breath, Kasey was assaulted by a mass of burnished gold, as the dog leapt against her and tried desperately to lick her face.

"Bobby! Stop that! Get off!" Marco pulled at the dog's collar, forcing its feet to the ground. "I'm sorry, Kasey. He's never done that before."

Kasey couldn't tear her gaze from the dog in front of her. He was old now, almost ten, but there was no mistaking the shape of his head, even if it had faded and the ears no longer tipped evenly. The white marking that came high up onto the dog's left second thigh was still there. His coat was still full and luxurious, a testament to the care that he'd received over his lifetime, although he hadn't seen a pair of thinning shears for years.

"Usher?"

The dog circled her, bumping her hands for a pet or for a treat. Then he sat in front of her, patiently, looking up at her face, "manding" as he had been taught as a puppy.

"What do you mean, 'Usher'?"

"I mean that Bobby's name is, rather, was, "Usher." He was a show dog many years ago." Kasey dropped to one knee and cradled the old dog's face in her hands. "He has a storied pedigree and was a Gold AKC grand champion with over 600 points toward Platinum when he die-- when he disappeared. His owner hung the moon on him."

Kasey looked up at Marco. He seemed dubious, but she could see that fear was creeping in on him just the same. He tightened his grasp on the puppy's leash.

"It's okay. Steve has long since gone and no one knows that Usher is alive. As far as anyone knows, Roddy--your puppy's sire--is Usher's only son." Kasey rose to her feet, brushing away the fallen leaves that had stuck to her pants. "You've got yourself a wonderful dog in Bobby and I think that you'll be equally as happy with his grandson. If you're interested and have the time, why don't we order a pizza and talk about your dogs?"

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

• The House of Usher, Part One: https://shopping-feedback.today/fiction/the-house-of-usher
• The House of Usher, Part Two: https://shopping-feedback.today/fiction/the-house-of-usher-vs120hes%3C/li%3E%3C/ul%3E%3Cstyle data-emotion-css="14azzlx-P">.css-14azzlx-P{font-family:Droid Serif,Georgia,Times New Roman,Times,serif;font-size:1.1875rem;-webkit-letter-spacing:0.01em;-moz-letter-spacing:0.01em;-ms-letter-spacing:0.01em;letter-spacing:0.01em;line-height:1.6;color:#1A1A1A;margin-top:32px;}