COME HOME BARKLEY
Marilyn D. Anderson
Book #1 in the Barkley Series
Published by The Fiction Works
in the United States of America
http://www.fictionworks.com
Cover photo by
Images Photography
Mitchell, Indiana
Copyright 2012 Marilyn D. Anderson
Smashwords Edition
Originally published in paperback by Whispering Pines Publishing, 11013 Country Pines Road, Shoals, IN 47581
First edition, copyright © 1985 by Willowisp Press
Second edition, copyright ©1996 by Willowisp Press
Revised edition copyright © 2009
by Marilyn Anderson
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced without written permission, except for brief quotations to books and critical reviews. This story is a work of fiction. Characters and events are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
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Chapter 1
BARKLEY Boggs didn’t know that June sixth was going to be a terrible day. Oh, he had noticed his family putting a lot of stuff in boxes, and his master, Jamie Boggs, had tried to warn him. But the whiskery-faced dog still didn’t understand. He never guessed that his happy days on Elm Street were about to end.
That day Barkley went out for his usual morning walk. He chased the same rabbit out of the flower bed that he always did. He rounded up all the neighbors’ squirrels as usual. Then he headed on down the street for his daily inspection of smells.
Suddenly a huge blue truck roared around the corner, hogging the whole road and nearly hitting Barkley. The driver had the nerve to blow his horn, which made Barkley furious. From the safety of the curb, he barked angrily until the truck retreated. Then, proud of his victory, the dog went on with his business.
Everything else on Elm Street seemed to be in order. Before very long, Barkley set off for home at a swinging trot. His mind was on breakfast. He could almost taste the cup of meaty brown nuggets that would be waiting for him. Jamie would say, “Want some chow?” and Barkley would tilt his head back to one side and his right ear would stand up. He’d raise his right paw and bark just once as if to say, “Yes.” Then Jamie would say, “Good dog,” and he’d pour the food into the dish. Yum.
But as Barkley reached his house, he saw the same truck he’d tangled with earlier parked in his driveway. He rushed forward, barking and growling.
“Barkley, be quiet,” Mr. Boggs called out the window. “Jamie, you’d better tie up your dog before he bothers the movers.”
Immediately the boy hurried out with a rope to catch his dog, but Barkley saw him coming. Eyes flashing and tail wagging, Barkley dashed away. If there was one thing he liked better than breakfast, it was a good game of tag.
“Barkley, come here,” Jamie ordered. “This is no time for silliness.” The tone of Jamie’s voice took the starch out of the dog’s tail very quickly. In fact, he nearly dropped to his belly trying to apologize.
Now it was the boy’s turn to feel bad. “I’m sorry I yelled at you,” he said, giving the dog a big hug. “I’d like to play, I really would, but we’re moving.”
Barkley felt better then. He tried to lick Jamie’s face and to sit as close to his boy as possible. He wanted to be petted and thought maybe they’d play tag after all.
“Jamie,” Mrs. Boggs called, “you mustn’t take all day with that dog. Now please tie him up so you can help me.”
The boy sighed as he fastened Barkley’s rope to a tree. When Jamie left, the dog got very upset. He hadn’t done anything wrong, he knew. It was just that the truck was unfamiliar. He circled around and around the tree. His rope got shorter and shorter. Soon he was wedged tight against the tree.
Jamie reappeared, carrying Barkley’s dish. “You silly dog,” he said, putting the food on the ground. “You’ve got to settle down.” The boy unwound the rope while the grateful dog tried to lick him all over. “Here’s your breakfast. Now eat it,” Jamie said.
Barkley looked at the food and then at Jamie. He wasn’t interested in eating anymore. Besides, the boy hadn’t even asked him if he wanted it. Barkley could feel an excitement in the air that made him want to prance and whine.
“It’s all right, fella,” Jamie explained. “That truck is supposed to be here. It has to take our stuff to Indiana.”
Barkley sat and studied Jamie’s face more intently. “Yes, yes, you get to go, too,” the boy assured him. Then Jamie left again.
Frustrated, the dog trotted and sat, trotted and sat. He saw two strange men come out of his house carrying the Boggses’ sofa. Trembling with excitement, he barked at them to stop, but they paid no attention to him. Nervously he used his sharp claws to tear at the grass. His front feet made the dirt fly. Barkley was almost standing on his head in the hole he’d made.
About that time Mr. Boggs came by. “Barkley!” he yelled. “Stop that! Jamie, come here and move this dog.”
Barkley looked up at Mr. Boggs with a muddy grin and wagged his tail. Would Jamie’s father set him free? he wondered. Mr. Boggs just shook his head. Jamie untied the rope.
Joyously, Barkley jumped around and tried to drag Jamie toward the house. Instead, the boy took him to the garage. Barkley whined and begged when he saw he was being tied again. But it did no good.
“Maybe you can stay out of trouble here,” said Jamie as he started out the door.
Barkley got really frantic then. With strange men in his house, he just had to get loose. He tugged and fought the rope, leaping into the air in his desperation. Finally he saw that it was hopeless, so he flopped in a miserable heap. He felt like chewing on something. There was only one thing close by.
It took Barkley a long time for his teeth to work their way through the rope. It took even longer for him to realize he was free. Then he rushed to look out the door. Seeing no one, he slipped into the bushes that lined the walk. One of the strangers was carrying Jamie’s bicycle, and the dog followed. Staying behind the hedge, he kept out of sight until the bike was on the truck. Barkley watched the stranger return to the house.
Barkley went to examine the truck more closely, and what he saw troubled him. Everything the Boggs family owned was on board. If they were going somewhere, he didn’t want to be left behind. Carefully he slipped under Jamie’s bike and found a hiding spot. He crouched low when he heard someone coming.
“Hey, not so fast,” complained a man wearing old tennis shoes. “This chest is heavy.”
“Quit your griping. It’s not that bad,” said a pair of brown boots.
Barkley flattened himself lower and froze. He was well hidden except for one small problem. His tail was still in plain sight. Minutes later one of the men stepped on it.
With a help of pain Barkley pulled in his tail. The man yelped as he fought to keep his balance and failed. The man and the chest fell with a loud crack of splitting wood.
“You clumsy oaf,” shouted the brown boots. “You’ve knocked off one of the legs.”
“It wasn’t my fault. There aren’t supposed to be any dogs on the truck.”
“Dogs? Hey, get out of there, you mutt.”
Barkley cowered under pieces of furniture and tried to become invisible.
“Guess I’d better get the owner,” the brown boots continued. “You keep an eye on him while I’m gone.”
Jamie and his father came at once. Mr. Boggs was furious with Barkley. “You’re a real nuisance today,” he stormed. “Come on out.”
The dog cringed and shifted his feet. He was too frightened to show his face.
“Jamie, crawl in there and drag him out,” Mr. Boggs ordered.
The boy got down on all fours and started toward the dog. “Come on, fella,” he coaxed. “You can’t stay here. Dad’s got enough problems today without you acting up.”
Barkley held himself rigid so that Jamie couldn’t budge him. The boy refused to give up. They struggled until Jamie succeeded. Mr. Boggs snapped a leash on the dog.
“Now then,” said Jamie’s father, handing his son the leash, “don’t let Barkley out of your sight until we’re ready to leave.
“That’s good advice,” said one of the movers.
“We wouldn’t want to lock up your dog with the load.”
“What would happen to him if you did?” Jamie asked.
The man shrugged. “Well, look at it this way. This truck won’t get to Indiana for a couple of days, and we don’t feed pets along the way.
Jamie thought about that for a moment. Then he said, “Gee, I hope they feed pets on the airplane.”
Mr. Boggs said, “At the prices they charge, they’d better.”
“Why can’t we just take him in the car? It would be lots cheaper,” Jamie said.
“Son, we’ve been through that. It’s going to be a long, hot trip. We’d have to make stops along the way. He’d be a terrible problem,” Mr. Boggs said. He put his arms around Jamie’s shoulders.
“Maybe you’re right,” the boy admitted. “But I sure hate sending him off by himself.” Jamie shook his head. He bent down to pet Barkley. The dog licked Jamie’s fingertips.
Chapter 2
A few hours later the Boggs family was having a final look at their house on Elm Street. Jamie said sadly, “Too bad Mike’s at camp. I can’t even tell him good-bye.”
Jamie’s mother put her hand on her son’s shoulder. “I think it’s better this way,” she said softly.
“I hate good-byes,” his father agreed. “They only make everyone feel sad.” He didn’t say anything else for a few minutes. At last he opened the car and announced, “Barkley is due at the airport in an hour. Let’s get going.”
Immediately the dog leaped in. He was so happy to be invited along that he bounded from the front seat to the back seat. There he ran from side to side, pressing his nose against one window and then another.
Mr. Boggs sighed as he climbed into the driver’s seat. “And you wanted to take him all the way to Indiana in the car. Thank heavens I said no to that,” he said.
Barkley kept his nose planted against the car window for a while. Then he flopped down on the seat with his head in Jamie’s lap. The boy stroked Barkley’s rough coat and said, “You’re going on a long trip, fella. I won’t be able to see you for a while, but I’ll be thinking about you.”
The dog licked Jamie’s face and grunted happily. “I hope you won’t mind staying in that cage,” the boy added.
Catching the note of concern in Jamie’s voice, Barkley looked up, wondering. But he couldn’t guess what the words meant.
* * * *
Barkley hated the airport from the beginning. When Mr. Boggs stopped the car outside the main building and got out, Barkley decided he’d stay where he was. Unfortunately, Jamie wouldn’t let him do that. Instead, the dog was dragged out into the noisy crowds and confusion. He leaned hard against the boy’s legs for reassurance.
“It’s okay, Barkley. Really, it is,” Jamie told him.
Mr. Boggs took a big cage with wire windows from the trunk of the car. He put it on the sidewalk. People stared and walked around him. “Son, it’s time,” he said softly.
“Do we have to?” Jamie pleaded.
“Yes, this is best for everyone,” his father said firmly. “The next two days aren’t going to be much fun for any of us, I’m afraid.”
When they tried to bring Barkley to the cage, he pulled back as hard as he could. He pushed his feet against the sides of the cage, straining not to be shoved in. But Jamie and his mom and dad were too much for him. As the door closed, Barkley whined and scratched at the sides.
“He doesn’t like it in there,” Jamie said worriedly.
“I didn’t think he would,” said Mr. Boggs. “But he’ll settle down after a while. Did you bring his food?”
“It’s right here,” said Mrs. Boggs, holding up a paper bag. “Now, how are we going to get that big cage to the baggage room?”
“May I help you?” asked a voice at her elbow. They looked around to see a big man with bushy eyebrows standing behind her. He wore a uniform, and he stood next to something that looked like a golf cart. “I could take the cage for you,” he said.
Mr. Boggs nodded. “Yes, please do,” he agreed. “I’ll park the car and meet you in a few minutes.”
“All right, sir,” said the big man, lifting Barkley’s cage onto his cart. Frantically the dog scrambled from side to side, rocking the cage.
“Please be careful,” Jamie begged. “My dog is pretty scared.” The man in the uniform nodded. Jamie and Mrs. Boggs climbed into the cart. Mr. Boggs left in the car.
The cart took them right through the automatic doors and into a big glass building. They went down a long hall packed with people who stared. The dog crouched down in the cage. Next, the cart drove onto an elevator. As they dropped down, Barkley braced himself, wondering what would happen next.
“It’s all right, Barkley. It’s all right,” Jamie kept repeating.
At last the cart stopped. The driver carried the cage into a room. A woman sat behind a high counter. “May I help you?” the lady asked.
“Yes, we want to ship Barkley, our dog, to Indianapolis,” said Mrs. Boggs.
“Oh, sure,” said the lady, smiling. “Just fill out these papers, and I’ll take care of everything.” Mr. Boggs arrived as Mrs. Boggs finished filling out the papers. “Thank you,” said the lady. “Now, would you bring your dog this way?”
The big man lifted the cage once more. Barkley was taken into a room where several other cages sat. Mrs. Boggs handed over the bag of dog food while Mr. Boggs paid the man in the uniform.