“WAIT, Boomer! WAIT!” Oreo called. “That is way too far for me to go. First off, my little legs won’t keep up with you or Ruth, secondly my Mom won’t like it if I leave this area. I’m only supposed to go so far this way, so far that way, and so-far any other way.” Oreo sat down in a dejected little lump of soft black and white fur. “I just can’t go” he said tragically.
I walked over and put my paw on his soft little should, “No worries, Oreo. I can do this. I have Ruth and, if I have too, I’ll run back to the farm house and get Mom, Dad, or the both of them.”
Oreo looked up at me with the sweetest, saddest little black beady eyes, “I’m so sorry, Boomer.”
“It’s been good to know you, Oreo. Let’s bump paws and hope to meet again someday.” We bumped paws, I turned tail, looked up into the sky….way, way, up into the sky; located Ruth, the Wisest Owl of All Time, kicked my hind legs into gear and I was OFF!
I ran up Coyote hill, always keeping Ruth insight, then I ran over the top of Coyote hill, when I noticed Ruth was circling and circling coming closer and closer….that’s my signal, I thought. The camp is near.
I put my belly to the ground and started slinking from one Rabbit brush to another Rabbit brush, making sure my shadow stayed out of the sunlight just incase the people in the camp happened to look UP onto the side of Coyote hill.
Ruth fluttered down into a large old dried out brush a few yards from me. “SHHHHHHHHH,” she whispered, one feather placed on her beak. She looked at me, then swiveled her head clear around and pointed with her wing—right here her feathery wing said. Right here.
I crept closer and closer…when I was right under Ruth’s perch, I looked down into the little valley between Coyote Hill and the hill where the old Apricot Orchard still kinda grows.
There they were! Two men…a blue type of tent pitched right in the opening, junk strung all over the place…fried chicken boxes, taco papers caught in the sage brush, smashed beer cans and some shattered bottles flung up against a rock, little shards of glass sparkling in the sunlight.
There was a little camp stove sorta thing and the men lounging around SMOKING Cigarettes!
This is bad! Very Bad!
I signaled to Ruth to follow me. She raised up into the sky, on silent wings, and I crept backwards until I could get to curve around Coyote Hill. At that point I trotted to the farm road and the old apricot tree.
Ruth settled into the branches of the Apricot tree. “I’m heading back to the house,” I announced. “This is bigger than You or I can handle by ourselves. I’ll get Dad, or Mom, or Dad and Mom. Can you stay here and keep an eye on them for me? I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Ruth shook her head yes and settled into the tree looking all the world as much as a branch as an owl can.
I gave her one last look; glanced at the draw, where the men were living, looked over, way over, way, way, over to the farm house picked my paws up and headed home to get Dad, or Mom, or Dad and Mom.