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Saving Patchby
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The day Dad bought a spotted hound for my brother Kyle’s fourteenth birthday was when everything changed. For the worst. Before that Kyle and me did everything together. Even though he was only two years older than me, he was my hero.
Folks on our mountain were always saying, "That Kyle Ward is sure a fine boy." And he was. I wanted to be just like him.
"He’s a real coon dog," Dad explained when he let that wiggly bundle of dog out of the back of the truck that day. "Ask Hank if you can let him run with his dogs." Hank lives down the ridge from us and has a couple of the best coon dogs around. And he loves to teach greenhorns to hunt.
Kyle named his hound Patch, and after that it was just the two of them together, or else they were with Hank. So, I was left to fend for myself. Boy, was I lonesome. Then, on my thirteenth birthday, Dad brought me a little black and tan hound, and I felt like a brand new person. I called him Jake.
After that I started hanging around Hank’s place hoping he would ask me and Jake to go hunting, but several months passed and he never did. Finally, I asked him point blank. He looked up and down my skinny frame. "How old are you, Cody?"
"Thirteen."
"Well, I suppose you’re old enough to go, Dude." Hank calls everybody Dude.
I raced home to tell Kyle. He was out at the dog pens with Patch, as usual. "Hank said we could go tonight."
"Bummer," Kyle muttered.
"I thought you’d be glad," I muttered back.
He never said a word. Just kept on scratching Patch between the ears.
"Me and Jake’s been waiting a long time."
"You want to take that mangy fleabag on a hunt with real coon dogs?" Kyle sneered.
I glared at him. "Jake will learn if he can run with the others, just like Patch did." Kyle had gotten a real attitude since he’d been hanging around Hank.
"He couldn’t keep up with a poodle." Kyle snorted and stormed into the house.
I stared after him a minute, then shrugged and went to feed Jake. No use arguing with him. As I scooped food into Jake’s pan and filled his water bucket, I told him all about it. "Hank finally said we could go, boy. Ain’t that cool?"
A few minutes later I opened the back door and heard Kyle talking to Mom. "Me and Hank’s decided Cody’s old enough to go hunting with us, if it’s okay with you."
"That’s a great idea," Mom said. "But you will keep an eye on him, won’t you?"
"Sure, Mom," he said. "God will take care of us. We’ll be fine."
All through dinner he bragged about times he’d been in a jam and how he’d prayed. Like he was some spiritual giant or something.
"I appreciate your willingness to take your brother along," Dad said.
Kyle grinned from ear to ear.
I wanted to barf.
Later, as I was strapping on my hunting knife, Kyle came into my room and grabbed me by my sweatshirt. "Stay out of my way tonight," he snarled.
I wanted to yell, "Just forget it!" But I didn’t. Hank had said we could go and I wasn’t going to let Kyle’s attitude spoil things for me. "What’s with you?" I asked.
Without a word, he shoved me down onto the bed and slammed the door as he went out.
Just before dark Hank lumbered up the driveway in his battered old pickup. After coaxing Patch and Jake into a wire box in the back, the three of us squeezed into the cab and bumped up the ridge. Finally Hank stopped in a clearing, built a fire and turned the dogs loose.
Hank’s dogs, Lead and Blue, began running in circles, sniffing the ground. Patch and Jake followed. Finally Blue caught the scent of the raccoon and began his high pitched bay. Lead took up the chase with his lower one, then Patch and Jake began yapping somewhere in between.
"Now, that’s music to my ears," Hank said. "Don’t that sound like music?"
"Yeah," I mumbled and leaned back against a log. Kyle hadn’t said a word since we left home. He just humped up and stared into the fire.
It wasn’t long before Hank pulled out a bag of chewing tobacco, stuffed a wad into his mouth and handed the open bag to Kyle. I stared at him. Without even looking my way, my brother crammed a fistful into his jaw and handed the bag back to Hank. Hank grinned at me. "You want a chew, dude?"
"No, thanks," I said, and felt my stomach turn over. "Okay. Suit yourself." He slipped the bag back into his pocket.
The baying of the dogs echoed from the side of the ridge, then faded as they chased the raccoon toward the creek. I could hear Jake baying above the others, which should have made me happy, but it didn’t. I laid back against the log, closed my eyes and wished I hadn’t seen Kyle with that tobacco in his jaw. After awhile the crackling of the fire, the chirping of the night creatures and the baying of the dog pack blended together in a sound that was a kind of music. I began to feel what Hank felt. I relaxed against the log and let the music soothe my wounded feelings.
Suddenly Kyle jumped up and turned one ear toward the sound of the dogs. "I don’t hear Patch."
Hank listened. "He’s got sidetracked somewhere," he said after a moment. "What could have happened?" Kyle sounded worried.
Hank stood and flipped his flashlight on. "I reckon we’d better have a look." He ambled off through the woods.
"Cody, you stay here by the fire," Kyle said, then followed Hank. I didn’t want to stay by the fire. I wanted to go with them, but Mom had said to mind Kyle, so I stayed. Then I began to wonder. What could have happened to Patch? Maybe he’d decided to chase another varmint. No, he was a good coon dog. Maybe he was hurt. But then why should I worry. Maybe Kyle deserved to lose his dog. I sat back down on the log and stared into the fire. "Yeah," I whispered. "It’d serve him right if Patch never came back. He’s been a real jerk lately." But the thought didn’t give me no satisfaction. I couldn’t let it rest. If that was my dog, Jake, I’d want Kyle to help. I had to go look for him. Hank and Kyle had taken the trail to the right, so I switched my flashlight on and headed left.
After following a faint trail through the woods for about three hundred yards down the ridge I heard leaves rustling and a choking sound. I shined my light ahead. It was Patch. He was swinging by his neck from some tangled grapevines he’d tried to squeeze through. His back paws barely touched the ground, and every time he tried to put them down he’d swing out over a low bank. I ran to him. His eyes were bulging and he was making wheezing sounds. No telling how long he’d hung there.
I grabbed my knife and began hacking at the vines, but they were too tough. So I tugged on them. But they wouldn’t budge.
"Kyle! Hank!" I screamed, then tried to lift Patch up to help him breathe. But he was too heavy. What could I do? "Please, God," I cried. "Help me get him down."
"Kyle! Hank!" I screamed again. I pressed my ear to his chest. His heart was thumping kind of crazy like. Maybe if I loosened the vines around his throat I could save him.
"Cody! Where are you?" It was Kyle.
"Over here!" I grabbed hold of the tangled mess and began pulling. Soon I felt it slip. I pulled harder. Just as the vines let go and Patch dropped to the ground, Hank’s light shined through the trees.
"I told you to stay by the fire," Kyle thundered. "What are you doing down here?"
"It’s Patch." I pointed to the dog. He wasn’t moving.
"Patch?" Kyle ran and knelt beside him. "Aw, Patch, What’s wrong?"
Hank was right behind Kyle. "What happened?"
I showed him where the dog had hung. "He’s still breathing, I think."
Suddenly Patch coughed and began to whine. Hank knelt and examined him. "He’s coming around now. He’ll be fine. He’s a tough hound." He stood up. "If you hadn’t got him down when you did, he could have choked to death."
Kyle looked up at me. His voice trembled. "Thanks, buddy."
"Listen." Hank motioned for us to be quiet. The baying of the dogs had changed. "They’ve treed, dudes. It’s time to go see that coon." He started down the mountain.
"I’ll stay here with Patch," Kyle said. "You go on with Hank."
I turned to go, then stopped. I wanted to be with my brother as much as I wanted to see that coon, but then Jake was down there.
"Go, on," Kyle said. I’ll see you back at the fire." Then he leaned over and spit that chewing tobacco all the way down the bank.
I smiled and pointed my light toward the creek below.
Come back and see us!