Farm Dog

Jonah and I sat in the long grass at the top of the hill, where Papa demanded we go if we were to watch him. I rested my head on Jonah's shoulder, unable to admit I didn't want to see our good ole farm dog be put out of his misery. Jonah had seen it once before, when I was too small to remember.
He'd told me it was an accident he'd seen; that he had glanced out the window the same second 'Papa sent him back to God' as he put it. He told me he wished Mama had distracted him, or called him away from the window.

Cranberry, a Kangal Shepard who we named for his love of Mama's Cranberry muffins, was only a few weeks old when we found him.
Papa had taken Jonah and I along to talk to a man about fixing up our old truck. Since we were so much younger then, being only five and four and a half, the man asked his son to show us their horses in the barn to disport us. I was far too timid to touch them, so I only watched while the son busted Jonah up to stroke a dark coated horse's nose.
The son told us all sorts of facts about the horses as we meandered about in the barn; which breeds they were, when they'd gotten them, and even which ones gave them trouble.
When Jonah went to pet the horse in the final stall, a loud yelp came from just outside the barn. I inched closer to the stall door as the son turned.
He then smiled and set Jonah down, "Just a pup," He said, immediately settling my nerves. He went out, knelt down and picked up a scruffy, cream and dark brown puppy, propping it up so it's forepaws rested on his shoulder. It tried to climb higher and sniff his ear as he stepped forwards.
"What kind of pup is it?" Jonah asked,
"It's a uh, Kangal Shepard I think, one of them ones that get real big," he answered, again kneeling down to our heights.
"Oh, Papa told me about them! He said they get to be as tall as a grown man," Jonah nodded, his eyes wide.
The three of us stood silently in the barn, marveling over the puppy for a good five minutes before Papa came looking for us. A chuckle came from behind Jonah and I and we quickly turned. Papa and the man both stood as silhouettes in the doorway, hands on their hips. "You boys ready to go?" Papa slowly began to walk over, leaving the man at the barn door. The two of us protested, saying we needed to stay to pet the puppy.
"We can't stay all day, we gotta get back home," Papa reminded,
"But look," Jonah began, taking the puppy, "He's so precious."

Papa tried to sway us and bribe us to go back home, saying he'd take us down to the river on his horse and he would get Mama to make us the sweetest pie she could. But we wouldn't budge.
Without Jonah and I noticing, papa directed the man's son to get up with the puppy and begin walking towards the door. In a captive daze, Jonah and I followed him.
He led us out to the front yard, where Papa and the man talked by our truck, and Jonah and I chased the yapping puppy around. The son soon instructed us to sit down with our legs crossed, and he'd let us hold the puppy for a while.
I sat on my knees as I watched Jonah carefully rake his fingers down the puppy's back over and over, until it eventually curled up in his lap.
"Please Papa can we take him?!" Jonah called, lifting his head up, Papa turned to look at us, flashed a laughing smile, then hanged his head in defeat. He waved us over with one hand as the other reached into his jeans pocket. The son reached for the puppy, but laughed at himself when Jonah rushed right passed him.
"-Can't do anything for us just yet, so as long as you know you can, uh, train him," The man chuckled as Jonah and I stopped beside Papa.
The man refused Papa's offer of money and said we could just take the puppy, but papa wasn't having it.
"At least take fifty," Papa insisted, opening his wallet,
"No, no" The man waved his hands, "I couldn't, I have no need for your money."
Papa told Jonah and I constantly from a young age, if a man didn't accept the cash you offered him, he thought your money was no good. Though I wasn't sure if that was what he presumed in the moment, his eyes and slight grimace gave off that he did.
"Alright then," Papa sighed, "Get in, boys," He opened the passenger door and Jonah and I climbed in. Papa thanked the man, the two shook hands and papa nodded his head.
"You hold onto that puppy tight," Papa told Jonah as he started the truck, the loud rumble nearly scared the pup half to death. "I wonder what your mother'll think," Papa shook his head, again snickering.

On the ride home, Jonah and I fought over what to name him; Jonah wanted something strong and powerful, while I wanted a simple name.
"What about... Bear?" Papa suggested, Jonah shook his head,
"He don't look like a bear, it's gotta be..." Jonah searched his brain for the words, not yet having a vast vocabulary, "About him."
"You haven't known the pup for an hour!" Papa laughed, "How are you gonna give him a name that's personal?"
Jonah shrugged, "I'll figure it out,"
"You'll both figure it out," Papa corrected, looking at Jonah out of the corner of his eye. "I'm sure you can come up with a name both of you can agree on."
When we got home, Jonah was still holding the puppy close, making sure not even a back paw slipped out of his arms.
Mama turned as Papa held the door for us, she narrowed her eyebrows and crossed her arms.
"What is this?" She asked sternly, looking to Papa,
"Just a puppy," Papa answered with an uneasy smile, Mama placed her hands on her hips and gave the three of us a disapproving look,
"And just what kind of puppy is it?" She sneered, glaring at papa,
"A, uh, it's uh," Papa sputtered, "Well, tell 'er, Jonah!" he waved.
"He said it was one of them Kangal Shepards," Jonah said, scratching the puppy's head,
"He? Who's he?" Mama then asked,
"Christopher Neal's son, told you we were goin' up there for him to look at the truck,"
"Well, it's great we still have a truck, but a Kangal too? We don't got the space for one of them."
"Sure we do!" Papa smiled, "We got enough land to satisfy any dog."
Mama had made cranberry muffins while we were gone, and once they cooled, began to hand them out. As she handed me mine, Jonah began to call out, saying there was a bevy of deer in the back field.
Forgetting about the puppy, I put my muffin on the table and Jonah, mama and I rushed to the back door to watch the group of deer.
We stood and watched for a good while as they sniffed around, until they eventually trotted back into the dense woods.
Once there was nothing else to watch, the four of us headed back to the living room. I peered over the couch, expecting my muffin to still be sat right on the table, my eyes widened as I saw only crumbs left in its place.
"My muffin!" I shouted, throwing my arms up, "What happened to my muffin?"
Papa came up and put a hand on my head,
"I think that's your culprit over there," He pointed. In the corner under the front window, the new puppy was still licking the remains of my muffin off his lips.
Frustrated tears began to poke out from my under eye as Papa went to pick up the puppy. He scooped it up and held it out in front of him, looking it up and down,
"You enjoy that you little thief?" Papa laughed.
Mama gave me a replacement muffin and said to be careful of the puppy.
Once each of us had at least one muffin, Papa suggested a name Jonah and I finally agreed on: Cranberry. The two of us thought it was perfect, and though Mama wasn't too keen on having a new dog, she thought the name was sweet.

Since Jonah and I were so insistant on having a pup simply for our entertainment, Papa agreed he wouldn't train Cranberry for any type of farm work. Mama didn't like this however, and the two began to argue.
"What are we goin' to do with a untrained dog just lumbering around?" She chided, furrowing her eyebrows,
"We don't got animals for him to look after, he can uh, walk around the field all day,"
Mama only huffed and turned to walk away.
Jonah and I mostly raced with Cranberry in the back field, and attempted to train him ourselves to run deer off the land, which never worked.
Since Cranberry didn't do real farm work, Jonah and I figured he shouldn't sleep outside like a regular farm dog. Even Papa wasn't enthused with the idea, but once we agreed he wouldn't sleep in the beds but on the floor, he allowed it.

Eventually, Cranberry became a 'regular pet' as papa called him, he would sit on the floor by the table as we ate, and sometimes got a sliver of meat. He would pretend to help Mama do laundry, usually by dragging her basket away as she tried to hang up the clothes.
And though Papa hated the idea of Cranberry being on the furniture, when Mama would tuck us into bed, on the odd night Cranberry wouldn't lay with us, we could hear Papa calling him to curl up on the couch with him.
Jonah and I spent as much time with Cranberry as we could, every time Papa would go somewhere and we could go with him, Cranberry would have to go too. If Mama sent us to pick fruits, he would go, whenever Jonah and I went swimming in the lake, he would go.
Whatever mischievous acts two young boys could get into, Cranberry would be right by our sides when it happened; and when Mama scolded us afterwards.
Cranberry was a kind dog, who of which, besides the one time he stole my muffin, never took a single thing without us knowing. He never barked, snapped or nipped at us, not even when we fed him; Papa had taught him to gently take the food we gave him, so that he hardly even scraped our fingers with his teeth.
When the crisp wind of fall and early winter whispered through the trees, if Jonah or I even slightly shuttered, Cranberry would jump up, and in him being so heavy, make us fall flat on our butts, then once we were down, lay across us to keep us warm.
Mama thought it was so funny seeing such a big dog be so sweet.
We thought we had all the time in the world with Cranberry, really not thinking there was an alternative to life. Jonah had already seen death well before I had, but having Cranberry seemingly rekindled his ignorance of it.

Jonah and I sat quietly at the top of the hill, suddenly realizing the world wouldn't give us any more time. Cranberry lay on his side in front of papa, moving his head ever so slightly, trying to get one last smell of papa's boots.
From the far distance, we could see Papa kneel down and begin to slowly pet Cranberry. He did that for a long, long time before kissing Cranberry on his head and standing up straight.
Jonah took my hand as Papa looked off and raised his gun, I squeezed Jonah's hand as tight as I could without him complaining.
I turned to look behind Jonah's shoulder and closed my eyes as Papa fired his gun, and sent Cranberry back to God.
Gradually, I turned back to take a peek; Papa covered Cranberry's head with his jacket, ran his fingers through his hair and walked away.
I hoped there was a spot in heaven for dogs, where they could be free and young again, so that when we fatefully met our ends as well, Jonah and I could swim with Cranberry for eternity. I hoped that when the winds in heaven got too strong, Cranberry would be there to jump on us and keep us warm.