Excerpt: The Coming

The pack exploded from the truck before Zach had fully dropped the tailgate and tore across the yard baying, The little cockapoo chased the hounds yapping shrilly as if to say “wait up, guys!” The last dog out was always Blue, the old hound. Too old and tired to give chase, Blue stood on the tailgate and bayed after the pack and then jumped down, and turned to lift his leg on the rear tire of the truck. The dirty streaks on the tire and rim attested to the the hound’s penchant for this particular tire as a pit stop. The old dog stood with his leg raised for some time and oddly a hush fell over those gathered around the table as they stopped and watched the old dog attempt to relieve himself. Finally, with a disgusted look at the crowd the hound lowered his leg and shook so that he appeared to stand still within his sliding skin. It was a mighty shake that culminated in his ears flapping like a propeller around his head. Then he walked slowly to the trestle, lay down and promptly began to snore.