RABBITS

It was evening and the sun hung in limbo at eye level between the dead weeping willow and the long browned grass on the ridge. Jody and Marsh sauntered in the grass in jeans and straw hats with guns resting and extending out from their hips; and the dogs ran, smelling in the grass and barking with excitement. Jody spat and flies flew from perch to perch on the grass like rabbits hopping through a field; and then there was a calm as the dogs settled and crept out of sight near a thicket just past the north side of the ridge.

“I think they found somethin’.”

“Quiet, Marsh! How can we concentrate with you yappin’ all the time?”

“Sorry, Jody.”

Their growling could barely be heard over the swaying, creaking grass. Jody’s stride was short now and he lowered himself and crept; Marsh followed.

“Get set.”

Marsh butted his rifle up against his left shoulder and his face tightened in the golden evening sun. He grinned.

Quietly, but with the force of a locomotive, Jody said, “When they come out you wont get but one shot before they start the chase, so you make it a good one an’ don’t you turn that gun towards me or you’ll have a black eye for a week.”

Marsh looked intent at the grass and thicket for any movement and he closed his right eye against the sun for a better look. They both waited. 

The dogs barked and a dark blur leapt out from the brush and Marsh shot. The gun kicked and he staggered back.

“Damnit!” Jody ran and Marsh followed. “Damnit” Jody said, “Damnit Marsh, what’d you do that for? Couldn’t you see that wasn’t no rabbit?”

Marsh looked down at the dog and he choked when he tried to speak, “I… I didn’t see. I thought he was a rabbit.”

“When’s the last time you seen a rabbit the size of a pointer? Shit” Jody bent down and felt the dogs warm carcass. “Well, he’s good and dead now, at least he didn’t suffer none. We’ll have to carry him back. Gimme that.” Jody snapped the gun from marsh. “He’s your game, you carry him back now.”

“Jody, I ain’t seen him, I swear I didn’t! I’m sorry!”

“I know, I know Marsh. But that’s the way it is. Now go on and get him up on your shoulders there, we got a walk back and we want ta give him a nice burial in the dusk and all, not too dark. He was a good dog and deserves a good sendoff.”

“Pa’s gunna be mighty steamed, oh I done it! Shit!”

“Ain’t the first time a dogs been shot. Hell, men been shot and nothing happened. E’erything ‘ll be okay after your Pa lets some steam off, don’t you worry.”

Jody and Marsh walked home with their backs to the sun, the brown dog draping over Marsh’s shoulders and upper body. It was almost as big is him and he struggled against the dead weight the whole way and he was hot with the dogs remaining body heat.

Pa was quiet when Jody and Marsh told what had happened and he said it was all right, an honest mistake. Maybe Marsh was still too young.

The funeral was set for the next morning after sunrise but before breakfast. Jody lay silent in his bed in the hands quarters with his arms folded under his head and he smiled at the sound he heard:

“I ain’t never knowed no one to prepare a shot dog before in all my life. Hell, it was an honest accident anyways an’ what this mutt doin’ a-jumpin in the air like a jack rabbit gone buck wile an’ chasin’ an’ all an’ if he was so good why was he chasin’ like that don’t he knowed we was shootin. Hell I didn’t mean it for nothin’ I’m sorry, God’s truth I’m sorry!”