Page 162 of Mountain Daddy
I stand on the deck, looking. But I don’t see him.
Buddy is gone.
“No.” I start to cry all over again. Big hiccupping sobs.
Buddy is hurt.
And he needs help.
And—
A scratchy shout cuts through my tears, and Buddy scurries out from under the deck.
“Dammit, Buddy.” I keep crying. “I told you I lied about being okay. You can’t play games with me right now.”
He sits at the base of the steps.
I pull in a slow breath, needing to gather my composure so I stop embarrassing myself in front of the wildlife.
“Okay…” I exhale. “I can do this.”
I move toward Buddy and cautiously descend the stairs, lowering myself to sit in the grass before him.
Buddy watches me as I cross my legs.
And this time when I hold out my hand, I lay the scissors on my palm.
They’re small enough that they don’t hang off my hand, and I have the pointy end facing me so Buddy won’t accidentally poke his nose.
He inches closer and sniffs the metal.
Then he sits again.
I chuckle. “Ready to get this over with, huh?”
My hands want to shake as I reach for his leg, but I will them to be steady.
Buddy is a wild animal, but he’s small.
Worst case scenario, he freaks out and bites me, and I have to go to the hospital to get some shots. And when I come home with a bandage on my arm, I’ll have to explain to my dad that I was playing nurse to a fox from the woods, and he bit me.
Best case scenario, Buddy holds still, lets me cut the string off, and then he becomes my lifelong companion.
“I promise to do my best,” I whisper to Buddy as I reach for his leg.
His fur is thick, but he feels so fragile.
“You’re such a good boy.” He holds perfectly still. “The best.” I slide one side of the thin scissors under the string. “We’re almost done.” I squeeze the handles of the scissors together. And the string breaks, dropping to the deck.
I slowly lower his leg and watch as Buddy gingerly sets his foot down.
“See? Does it feel better?”
Buddy darts his head down, snaps up the string, and then he shakes it like he’s trying to kill it.
A real laugh bubbles out of me.
“Yeah, you tell that string who’s boss.”
