"Daddy, can we keep him, PLEEEEASE?" my little sister Sandy begged, hugging the black and white mutt who wandered into our yard that afternoon. "He's so cute and he likes me. I named him Buddy."

"I don't know, Sandy," Dad said. "We don't really need another dog. And what if he belongs to somebody?"

"Dad, I don't think he does," I said. "He doesn't have a collar. You know how people from town are always bringing dogs they don't want out here and leaving them. I think that's what happened to him. I don't think he has any place else to go."

"Okay," Dad said. "But you kids have to keep him out of trouble. If he doesn't know how to behave, he'll have to go to the animal shelter."

Unfortunately, Buddy did not know how to behave. He chased everything that moved, including the cats, chickens, and the school bus every time it pulled in the yard.

"Karen, what are we going to do?" Sandy asked me. "If we can't teach Buddy to stop chasing things, Daddy will take him to the animal shelter."

"I have an idea, " I said. "Come on, Buddy."

I led the dog to the garage where Callie, our big calico cat and her five kittens had their bed. I coaxed Buddy inside and shut the door.

"But Karen, what if Buddy hurts the kittens?" Sandy asked.

"I don't think we need to worry about that," I said. "Just wait."

Sure enough, in a few minutes, we heard a big ruckus, some yowling and hissing, and then a startled yelp. I opened the door, and Buddy tore out of the garage with Callie right behind him and hid under the porch. When he finally came out, he had five big scratches down the middle of his nose. He left the cats alone after that, but still insisted on chasing chickens and the school bus.

"If it worked with cats, maybe it will work with chickens, too," I told Sandy. "Come and help me chase One Eyed Jack into the grainery."

One Eyed Jack was the meanest rooster on the farm. He was older than me, and he had survived that long on pure cussedness. After several tries, Sandy and I managed to chase Jack into the empty grainery. I opened the door and shoved Buddy in with him. This time, it took only a few seconds before we heard a frantic yelp. When I opened the door, Jack was strutting around like a general on parade, and Buddy practically saluted as he skulked past him. He never went near the chickens after that.

The next morning, when the school bus rumbled into the yard, Buddy stayed on the porch, head resting on his paws. When Sandy and I climbed aboard the bus, the driver said, "I see your dog isn't chasing the bus today. How did you manage to teach him to stop?"

"Well," Sandy said. "After what happened when he chased the cats and chickens, I don't think he wants to find out what will happen if he keeps chasing the bus."



Arakun
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