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Maddie
© 2010 - William C. Highsmith

This was the seventy second autumn for old Pete. He had seen a lot of hard work and difficult times in his long and storied life. He was 'retired' now from working the fields as a share-cropper on the estate of Mr. Elwood Coleman. He and his wife Madeleine had worked for the Coleman family for many years and raised two children. Mr. Coleman was a good man and made provision in his last will and testament for Pete and his wife to live out their lives in the old share-cropper house.

Pete nor Madeleine had much education. However, they did all they could to make sure the kids had every opportunity for a better life. The daughter married a sailor and moved to San Diego, California. His son was very athletic. He was a successful player and became a coach for the Atlanta Braves baseball organization. Then, Maddie died and went on to be with her Lord. He missed her very much. Even though, he seldom heard from the kids, he knew they loved him. Now, it was just he and old Hoover - a large, lanky blue-tick hound. Like himself, Hoover was no longer a 'spring chicken'.

Pete retrieved his trusty 12 gauge shotgun from its place in the corner of the room and a fishing pole from the porch. "Come on Hoover - let's see if we can scare up some supper."

Heading out of the yard, he and his old dog began walking down the country road towards a tiny body of water in the woods. His hopes were to perhaps bag a rabbit or a couple of squirrels. If he was really lucky, maybe there would be a duck on the pond. Turning off the road, he headed into the woods towards the small lake. Hoover, put his nose to the ground but, was unable to catch the scent of a rabbit or squirrel. Maybe, it would be fish on the menu tonight. Then he saw it.

There ahead, on the bank of the pond, stood a duck. He needed to get closer for the 12 gauge to do its magic. Then Hoover spotted it, too. Bounding ahead, the big dog closed quickly on the bird. Pete thought the dog would cause his supper to fly away. However, he suddenly realized the duck was not leaving but, rather, it could hardly move. Hoover had no problem catching it. Something was dreadfully wrong.

"Hoover - stop!"

Now old Hoover was not exactly the brightest puppy his mama ever raised but, he knew he must stop whatever he was doing when Pete sounded like that. He stayed in place as the old man approached the duck. Although he was hunting his supper, this duck would not be it. Instead, he must help it. The animal was wounded and in bad shape. It appeared to be starving and something was wrong with its left wing. It looked like it was broken.

Spam would be the entrée on the menu tonight.

He picked up the duck and placed it in a cloth shoulder bag. With his gun and fishing pole in one hand and the bag over his shoulder, Pete said, "Well, Hoover, it appears we have a patient to care for. Let's go to the house." He headed home to feed and tend to the sick bird.

As Pete examined the bird, he realized it would never fly again. Its wing was hurt too badly. He also knew he had to find something for it to eat. Since his wife was the one who always tended to anything that needed special care, he said to himself, "I wonder what Maddie would do?"

As he tended to the hurt wing, he had a thought about what to give the animal to eat. "I will grind up some of Hoover's dry food for her, and I know what to name her. I will call her Maddie. I know my Maddie would like that."

By William C. Highsmith - July 28, 2011