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Show A DOG'S A PERSON TOO Chapter VII Eager to tell you about Father's "immigrant car" journey and the store-and-dwelling he'd built for us, I overlooked introducing a Nada resident who was waiting for me. He was Shep. Two blows struck me as I hopped off #25 that first evening. One was mental, a feeling of vast emptiness under a roof of fire-blood sunset. The °ther was a dog who hurled himself joyously against my chest, showering me with pebbles from the track ballast. Shep knew from the beginning that I was his boy. A mature "man" of a dog, he looked tolerantly on my eight-year old immaturity. So I shouldn't say he was my dog. I was his boy. He never lacked confidence in himself and his judgement. Quite naturally, because of my youth, he lacked confidence in mine. But immediately he felt attached to me because he had earlier become attached to Father. He was to be my closest pal for six years. Shep appeared out of nowhere while Father and his crew were building the store. Probably the dog became separated from some family migrating through the Escalante. To speak of his being lost would suggest a faulty idea about Shep. He always had the air of being in command. Since he was detached from his former family, he must have chosen to separate himself from them. He showed an intense spirit of independence. Try to make this jibe with his equally sharp sense of responsibility to his friends. Although Shep could give unfaltering loyalty, he gave it on his own terms. His household duties he chose and interpreted in his own way. He carried them out with his self-reliance bristling all along the way, his way. He could be affectionate, considerate, courteous. He was gentlemanly. But again, he made no gesture that could |
