Ed comes back, all treats and apologies, which is good. But still they don’t move. “Backseat, boy.” Ed waves Buddy over the seat back. Now Buddy is intrigued. A passenger? This is unprecedented except when they both took him to the vet. Vet? Buddy makes a little interrogative noise in his throat. What’s up?

Alice appears and climbs into the Cutlass. They talk and suddenly everyone climbs out and gets into the minivan. This is better. The middle seat offers a great view, which he can change by going from side to side. Buddy is excited; the routine is different. Something new is happening. Like yesterday, when he and Ed went to that pond where the squirrels were lush on the ground and plenteous in the trees. That was fun. An adventure. Except that Ed slowed down and stopped. Stood at the edge of the water without moving for a long time; stuck like humans sometimes get when their activity is invisible and is often accompanied by sighing. Not the sighing of comfort like a dog when he settles for the night, but that sighing that broadcasts human distress. This clearly wasn’t meant to be a walk, just a visit. Maybe Ed thought that Buddy would rid the place of its squirrel vermin. He tried, very nearly ending up in water, something that he has no interest in doing. Water is for Labradors. That flushed Ed out of his immobility. That stopped his sighing.

This is bound to be an adventure, both humans in one place. No need to herd them; they are willingly together. Buddy sniffs the air behind the humans. He cocks his head. Notices that their hands touch now that Ed has the minivan on the road. Buddy loses interest in the scenery going by, doesn’t think to look for squirrels, or cats or bikes. He keeps his herd-dog eyes on the touching hands visible in the space between the front seats.

He fails to notice the cemetery gates as they drive by, the left-hand pillar nearly scraped clean of its flaking paint; he is intent on the humans here with him now.

Chapter 44

44

I should have known that Adele would want to pull out all the stops. Rather than a simple funeral home service, she has opted for the grand send-off at the largest Episcopal church in New Bedford. My father was a Catholic when he married my mother. Somewhere along the line, Adele had converted him to what I’m sure she thinks of as her classier denomination. She doesn’t actually attend the church, but she swears that we need to use the huge space for the hundreds of friends who will show up. I’m sure that the nave will look like an empty boat.