BooksBarbecue
Back The Dog Who Danced Save as PDF
Chapters (68)
  1. Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Dedication
  4. Part 1
  5. Prologue
  6. Chapter 1
  7. Chapter 2
  8. Chapter 3
  9. Chapter 4
  10. Chapter 5
  11. Chapter 6
  12. Chapter 7
  13. Chapter 8
  14. Part 2
  15. Chapter 9
  16. Chapter 10
  17. Chapter 11
  18. Chapter 12
  19. Chapter 13
  20. Chapter 14
  21. Chapter 15
  22. Chapter 16
  23. Chapter 17
  24. Chapter 18
  25. Chapter 19
  26. Chapter 20
  27. Chapter 21
  28. Chapter 22
  29. Chapter 23
  30. Chapter 24
  31. Chapter 25
  32. Chapter 26
  33. Chapter 27
  34. Chapter 28
  35. Chapter 29
  36. Chapter 30
  37. Chapter 31
  38. Chapter 32
  39. Chapter 33
  40. Part 3
  41. Chapter 34
  42. Chapter 35
  43. Chapter 36
  44. Chapter 37
  45. Chapter 38
  46. Chapter 39
  47. Chapter 40
  48. Chapter 41
  49. Chapter 42
  50. Chapter 43
  51. Chapter 44
  52. Chapter 45
  53. Chapter 46
  54. Chapter 47
  55. Chapter 48
  56. Chapter 49
  57. Chapter 50
  58. Chapter 51
  59. Chapter 52
  60. Chapter 53
  61. Chapter 54
  62. Chapter 55
  63. Chapter 56
  64. Chapter 57
  65. Epilogue
  66. Acknowledgments
  67. Also by Susan Wilson
  68. About the Author

I’m on a mission and we keep moving, hunting down the next series of signs that will lead us to the road called Old Path.

They still haven’t called me back. It’s enough to make me think crazy thoughts.

“Right on Creighton Road.” I’m down to the last two turns of this complicated backcountry drive. “Quarter mile, right on Owen Farm Road.” We’re passing pastures and woodlots, a state park, and empty farm stands. We pass the only commercial building we’ve seen, a manufacturing plant, but I can’t tell what they manufacture.

We’re finally on Cemetery Road. We pass the cemetery, one stone pillar flaking white paint and the other scraped to the brick. And just beyond, there it is: Old Path Road. My stomach leaps with excitement. I’m within minutes of getting Mack back.

Chapter 51

51

They take the Cutlass because Buddy can sit between them. As they pass the cemetery, for once he doesn’t whine, but instead flops down and puts his head in Alice’s lap. She strokes his ears gently, thoughtfully, not saying anything to Ed, too much needing to be said.

They take the Pike, then get off on Interstate 91, heading north. Ed seems to have a plan, so Alice watches the scenery go by and lets him be in charge. It takes too much energy even to wonder where they’re going. Ed exits at Northampton, asks her if she wants to stop for lunch. She shakes her head no. They continue through town slowly, dodging a constant gauntlet of collegians crossing the wide main street.

It is too much like losing Stacy, and that is a blasphemous thought. How can losing a child in any way be equated to giving up a dog? But the sorrow is there, the same taste of loss. The same weighted limbs and difficulty keeping the breath in her body. She shouldn’t have allowed herself to want Buddy. She should have pushed him away. She should have kept Ed away. But Buddy has joined them back together. After being broken shards, cutting each other with every glance, the sense of being cup and saucer again has been good. If Buddy goes, when Buddy goes, what will become of that newly repaired bond?