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

Mack has never lived with two people at once. There have been visitors, even overnight guests, but never two people under the same roof, sharing a bed and bumping into each other in the hallway. He watches Ed and Alice as they go through their days. Her tongue language includes recognizable words like dinner; his, the word no. Ed says no to Alice a lot. Mostly when she asks him a question. “I don’t know.” “No thanks.” “How should I know?” When they talk to each other, the sentences are short, and even a dog can tell that it isn’t conversation as much as routine fact finding. The interesting thing is that when he is alone with either of them, their tongue language is smooth and flowing, filled with nuances and that chirpy sound that humans make when they are amused. Suddenly, they are using a word with him that he recognizes is what they want to call him. Buddy. That’s okay. It’s a familiar term and he’ll respond to it if that’s what they want.

What’s hard is that they spend very little time in the same room. Buddy/Mack, still new to the double responsibility of two humans, goes between the television room and the kitchen, staring first at Ed, then at Alice. They should be in the same place; that’s what his herd-dog requirements ask. Then Alice moves to the television room and Ed disappears into the bathroom. Buddy/Mack waits patiently, sitting just inside the archway so that he can monitor the television room and the bathroom. Ed comes out, and he wags his tail in relief. Okay, now he can move Ed into the same room as Alice. But Ed slips past him, giving him a pat on the head, going into the bedroom to watch the other television.

This is the first day that Alice hasn’t been at home with him. Buddy/Mack recognized the word work, so he thinks that she may come back tonight smelling like food. That’s what Justine always smelled like when she told him she was going to work. Food. Buddy/Mack licks his chops in anticipation that maybe tonight these new people will present him with a treat from work. After their daily ride, Ed has also left him alone in the house while he is outside. Buddy/Mack would like to tell Ed that he’s perfectly dependable about staying in the yard, but he has no way of letting Ed know that. So he jumps onto the couch, circles, and buries his nose beneath his tail. He’ll doze a little, one ear positioned to catch the sound of returning humans.