Travelling companions

Nor did Clarence really recognize James except as the pesky fellow who had come around several times with an exceedingly old, fat and wrinkled lady that insisted on kissing him goodbye while crying messy tears. The pesky man had said, "This is ROSE, your wife, don’t you remember?"

Clarence knew this was nonsense! Rose radiated beauty and vibrated like s a young willow that turned in spring wind, not fat and stody. His sweet Rose had stopped coming years ago. The persistent man had even claimed it was his mother, which didn’t make sense since he also confusingly claimed to be his son.

James was insulted to be forgotten, but did not seem offended that Clarence did not recognize any of the Silvertip Manor’s nurses or staff who daily bathed, fed and humored his father. They were more conditioned to the anomaly of a healthy body hosting a brain that died early, by stealthily inching toward oblivion one small step each day.

Ah, but the other birthday visitor, Clarence immediately recognized. He had last seen his dear old friend Spot eighty years ago when they would fetch the cows from the pasture across the road for the evening milking. All Clarence would need to do was open the fence and Spot would eagerly and masterfully bound up the pasture toward the cows usually congregated at the pasture’s far end where the creek had sponsored a few shady cottonwoods. Clarence would wait at the gate while his dependable cow dog brought all the cows to the lane, expertly nipping at the heels of the au courant Boss Cow just enough to move the complacent followers.

At that very road crossing, he had said a tearful good-bye to his constant companion and best friend. Clarence remembered clearly his great sadness and profound guilt. Spot had stopped in the middle of the road, while a terrified Clarence on one side and his equally distraught father on the other, both calling for their endangered dog. Standing there, puzzled at opposing calls from his two masters, the always obedient and willing dog ignored the oncoming Model T Ford. The carload of city folk stopped and commiserated over Spot’s death, but hastily left continuing their Sunday pleasure drive.

His Dad had tried to assure Clarence that Spot had not been confused by their simultaneous calls but instead, was waiting for one last straggling cow to safely cross. Clarence had wished the cow had been hit instead. A dead cow meant beef on the table, instead of stringy old hens too old to still lay eggs. Times were tough on that small Wisconsin dairy farm, but the family always ate, even if not too fancy.

Dad brought home a new Border Collie pup, from the same neighbors that had given them Spot. Clarence never even named him, calling him Pup, Shep or even, just Dog. He too grew to be a reliable cow dog, didn’t kill chickens or scare the sheep, but Clarence did not share his bed or tell secrets to the new dog.

Spot woke Clarence Bocker just after sunset, nuzzling his nose under his arm as of old. Clarence was so thankful that Spot was now alive, relieving a lifetime of regrets about his guilt in Spot’s tangle with that careless Model T driver. Spot turned and trotted through the usually closed door to Clarence’s room and on down the aisle toward the fire exit. Spot probably thought evening milking was done and was eager to run the cows to the watered pasture. Clarence joyfully set out after his long lost friend.

Snoring already came from several of the patient’s room and one of the snorers must have been the night watchman as Clarence easily exited the fire door before the alarm sounded.

There beside the door shining in the lyellow glow of the security light was a dead ringer for Clarence’s first car. A shiny black 1936 Master Tudor Chevrolet just like the one he had once scrimped so hard to buy, just to convince beautiful Rose that he was a man of means and would be a good provider. It looked to be the very same car he had used to court and win Rose, that only girl he had ever loved. Clarence went directly to the familiar car and tried the driver’s side door. The door was unlocked and the courtesy light revealed a passenger, waiting for him. Young and lovely Rose was sitting in the passenger seat.

Clarence also noticed his old but remembered keys in the ignition and his trusty dog Spot already in the back seat. Clarence always knew Spot was smarter than any other dog, but how could a dog tell Rose which car to sit in. Clarence, too breathless to speak, only smiled at his Rose and she smiled back with that same beautiful smile he had always treasured. She was every bit as radiant and lovely and was wearing the same white wedding gown she wore that wonderful day Pastor Enger pronounced them man and wife, making him the happiest man in the whole state of Wisconsin.

Clarence grinned at Spot. When you have a long ways to go it’s nice to take a friend along. Clarence gently patted the Spot’s head, smiled at the beautiful woman beside him, and eagerly turned the key in the ignition.

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Biography

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