“Back away, Kenny. Very slowly back away.”

“But Pa, Rascal looks hurt. He hasn’t been home for four weeks. He’s got to be hungry. And look there’s blood caked all over the side of his face.”

“Back away, Kenny. Rascal is not himself right now. Give him some space.”

“Honey,” Dad is speaking to Mom who is standing on the front porch. “Slowly walk into the kitchen and cut off a good-sized chuck of that ham.”

“Dad, what are you doing?” I stand still, because I can tell in Dad’s voice not to make any quick movements. “Your pistol, Dad. Put it away.”

“It’s only here if I need it, son.”

“Don’t shoot Rascal. Please.”

“We’re going to see if we can get him in the hen house.”

“If we pen him in there, you’ll have a day or two to decide what to do.”

“What’s to decide, Dad? We wait till Rascal gets well.”

“You’ve seen as much as me, boy. You know what you’re lookin’ at. But he’s your dog. You decide when it’s time.”

Mom had walked to Dad to hand him the ham cuts. Rascal’s eyes were ablaze with anger. I had never seen him like this.

Dad stepped toward the henhouse. A deep growl resonated from Rascal’s throat.

“Wait a minute, Dad. You have the pistol. Let me throw the meat.”

I slowly walk toward Dad and take the ham from his hands. Rascal is quivering in agitation as he watches me. I know that he still recognizes me. His rabid aggression was stilled as he watched me toss the meat into the shelter.

Never turning my back on the dog, I cautiously walked to each side of the house and quickly shut the upper openings. The commotion had caused all of the hen to huddle in the far side of their outer enclosure. If only Rascal would enter the house.

It was now or never. “Come on, boy. Go get the meat. You know you want it. Come on, boy.”

To the amazement of us all, Rascal stepped up the planks and went into the henhouse. Like a flash I was there to shut the door and secure it.

“Now what, Dad?”

“Your dog, son. I’ll help all I can. But you know what this is about.”

Dad and I had been at each other for months. Him always treating me like I was still some wet behind the ears kid. What a time for him to suddenly let me make the decisions?

Written for Three Word Wednesdays: Post 421. Requirements: Use the THREE WORDS GIVEN and create a story.

Ablaze, adjective: burning fiercely; very brightly colored or lighted; filled with anger or another strong emotion.

Deep, adjective: extending far down from the top or surface; taking in or giving out a lot of air; very intense or extreme; (of sound) low in pitch and full in tone; not shrill; (of color) dark and intense; noun: the sea; adverb: far down or in; deeply.

Rabid, adjective: having or proceeding from an extreme or fanatical support of or belief in something; (of an animal) affected with rabies; of or connected with rabies.


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