Good Dog Bucky

“Wow-wee, honey. This dinner was delicious!”

“What are you talking about dear, it's just a flank steak and you didn't even finish yours.”

“Well, I filled up on those great mashed potatoes. Where is Bucky? He'll finish off this steak,” asked Marshall to his family.

“He's outside dad!” Jimmy blasted out, quick to answer his father.
“Yeah, dad, I just saw him playing in the front yard,” Debbie explained, trying to outdo her older brother, “like, just a second ago, I saw him.”

“I bet he's getting some great exercise, kids. Just as a healthy dog should.” their mother, Mary, informed them, “You oughta spend as much time outside as Bucky. You two are always locked away in your bedrooms.”

“We'll go outside after dinner mom!” Debbie declared, looking to Jimmy to see if he'd agree.

“Then get to it, kids. I'll help your mother clear the table,” Marshall said. The kids bolted out the door and their parents remained at the table chatting politely. “Did my fishing catalog come in today, Mary?”

“I'm sorry, Marshall, I'm not sure. I haven't had the chance to get down to the post office to pick up our mail.”

“No worries. I just saw a copy on the newsstand, and you know I want to get that new pole.”

“The newsstand, dear? Don't be ridiculous, you would spend three dollars on a catalog that's already on it's way?”

“You're right. I'm just a bit impatient. I'm really excited to get out to the lake this month. I know you and the kids are going to have a great time up there, Bucky too.”
“We always do,” she smiled to him.

“I can't believe that post office though. We were supposed to get a new mail carrier last week. How long do they expect us to retrieve our own mail?” Marshall argued.

“That man.” Mary's face turned sour and she shook her head slowly as she spoke, “how he could antagonize Bucky like that and then keep his route and just skip over our block.”

“You're right. It's an insult as much as an inconvenience.”

“And never an apology.”

“A dog doesn't bite some one for no reason. Bucky is no wild animal,” Marshall explained.

“I always thought he was rude to Bucky. Never pet him, never had a treat for him. I don't blame Bucky at all for what happened.” Mary rose quickly from the table with her arms stacked with dirty dinner plates. Marshall followed her into the kitchen holding a pair of milk glasses.

“Mom! Dad!” they heard the kids shouting. The front door swung open and the yells recurred.

“What's wrong kids!” Mary shouted in a gasp.

“Come see! Come see!” The parents rushed through the front door in fear of a tragedy, an injury, something horrifying and devastating. They stepped out onto the front porch. Bucky had his jaws clamped around the arm of a young woman lying in their front yard. The kids danced around them. Jimmy was poking the woman with a stick. Debbie was wrestling Bucky's back legs.

“Kids, stay away from there!” Mary shouted.

“Don't worry, honey, I'll take a look at this.” Marshall trotted down towards the woman. He landed a hard slap across Bucky's face and the dog dashed off. The kids were quick to follow. “Unbelievable!” Marshall called out.

“What's wrong, Marshall.”

“Well, she's dead for one thing,” he answered contritely.
“Your kidding?”

“Nope. She's gone, but she sure left a hell of a lot of blood all over our yard. Thanks a lot lady,” he complained sarcastically to the corpse.

“Watch your language, dear. The kids are around.”

“Well, here we are again. Some one comes around- from the looks of her she was jogging past. Some one comes by running, what is a dog supposed to do, but chase after a person? And now we have to clean up this mess.”

“Oh no. This is not our responsibility. Check if she has a wallet, we'll call some one to get her.”

“I don't want to wait around for that, Mary. Bucky will come by and pick at the body. We don't know what kind of diseases she might have.” Marshall lectured. The kids came running back around with Bucky on their heels.

“Dad! Dad! Look!,” they shouted.

“Kids, I can't watch you right now. Go play somewhere else.”

“Dad,” Debbie asked, “can we go in the back yard and hit Bucky with our sticks. He always likes that game.”

“Go ahead. I'm busy with this, kids. Do you see this lady? This is what happens when people don't respect animals. Oh, and the tennis rackets are in the garage if you want to hit Bucky with those instead of those dirty little sticks.”