Skidboot 'The Smartest Dog In The World' by Cathy Luchetti Read Free Book Online Page A

off his gun's safety that very minute to prepare to shoot down a wild pig.
    The javalina is North America's most grotesque feral throwback, a misshapen peccary humped up at the shoulders like an economy buffalo, leaving its outsized head hanging straight down, dragged there by the weight of its tusks. A misfit beast, with teeth too long and legs too short, it made up for its shortcomings with the nasty temperament of a yak and the remarkable action of tusks that would self-sharpen whenever the mouth opened or closed. Hunted by sharpshooters, dreaded by homeowners, the hairy, musty, dung-rolled javalina often hid in basements and carports of the unsuspecting to wreak havoc, a danger to anything in its path. People could be wounded. Worse, the javalina typically herded with its kind, which meant if you saw one, there were probably more out there, circling around.
    In this case, something must have stirred it up, since it usually sheltered after dark. Barks of outrage, challenge and anger collided into a howl that rose up into the night as Skidboot threw himself against the confines of the wooden dog pen. Later, Skidboot would reflect, in that way that a dog could reflect, that he did not deserve to be penned. Everyone else would reflect, in a storytelling way, that maybe it was the poor fencing material, or maybe a loose wire, but really, however it happened, the dog just flew over the fence.
    "Hog!" David hollered. As he limped through the dark, he bumped over a water bucket, battled exposed pipes, kicked paint cans and collided seriously into an angular metal thing that felt like a wheelbarrow. He disentangled himself and limped faster. Up ahead, outlined by the glow of a flashlight, he saw the hog, forelegs planted, mouth like a bagpipe in a full, ear-splitting squeal.
    Squeal didn't describe it, he told people later. Squeal is more of a cartoon sound, like the Three Little Pigs, rather than this splintering shriek. The sound was like framework ripping at a construction site, an anarchy of splintered boards, the attack call of a hog that meant business. David shuddered, his game leg like cardboard, bending in all the wrong places.
    Still yards away, David paused a minute and let out a sudden roar, a sound so loud it startled himself, the javalina, and especially Russell, who panicked to think that hogs were now stampeding from the rear. The hog gathered itself up like an accordion, then shot toward Russell, hoping to make a quick finish of things and get away from the foul smell of humans.
    The next moment fractured into a chaos of sound as Barbara screamed and rushed toward her son, David roared as he swung his crutch at the feisty hog, then lost his balance and toppled over. The hog turned from Russell to the downed man and sped at him, tusks thrust low.
    Then it was over. A streak of mottled black, a flash of fangs, a dog that leaped at the hog's neck, bit deep, then jumped back, barking up a frenzy. The hog had no sense of what happened only that something had happened. Something that meant retreat . Pain and fear drove it back into the dark, away from this crazy barnyard of screaming humans.
    "How the heck…" Barbara rushed to Russell, and they all turned and marveled at Skidboot, a Houdini whose dark arts had helped him through an unopened pen. The woodshed, obviously, couldn't hold him.
    "Can he sleep with us tonight?" About time Skidboot thought, questioning David, even though Russell and Barbara were hugging and tugging at him, smooching him, cuddling, complimenting. A straight line of sight shot toward David's eyes.
    "Maybe this dog's a pointer," he said. "A hunter."
    David had to break gaze, as there were calls to make and bills to settle, and this staring contest with a dog got on his nerves. Skidboot kept facing the spot where David had been for a minute after, then finally dropped his head and began to lick his coat. Up, then down, then up again, delicately, finding precision in the small damp trail of tongue