"I didn't know cows had schedules," Ernie said.

"Not cows. Steers. Bulls without balls."

"No wonder you know all about them."

Jimmy punched him in the shoulder. They went down to the pond.

The pond was surrounded by brown mud banks. The earthen dam rose at the east end. At the west end, the pond narrowed into a swampy stand of weeds.

"There're snakes in the weeds," Jimmy said, pointing. "We need to stay away from that end."

They stripped off their shirts and went in. They left their shoes on. The water stayed blood-warm until it was waist-deep. Then there was a layer of coolness down low. The bottom was mud that sucked at their sneakers, but there were also sticks and things that felt like broken glass and tin cans. The water didn't come up to their necks until they reached the center. Jimmy found one hole where the water was over his head. He dropped into it and opened his eyes, but all he could see was a brown haze. When he looked straight up, it turned reddish. The water in the hole was cold, and something slimy slithered past his legs. He surfaced and moved back to shallower water.

He and Ernie swam and splashed each other until they tired, and then they moved to where the water was shallow enough that they could sit with the waves lapping at their chins. The sun was hot on Jimmy's head, and when his hair started drying, he dunked himself to wet it again.

"Hey, look," Ernie said when Jimmy surfaced. He was pointing toward the dam.

Jimmy blinked the water out of his eyes. A small brown dog with a narrow head was sitting on top of the dam, watching them. It was panting.

"I think he wants a drink," Ernie said.

"So why doesn't he get one?"

"Maybe he's scared of us."

Jimmy stood. The breeze on his chest was cool for a few seconds, then turned hot. "Come on, pup," he called, bending over and patting his thighs. "Come on down. We won't hurt you. Come on."

The dog cocked its head.

"You know him?" Ernie asked.

"Never saw him before."

"How come you don't have a dog, anyway? Out here in the country you could have three or four."

Jimmy shrugged. "Dad doesn't like them. He says they just cost money for feed." Sort of like chickens, he thought. Only not as stupid. He started walking through the water toward the dam.

The dog stood, ready to run.

"It's okay, pup," Jimmy said. "Don't be afraid. We're your buddies. Don't be a chickenshit." He kept on walking until he was within a few feet of the base of the dam. "Come on down, pup. The water's fine."

The dog took a few steps toward the water, then returned to the top of the dam. It sat down again and panted.

"Here come the cows," Ernie said.

Jimmy looked. The steers were moving down the slope toward the pond like slobber-nosed tanks. Jimmy slogged back to Ernie, and they got out of the pond. Ernie opened his backpack and brought out one of the Mason jars. They each took a long drink of Kool-Aid, and then the steers were close. A chunky black one bellowed at them. The boys moved away toward the dam, and a brown streak shot past them, heading toward the cattle.

It was the dog. It charged the black steer, and the steer turned and ran, thudding into another member of the herd. Then all thirty of the steers were running back the way they had come, their hooves rumbling. The dog stayed after them, dashing first at one and then another.

Jimmy and Ernie laughed. The steers disappeared over the rise, and the boys went back into the water. After a while the dog came back and took a drink while they were out in the middle.

"Thanks, pup!" Jimmy called. The dog looked across at him and grinned, its jaw dripping. It took several more laps from the muddy water, then trotted back to the top of the dam. It stayed there and watched Jimmy and Ernie until they got tired and left.

Jimmy's mother didn't come home that day. In the evening, Dad smacked Jimmy in the head for not doing the dishes. Dad hadn't even told him that he should, but that didn't seem to matter.

On Tuesday, Dad was gone before Jimmy woke up. There wasn't a note. Jimmy took care of the chickens and boiled a couple of eggs. After eating, he cleaned up the kitchen and bathroom, then dragged out Mom's canister Hoover and vacuumed the living room. It was boring as hell, but he wanted to head off Dad's temper if he could. The only room he didn't clean was Mom and Dad's bedroom. The door was shut. He wouldn't have gone in even if it had been open.

When he had finished cleaning the house, he went outside and mowed the yard until the mower ran out of gas. The fuel cans in the garage were empty, so there was nothing more he could do. He left the mower where it had died and went into the house to splash water on his face and arms. He was dusty and covered with bits of dry grass that itched. When he felt better, he took some comic books to the porch. It was too hot in the house. He sat on the concrete step, his legs in the sun, his head in the shade.

Ernie showed up while he was reading The Flash. Ernie had brought lunch again. Jimmy was embarrassed that Ernie kept having to feed him, but there wasn't much he could do about it. He didn't have any money to buy groceries, and Dad would kill him if he went into town anyway.

They ate lunch and then hiked back to swim in the pond again. The little brown dog appeared after they had been there about twenty minutes. It sat on top of the dam and watched them as it had the day before. Jimmy and Ernie went to the base of the dam and called it, but it still wouldn't come down. It moved away whenever one of them took a step up the dam. They gave up and went back into the water.

"What kind of dog is that, anyway?" Jimmy asked.

"Heinz fifty-seven," Ernie said. "He's got some terrier in him, though."

"What kind of terrier, you figure?"

"Rat."

"I wonder who he belongs to."

"If he belonged to anybody, he wouldn't be here, stupe."

Jimmy splashed Ernie in the face, and they got into a terrific war. They moved into deeper water and floated on their backs, kicking brown and white plumes at each other. Then something brushed against Jimmy's shoulder, and he stood up in the chest-deep water.

The dog had swum out to them. It paddled around Jimmy in a circle, holding its triangular head up at an angle. Its mouth was closed. Jimmy heard air puffing in and out of its wet black nose. Its expression was one of serious concentration.

Ernie stopped splashing and stood. He stared at the dog. It swam around him and back to Jimmy.

Jimmy put a hand under the dog's chest and lifted, buoying it. The dog stopped paddling. It didn't try to get away. It remained still, letting Jimmy hold it. It kept its head pointed up and its mouth closed. Jimmy could feel its heart beating fast.

"You're a brave one, pup," Jimmy said, and let it go. It paddled across to the muddy bank, climbed out, and shook itself so hard that some of the spray reached the boys.

Ernie shook his head. "That's a weird dog."

"I like him," Jimmy said.

"How you know it's a him?"

"Look, moron."

The dog still wouldn't come to them when they left the water, but it trotted after them when they started back toward Jimmy's house. It stayed well back.

"What's the matter with him?" Ernie asked.

"He's smart," Jimmy said. "He wants to make friends, but he wants to make sure we want to make friends too."

"So why'd he swim out to us?"

"He's a good swimmer. He probably figured he could get away if we tried to hurt him."

"Why would he think we wanted to hurt him?"

"How should I know? Maybe people have hurt him before."

They continued toward the house. A cottontail rabbit spooked, and the dog took off after it. The boys ran after them, whooping, cheering the dog on. The wind burned past Jimmy's face. It felt great.