Tip

Tip was a dog. Not just an ordinary, run-of-the-mill dog; Tip was special. He wasn’t special because of his breeding; he

was just special. His mother had been part German Shepherd; what his father had been Tip didn’t know; but that didn’t

matter, he looked like his mother.

Tip belonged to the Whites. Well, he really didn’t belong to them, he sort of lived with them; when he was home that was.

It might be better to say the Whites belonged to him. He hadn’t always lived with the Whites; he could remember years ago

when he lived with another family. But they didn’t take good care of him so Tip left them and moved in with the Whites.

Tip was distinctive in several ways. He had one ear that flopped down over his eye, the result of a losing battle with a pit

bull that used to live in the neighborhood. He also had a slight limp, not as noticeable now as when he first acquired it two

years ago. The limp was also from a losing battle, this one with a bicycle owned by Mr. White. Tip used to chase after Mr.

White whenever he rode his bike; that is, until the time he ran into the front wheel and caused Mr. White to collide with a

parked car, not since. Now Tip has to be satisfied with chasing any cats that came into his yard; except for the big one that

lived next door, he was mean.

Tip’s main enjoyment was chasing rabbits. The Whites’ house was out in the country and, as there was no fence, Tip

could roam at will. The woods were right behind the house so every chance Tip got he went hunting. Most of the time he

looked for rabbits but once he stirred up a fox and another time he almost caught a wild turkey. Then there was the time he

started to chase a black with a white stripe on its back. Phew!! Tip decided he didn’t like that cat’s body odor.

When the neighborhood children came home on the school bus Tip was usually there to greet them, wagging his tail and

letting them know how happy he was to see them. Sometimes one of them had a treat left over from lunch to share with him.

Tip had to be content with other people’s children now, the Whites’ children had both left home several years ago and Tip

saw them only at holiday time. Besides, they weren’t children any more. Tip wanted to run and play and big people don’t do

that; so Tip had to be satisfied with other people’s children.

One day Tip could run and play all day as the Whites had gone to the county fair and wouldn’t be home until late in the

evening. Also, the children in the neighborhood had all gone away for the weekend and left Tip with no playmates. It didn’t

really matter, the woods were full of many interesting things to do.

As Tip ran into the woods everything was dry now that Fall was approaching. The leaves were beginning to turn and the

forest undergrowth was becoming dormant as it prepared for the long winter ahead. Tip didn’t notice any of these changes

as his attention was attracted to an unusual smell in the air. It had the same smell as the Whites’ fireplace did when they

used it during the winter. Tip had to investigate. As he proceeded deeper into the woods the odor became stronger, Tip

also realized something was missing; he hadn’t seen or heard any other animals since he entered the woods. Where were

they? Instinctively Tip knew that the lack of animals and the smell were related. The animals had left the woods because of

the smell. If they had left then Tip would have to leave too.

As he turned to flee back to his house Tip heard a sound, like the mewing of kittens. With his good ear cocked in the

direction of the sound Tip heard it again. This required investigation. Under a bush, in a small copse of trees, was a

cardboard box; this appeared to be where the sound was coming from. When Tip was close enough to peer into the box he

saw some small, fluffy kittens staring up at him, mewing loudly and scrabbling at the side of the box, trying to get out.

Tip was alarmed, he didn’t know what to make of it. He barked and wagged his tail furiously, to let the kittens know he

was friendly, and stuck his nose down into the box. The kittens weren’t frightened of him, they were just plain frightened, and

hungry. What could he do? He couldn’t just go off and leave them, the smoke was getting stronger and closer. They would

die if he left them there.

Recognizing this Tip tried and tried to think of what he could do to save the kittens. He could carry them back one at a

time b e scruff of the neck as he had seen mother cats do; but that would take too long. By the time he got one or two back

to the house the rest would die. What else could he do? He decided there was only one way he could save them all; he must

carry or drag the whole box. He grasped one corner of the box with his teeth and pulled; nothing happened. He tried another

corner with the same result. Finally, by clamping his teeth on one side of the box and exerting all his strength the box moved.

Tip struggled and wrestled, pulled and tugged, with the smoke continually getting worse. He had to stop and rest often

before he could resume his task, it was very tiring. At last he could see the house. He barked and barked, to no avail; his

family had not returned from the fair. He had to complete the job all by himself. As he approached the house smoke was

following him in huge billows and he could see flames.

Before he reached the house a fire truck turned into the driveway and raced past Tip to the old fire road that entered the

woods in back of the house. Tip pushed and pulled the box of kittens until he reached the steps leading to the front porch

before he collapsed exhausted.

When the Whites returned that night Tip barked and barked until he had their attention. Then, with the Whites following,

he ran to the box wagging his tail as if to tell the Whites, “See what I have for you.”