THE MAD DOG

“Aunt Mae, can we go swimming in the tank now,? Nancy Lee asked.

“Pretty soon, when your breakfast is settled.”

When cousin Nancy Lee from town would come for a week’s summer visit, everything on the farm seemed packed with adventure. Nancy Lee was close to Margaret’s age, and the two of them would walk about with arms entwined, giggling and whispering secrets. Once in a while, Jenny would be included in the plan and she was grateful for those crumbs, even if it involved some teasing. Nancy Lee had a freckled face and sparkling brown eyes. People said she was a live wire. Nancy Lee loved the farm, her Aunt Mae’s cooking, her Uncle Warren’s kidding, the freedom of being able to roam over a large area, but best of all, the private world which she and Margaret shared. They would whisper and giggle in bed late at night until Mother and Daddy had to tell them to be quiet.

“Here’s what I’m gonna wear,” announced Margaret, emerging from the kitchen bedroom where she had been digging in the dress-up box and found and put on a funny old black bathing suit that Daddy had worn when he was a young man. The baggy legs came down to her ankles and the straps kept slipping over her shoulders. Mother pinned it with safety pins and found some patched flannel bloomers for Jenny and some old flour sack underpants and a very long blouse for Nancy Lee.

After what seemed to be a long time, Mother said they could go play in the tank. Wearing their “bathing suits” and carrying old towels, the three girls started gaily up the path toward the horse tanks, which were beside the windmill a quarter of a mile to the north of the house. The July dust was thick and hot under their bare feet. but it felt good. Jenny stepped right in the middle of a patch of stickers. She sat down to pick them out.

“Wait for me!” she yelled.

“Wait yourself, slow poke, “ taunted Margaret.

Nancy Lee said, “If we wait for you, we’ll never get to do any swimming.”

Jenny picked the biggest stickers out quickly, but there were still a lot of little ones left.

“Ah phooey,” she said to herself. Margaret and Nancy Lee started running. Jenny didn’t want to be left behind, so she started running too, even though the stickers hurt her feet. She ran until her side ached so bad she had to slow down and follow at some distance behind. By the time she reached the tanks, she couldn’t see them anywhere and felt a little scared to be up there alone. Soon two heads popped up from the big round tank, and they were laughing and splashing and stirring up the moss. The water was first pumped by the windmill into the oval tank and was very cold and quite clear. It flowed through a pipe into the round tank, where the water was warmed and greener and not as fresh. It had a stagnant smell and water bugs skimmed around on top. Margaret had said there might be water moccasins in it. Jenny put one foot in and let herself into the tank gingerly. The water felt good on her hot feet and she let her hands and arms float on the surface of the water. The moss on the bottom was slippery. Jenny didn’t like having her head in the water and getting the smelly tank water in her eyes and up her nose, so she just let the water come up to her neck. She opened her bloomers at the top and let them fill with water so that they ballooned out and she felt even more like she was floating.

“Look at me,” she called out. “I’m big and fat.”

Margaret and Nancy Lee held their noses and closed their eyes and came up with green slime in their hair. They splashed water in Jenny’s face and called her a “fraidy cat.” The splashes sparkled in the mid-morning sunlight. They stayed in the tank for a long time.

“Just look at my hands and feet, “ Jenny said. They were all wrinkled like those of a very old person.

“That’s from the water,” Margaret explained. “It saps the strength right out of you. We better get out and dry off. Then after a while we can go back in the water some more.”

They got out and let themselves dry and wiped their mossy feet on the buffalo grass. They took sharp sticks and poked some giant puff balls, exploding a brown powder from them which looked like cocoa, but had a chokey smell. They saw a pair of black shiny bugs rolling a marble of mud. They followed the marble for a while and wondered where the bugs were going with their marble. They became tired of this and took a drink from the cold windmill pump. It tasted so good. They decided to try the oval tank, but the water was so cold it made their heads ache so they got back into the big round tank and had just started splashing around in the water, when
Nancy Lee pointed to the pond and said “Lookie.”

They saw a big white dog trotting around the edge of the pond and he just kept going around and around it.

“A mad dog,” cried Margaret. They always go around in circles and they want to get water. Quick! Climb up the windmill!”

Margaret climbed up first, almost to the little platform at the top. Nancy Lee went up next and stopped just below her. Jenny looked up in despair. She had never climbed the windmill ladder before.

“Hurry up, Jenny,” Margaret urged. If a mad dog bites you, you’ll die.”

Jenny didn’t know which would be worse, to die from falling off the windmill, or from being bitten by a mad dog. She decided that the latter would be worse and started to ascend the steep metal ladder. It cut into her feet and she had to stop at the sixth rung, because the next one was missing and she couldn’t reach it with her hands.

“Do you really think it’s a mad dog?” Nancy Lee asked, when she saw there was nothing more they could do.

“Well, I’m not positive,” Margaret answered. “But I’d rather be safe than sorry. “

Jenny thought that sounded fine. Even though it was sometimes uncomfortable to be safe, it was absolutely dreadful to be sorry. The hot dry wind soon dried their hair and clothing making them stiff from all the slime. Now the big white dog was nowhere to be seen.

“Maybe he bit his self and died,” Jenny suggested hopefully, and they giggled now about the thing that had frightened them now that they felt safe. They could look down at the fields, ponds, at their house and barn. The chickens in the yard looked like small white dots.

“Let’s run to the house,” Nancy Lee said, but Margaret said no, she’d rather be safe than sorry.

A tractor putt putted down the road. It was Daddy, coming home from the field for the noon meal. He turned the tractor off and stared at the strange spectacles on the windmill ladder.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“We saw a mad dog,” Nancy Lee told him. “We figured it was mad because it kept going around
and around the pond.”

Daddy grinned, “Well come along home now. It’s time for dinner. You can ride on the back here, but hang on tight.”

The girls climbed down.

“I guess it was kind of silly of us,” Margaret said sheepishly.

Jenny said, “I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

They had just started down the road when Nancy Lee touched her Uncle Warren’s arm and said “stop.’ When she had looked back at the windmill she could see the flour sack pants flying like a flag high on the windmill ladder . Daddy turned off the tractor and they waited while Nancy Lee ran back to the windmill to retrieve the underpants banner.

When they got home, Mother had some tubs of water for them on the brick walk and told them to rinse off the tank slime and get dressed.

How good the fried ham and iced lemonade tasted. They told about the black bugs rolling the mud marble. Daddy said they were tumble bugs and that there was a ball of cow manure in the middle of it. Nancy Lee said, “Ugh!” and then he said that they had laid their eggs in it and were going to bury the marble and when their babies hatched out they could eat the manure. Nancy Lee said , “Ugh!” again.

There was chocolate pie for dessert with meringue. It had golden dots on top and Nancy Lee asked if Mother had sprinkled molasses on top.

Mother laughed, “It just does that sometimes. Don’t your Mother’s pies do this too?”

Nancy Lee said that her mother didn’t know how to make that kind of pie.

“Aunt Mae, you are the best cook in the whole world.”

Jenny felt proud and knew that it must be so.