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AT THE EDGE OF THE WOODS The old dog slept on his soft bed; his feet twitching and his nose quivering. Occasionally, he gave a soft yip. In his dream, his old friend Satchmo the Newfy was running through the woods with a pack of other dogs. The old dog had never seen his friend looking so fit and strong. As they came to the edge of woods, each dog stopped, in turn; first Boris, the St. Bernard, on his face, a goofy dog-grin; then Spunky the shaggy mutt, his soft brown and black fur gleaming with health. Behind them came Black Brook Silk, a regal collie, her elegant tail flying behind her like a flag, and little Boots, a smallish black dog with a sweet nature and loving brown eyes; then Satchmo and another Newfoundland dog, Gandalf, their classic rolling gait not quite as fast as the others, but absolutely tireless.

As they stopped at the edge of the woods and looked toward the house, the old dog felt his dream self get up and run out through the dog door. He leapt from the granite steps with an energy he hadn't felt in several years and bounded effortlessly across the dooryard. They were waiting for him, he could feel it!

On his bed, the dog's paws paddled as if he were running. His master looked down and smiled. They had been together for 15 years and the old dog was dearly loved. He must be dreaming of a walk in the woods. When he awoke, they would go out for a walk.

As he approached the woods, the old dog, whose name was Higgins, hesitated and looked back over his shoulder. The Master where was the Master? He couldn't leave without the Master. He stopped and looked back and forth between the house and the edge of the woods where the dogs waited.

In his sleep, Higgins breathing became heavier, as if he were excited. His feet twitched and his tail thumped once. He gave a soft whimper. His master reached down and stroked his heaving side, but Higgins didn't notice.

The dogs were calling him, but his Master was calling his heart. "Come on," they called, "Come and run through the woods and meadows with us. Roll in the sunshine. Swim in the brook. We are all the Master's dogs and we're waiting for him. He isn't ready to go, yet, but we'll all be here to greet him when his time comes. Come, play and wait with us."

The Master picked up Higgins' soft brush and sat on the floor next to him. Gently, he brushed the dog's silky fur and murmured soft words of comfort. Gradually, the heaving sides relaxed and, with a last shuddering breath, the old dog lay still and quiet. The Master's brush continued to stroke the tear-dampened fur.

With one last look at the house, Higgins, his tail in the air, feet spring-loaded, leapt to join the Master's other dogs. They greeted him joyously and, turning, bounded into the woods.

Learn more about this author, Joann Brosnan.
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