Chapter 24
It was the third week in September. Bart was expected in ten days, and she’d be returning with him to his cabin in early October.
But something weird was going on. She had four dogs in a panic.
She opened her eyes, shook her head, sat up, and stumbled out of bed.
Not knowing who was on her porch, she pulled on a bathrobe and headed toward the door where Shadow was barking out of control, two pups at her feet imitating their mother, and one more dog outside on the porch.
She looked out the window and saw Bear barking loudly.
Huh? Bear? Was she dreaming? She took a deep breath and pinched herself. She was definitely awake.
She opened the door, and Shadow and the pups rushed to greet Bear. She ordered Bear and Shadow to both sit, and they sat next to each other barking their heads off. Bear needed to be calmed down. Molly knelt and started talking to him, using her calmest voice.
“Hey, Bear. Everything is going to be okay. Did you and Bart come out earlier than expected? Is Bart over at the campground? Are you anxious to see Shadow? She’s right here, boy.”
Molly patiently scratched Bear’s head and shoulders and calmly stroked his back.
He was wet and dirty. The dampness had to be sweat because it hadn’t rained for weeks.
“Hey, boy, what’s up? Shadow is right here.
Everything is going to be just fine.” On cue, Shadow moved closer to her partner and started grooming around his ears and neck.
Trying to process what was going on, Molly assumed that Bart and Bear had come out early and, rather than interrupt Molly at night, Bart had pitched a tent at the campground, and now Bear was anxious to see Shadow.
But Bear was seeing Shadow. Shadow was actively grooming him.
And Bear was not calming down. Molly continued to work with him as he continued barking.
“Everything’s okay, boy. Why don’t the three of us head down to the campground and see Bart? Maybe that will make you feel better.”
Molly opened the door and invited Bear into the house.
She watched as he went directly to the pantry for Shadow’s food and water bowls.
He was hungry and thirsty. She filled the bowl with water and watched the thirsty dog lap madly at the bowl.
She then filled Shadow’s food bowl with her favorite meal, and Bear immediately switched to the food, devouring it in less than a minute.
Molly added another half bowl and watched him eat it quickly, too.
Molly knew eating too much too fast was not healthy, so she didn’t add more.
Molly settled on a kitchen chair, her mind whirring, her stomach upside down.
Something was wrong. Very wrong. Bart would never let Bear get this dehydrated and hungry.
Bear was soaked with sweat and caked with dirt.
It came to Molly very clearly that Bart was not here.
Bear was here on his own. Molly felt the panic releasing bile into her stomach.
Bart was in trouble. Bear was calling for help.
She retrieved Shadow’s brush and summoned Bear to sit at her feet. She started brushing him down as a calming effort. He looked up at her and barked quickly three times. Molly scratched his head, neck and shoulders, brushed his coat, and spoke reassuringly.
“Hey, Bear, what’s going on? Where’s Bart?”
Bear barked quickly three times.
“Hey boy, what are you trying to tell me?”
Bear barked quickly three more times.
Molly set the brush down, retrieved her laptop, and Googled “dog training commands.” She searched “three successive barks” and found nothing. She searched for “help” signals from dogs and found nothing. She continued researching barking patterns until she found what she was looking for.
If the same dog barks rapidly, many times in quick succession and repeats these bursts many times, the dog thinks the situation is very important and extremely urgent.
She looked at Bear and said, “Is Bart in trouble?”
Bear responded with three short, sharp barks.
Molly continued to brush Bear while her mind switched into high gear. She was positive that Bart was not with Bear. Bear had come alone from Bart’s cabin to get help. She believed that if Bear needed help, Molly and Shadow were his only hope, and that was why he was here.
“Okay, boy, I understand. Bart is in trouble. You’ve come for help. We’re going to help you and Bart. Everything is going to be okay.”
She stroked Bear as reassuringly as she could, but she could not stop the three short barks.
Bear was insistent. The situation was urgent.
Molly felt helpless. She needed advice and help.
What was she to do? She had no idea what kind of trouble Bart might be in.
For God’s sake, she had no idea where Bart even was, or how far away he was.
But she did know that Bear had come to take her there.
She needed to talk with Silas, and she needed to confirm that Bart was not at the campsite. She was confident he was not, but that had to be ruled out.
She picked up her cell and called Silas.
“Good morning to you.”
“Are you at work?”
“I’m in the truck. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“Meet you in your office in ten minutes.”
Molly was waiting in Silas’ office with Bear, Shadow, and two pups when Silas walked in and flipped the switch on his coffee pot.
He sat down and listened while Molly explained the situation.
“Have you checked the campsite?”
“No, that’s my next move, but I’m confident he’s not there. He’d never let Bear get dehydrated and hungry like this. Bear was a sweaty mess when he arrived at my place.”
“We should check to make sure Beryl is not in her stall.”
Molly turned to Bear.
“Hey, boy, is Bart okay?”
Bear barked three short times.
Molly explained her research on dog barking patterns.
“You check Beryl’s stall, and I’ll pour the coffee.”
Molly returned, shaking her head. Beryl was not in her stall and there was no point in checking the campground. A cup of hot, black coffee was sitting in front of her.
Silas asked, “What’s your plan?”
“I have no plan. I need help. No doubt in my mind that Bart is in trouble. I don’t have a clue how or what. But Bear wouldn’t be here in this state otherwise. My first thought is that I’m going to let Bear take me to Bart, but I can’t just go like this. I need to be prepared.”
“Shall we build a team?”
“That was my first instinct, but Bart is super private about his place off the grid. He’s agreed to take me in early October. I would never feel right leading an expedition to his private hideout. My instinct is to go alone.”
Silas thought about that for a full minute before taking a drink of coffee. “I don’t like you going alone, but I have to agree. Bart doesn’t want a search and rescue team showing up at his place. So we need to get you supplied, ready, and out of here soon.”
Molly and Silas brainstormed every possible contingency for the next hour and made their plan.
Molly would leave at 10:00 with Bear, Shadow, and a mule.
Silas would pack and prep the mule.
Silas would contact Evelyn and Betsy to pack food. Molly would need food for herself, the dogs, and the mule.
Silas would arrange for Betsy to watch the pups.
Molly would pack her own clothes and supplies and contact Vivian at the Vet clinic for a medical kit. Silas would send Becky to the Vet clinic at 9:30 to pick up whatever Vivian could put together.
The longest discussion was whether Molly would walk alone, take a mule, or take a horse.
She wanted to walk with a back pack. But by the time they’d completed the discussion about supplies, they both agreed on a mule.
Mules could go places horses couldn’t. They were sure footed and trained for hauling supplies.
Bart used a mule. A mule made the most sense.
The final factor in favor of the mule was when Silas speculated that Bart could have had a bad fall.
He could be over a cliff, in a crevasse, alive but with a broken back and neck.
Molly could picture Bear barking in a panic, completely helpless, Bart unable to move.
Molly would need ropes and heavy gear for that kind of rescue.
That tipped the scales in favor of a mule.
They’d also talked about a bear or cougar attack without mentioning the worst case scenario.
But those contingencies would require an extensive medical kit if he was still alive.
Betsy, Evelyn, and Molly were packing Buddy, the mule Silas had selected for the mission, when Becky drove up with the medical kit from Vivian.
Just as they were going through the medical kit, a 911 emergency response van drove up.
Molly looked up confused, then remembered: Betsy’s husband, Reed, was a professional EMT.
She looked at Betsy, shaking her head in appreciation, then at Reed as he opened the door and walked over with a bag of his own supplies.
“Reed, I can’t believe this.” Molly, Reed, and Betsy had gone to school together. Molly had known Reed long before he’d married Betsy.
“Don’t worry, Molly. This right here is not happening. Silas just reported a heart attack.” He walked over, put a stethoscope on Silas’ chest for one second. “Good news, Silas, it looks like you’re going to survive.”
Molly chuckled. EMT games. Reed had to justify his trip to Summer’s End.
“This is not going into our work report today. None of us have any idea where you’re getting these supplies. Who knows what you might need, but this is what a professional search and rescue team would carry.”
Reed carried his bag over to a table, and Molly put Vivian’s kit next to it.
Reed opened both kits and spread the gear out.
Starting at one end, he walked Molly through each item.
There was a surgery kit complete with scalpel, needle and thread; a wide variety of antibiotics; bandages and tape; splints for broken bones; and an IV kit packed on dry ice.
“Have you ever hooked anyone up on IV?”