SPIKE

THE TRACKS BEFORE ME WERE DEEP AND FAR APART. THEY LED OFF DOWN A ROCLY RIDGE THAT WAS BORDERED BY A BIG OLE CANYON ON EACH SIDE.  in the bottom of each canyon  and  they had big ole oak and mesquite trees in the bottom that looked like  they were inches high. a few minutes ago my dogs had left me at a dead run on the tracks and fresh green moisture scattered in the trail.  no barking could be heard and no cattle bawling was evident. I was a little puzzled. I hadn't seen the cow brute we trailed yet as it was away in front leaven at a long trot! soon my dogs, ned and wiley came back and lay in the shade my horse made as I scanned the country up ahead. the third dog, spike hadn't come back. spick was a little different kinda cow dog. his daddy was a Catahoula and his momma was a red boned hound. he had been given to me by my old friend lyman as he was the last dog lyman had trained. spike had trained the two younger dogs and had let ned take over as the top dog. spike had some age and was slowing down but you couldn't leave home with out him, he still went.  this time he didn't come back, I was worried.  as I started to ride forward my friend wes rode up out of the bottom of the canyon on my right side. he hadn't seen spike or a cowbrute either.  as we rode on wes pointed out a rocky projection ahead and said he saw spike layin at the base of it. as we drew closer I also could see him, laying there with his head between his paws, staring ahead. as we rounded the rock there stood our prey, a big two year old unbranded heifer with her hind quarters to a sharp cliff. her only way out was over spike. and I don't think spike was gonna allow it!!  spike, wiley and ned are gone now. I miss their companionship as well as their honest everyday hard work. at a time I needed a good solid job, they helped me hold one and all they ask in return was a bowel of dog food, and a rub on the head first thing in the morning.