|'Stolen Friendship' by Alice Maxwell |

|Stolen Friendship |
|By Alice Maxwell |
| |
|Mark Tyler was grateful for the shelter of his nephew's home and he tried to show his gratitude. He liked to be outdoors, and so |
|he kept the flower beds in meticulous order, even though kneeling was difficult and getting up was even more so. And when Lucy, |
|his nephew's wife, stayed late at her clubs or charity committee meetings, Mark would have the table set and dinner half going. |
|At such times Lucy would rush in breathlessly and say, "Uncle Mark, you're a darling!" All evening the glow of her words would |
|warm his heart. |
|He was old and his hair was silver-gray, but his eyes were still an unfaded blue in his sun-bronzed face, and his understanding |
|was keen and intuitive. He respected Lucy's wish to have every chair and vase just so, every flower and shrub tended properly. |
|John and Lucy had no children, but they were constantly busy with business and social activities. This, Mark knew, was an |
|unconscious effort to fill in the empty spot in their lives. |
|He was well aware that their hearts were big, or they'd never have taken him into their home. So he was shyly eager to please, |
|humbly happy when they took note of him, careful not to intrude in their lives. And he was lonely. |
|That was how he came to know the setter. It was white, its body flecked lightly with brown, and its legs and tail beautifully |
|feathered. It belongs to the Wilsons, who had recently moved into the colonial house directly across the street. |
|In the daytime, the setter waited through the long hours with brooding, forlorn patience, but when the two small Wilson children |
|came home from school in the afternoon, he burst into lifes with a frenzy of joyous activity waving his tail like a plume. In the|
|evenings, after the children had gone to bed, he lay quietly outside the door, lifting his head eagerly when someone came out, |
|lowering it dejectedly when the person paid him no heed. |
|Old Mark observed all this as he took the walks that were one of his small forms of pleasure, or when he worked in the yard. 'The|
|dog's lonesome, same as me,' he would say to himself and each day he would pause in front of the Wilson house and speak softly to|
|the dog. The setter would lift his head in careful contemplation, his eyes wary. Once when Mark stopped, the setter crept toward |
|him, then suddenly turned and went back to the house. |
|In time, Mark learned that the children called the dog Ricky. And since he had never seen the setter enjoying a bone, he made it |
|a point one day to ask Mrs. Wilson if she minded if he occasionally brought one to Ricky. |
|"Heavens, no!" she said. "I'm afraid the children are the only ones who pay much attention to him. We wouldn't bother with a dog |
|if it weren't for them." |
|When she had gone back into the house, Mark unwrapped the bone he had brought. "You'll like this, fellow," he said gently. He |
|laid the bone on the grass and went back across the street to work in the flower beds. |
|The following day, when Mark Tyler went over, the setter came closer. Then, finally, the day arrived when he carefully took a |
|bone from Mark's hand. Still another day, when there was no bone, he let Mark touched his head briefly. As time went by, the |
|setter began watching for Mark. his tail wagging, his eyes expectant. Slowly, shyly, they grew to know each other, keeping a |
|reserved distance as gentlemen should. |
|One morning as Mark set forth on his walk he found Ricky close behind him. Unsure of his welcome, the dog waited. Then as Mark |
|spoke to him, Ricky began running ahead happily scouting the bushes. After that, they shared a daily excursion. |
|Eventually the setter began coming into the yard when Mark was working in the garden. His approaches were always tentative, as if|
|he had often been repulsed; his amber eyes would search Mark's deeply as he waited for a friendly pat. Then, as if his joy could |
|not be contained, he would race in mad circles until Mark coaxed him into quietness. |
|One day as Mark patted him, the dog lifted one side of his mouth in a painful sort of grimace. |
|"By jingo!" Mark said, laughing. "I'd swear you're smiling at me." |
|Little by little the bond strengthened between the old man and the dog. Each was considerate of the other. Ricky, careful of the |
|Tyler grounds, waited cautiously to join Mark. And Mark, now that the bond of friendship and respect had been established, never |
|called to him; Ricky had a right to give of himself as he chose. |
|Their friendship grew inevitably into love. Ricky's amber eyes lighted when Mark came outdoors. |
|He waved his tail madly or tugged at Mark's trousers or rolled over in an ecstasy of joy. As for Mark, without his quite |
|realizing it, his days took on new life and meaning. |
|Ricky came often at night now, seeming to know the times when Mark was alone, just as he knew Mark's room〞the one with the small|
|porch adjoining, which gave Mark a private entrance to the house. The setter would lie on the mat in front of the door〞or stand |
|waiting until Mark became aware of him. He was aware that he wouldn't be invited to come inside, but if Mark came out and spoke |
|soft, loving words to him, Ricky went home content. |
|The love that Ricky gave to Mark was completely apart from the love he gave to the Wilson children. It was the love of a dog for |
|his master, master who spoke gentle words to him, gave him a bone now and then, took him for walks and waited tolerantly while he|
|made explorations or foolishly chased a low-flying bird... |
|It had never occurred to Mark that Ricky might be taken away from him. The news came with stunning suddenness. First, word spread|
|through the neighborhood that the Wilsons were moving to the country. Next, their house was sold; and then, one bleak day, the |
|moving van came. |
|The void in Mark's life those first few days was almost unbearable. "Uncle Mark, you're doing too much," Lucy told him as he |
|worked ceaselessly at one small task after another. |
|"Have to keep limber," he said, smiling. He didn't talk about Ricky's being gone. He didn't say that a man eighty years old |
|learns to live with pain and disappointment. He said very little at all, and, after a few days, he began taking walks |
|again〞alone. |
|It was on a night about two weeks later〞an evening when Lucy and John were out〞that he heard it, the soft scratching at his |
|door. He waited, his heart pounding, not daring to believe his ears. Then the soft, familiar scratching came again, and with a |
|sudden trembling joy he went to the door and opened it. |
|Ricky was weary and travel-worn, but his amber eyes were alight. And as Mark looked at him, he lifted one side of his mouth in |
|the eager, homely smile. |
|"You didn't forget!" Mark whispered. "You've come back-come back to me〞" But he knew this was not right. Though his hands ached |
|to pat the setter's head, he held back. One rapturous welcome from him and Ricky would be a tramp. The two of them could be |
|friends, sharing loneliness, while the setter lived close by; but now his rightful home was miles away, and a dog so divided in |
|allegiance was no dog at all. Perhaps he understood Ricky better than the Wilsons did, Mark thought, but the Wilson children |
|loved the dog. |
|Mark forced himself to remember Billy Wilson with his arms about Ricky, forced himself to think of Ricky hunting quail and |
|pheasant on forest trails, and romping in wide-open fields amid the excitement of country sounds and smells. |
|As the dog whined softly and drew closer to Marks, the old man's heart was torn between joy and anguish. He drew back from the |
|door and closed it. After a few moments he went to the telephone. |
|"I guess he missed your old house," he said, when he had Mrs. Wilson on the wire. "I thought I'd call before you worried." |
|When Mr. Wilson arrived, Ricky still lay outside Mark's door, his tail quite, his eyes bewildered. |
|"What'll I do?" Mr. Wilson said gruffly to the dog. "Tie you up out there in the country?" |
|Except to say good morning and good evening, Mark had never talked to Mr. Wilson before. Now he said, "That's a fine dog. I know |
|you got him for your children, but part of him needs you too, if you don't mind an old man telling you this." He paused a moment,|
|embarrassed, and then went on.: "Talk to him. Let him lie by your fire at night. Walk through the woods with him. Take him |
|hunting. Get to know him, and you'll never regret it. Two children, country freedom, a man for steadiness〞that's heaven for a |
|dog." |
|Mr. Wilson listened. He had obviously been angry at having to make the long trip into town, but as he gazed at Mark and then down|
|at the waiting dog, his expression changed. "I think you're right. Mr. Tyler," he said. "I〞hadn't thought about that." |
|He reached down and stroked the setter's head. "Well, old fellow, how about going home?" he said. |
|Ricky hesitated and then looked up at Mark, his eyes uncertain. With a hollow sense of loss, Mark knew it was over: he'd never |
|see the setter again. |
|"Go home, Ricky," he said with quiet authority. "Go home, boy" |