Across the Creek

Entry for the Daily Flash Fiction contest (08/28/26)

It was a calm day and Rutherford sat alone, watching over the little herd of cattle in the south pasture. The guardian dog was enjoying the cooler temperatures as summer ended and fall began.

His quiet contentment was intruded upon, however, when he heard a long, low howl only a short distance away.

The dog was on his paws instantly, bellowing out the fiercest barks he could. The howling paused, then started again. There was no chorus, only one lone voice. It seemed to be coming from across the creek which ran along the eastern edge of that pasture.

Cautiously, but curiously, he made his way toward the sound.

Ruherford went with hackles raised and a growl rumbling in his throat. Surely there was a wolf somewhere near, waiting for its chance to attack the calves that had been born only two days earlier. But the scent he caught was not that of a wolf.

"Something is wrong here," he grumbled as he splashed across the shallow creek.

Before his paws were on dry land again he heard the reply of, "Yes, something is wrong! Thank goodness you heard me."

It had not been the voice of a wolf that he had heard, but that of the farm collie, May. She was standing in a little clump of brush and trees beside a newborn calf. The mother had crossed the creek, had her calf, and promptly gone back grazing.

Rutherford led the way, while May encouraged the mother and newborn from behind. Soon enough the two strays were with the herd, where they belonged. The collie then made herself comfortable beside her friend, to help him keep watch. The day was still calm, and now it was a little less lonely.

Word Count: 291