The desperate calls of the cattle had chased Lucky and Clash back to the highway where Lucky had barked for backup. The two dooryards were perhaps one hard chase to exhaustion between and from the highway, Lucky could hear the distressed cattle, now that he knew what to listen for.

It was Vinny that showed up. The old gray dog moving stiffly as he trotted across the way. “Lobo’s man is coming, he’s getting guns first.”

“Why?” Lucky asked, head tilting to one side. “There isn’t any danger here.”

“You sure about that, pup?” Vinny said. “Time was, I’d say you’s right. These days?” He heaved a heavy sigh as he followed Lucky down the path toward the dooryard. “These days, it’s everywhere.”

As their paws kicked up dust from the dry earth, Lucky couldn’t help but think of all the time they had spent together between their two back yards. The first thing Lucky could remember was Girl’s warm arms cuddling him in the car so very long ago. He had met Vinny later that same day. The old gray pitbull had seemed old even then, but he always had time for the puppy next door.

“I can’t believe how much everything has changed in the past few days.” Lucky said.

Vinny’s walk was stiff and slow. “Everything is always changing.” Vinny said after a moment of silence. “The minute ya get used to the way things are, they change.”

Lucky’s copper colored brows drew together. “Even before? I didn’t notice before.”

The gray dog grunted. “You just ain’ lived long enough, pup.”

The bigger dog chuffed out a breath in a deep sigh. “Done plenty of livin’ in the last few days, Vinny.”

The pitbull panted out a laugh. “Not dyin’ ain’ livin’.”

They finally stepped into the dooryard, the loud lowing of the cattle bounced from building to building across the dooryard. The long and winding drive dumped into the dooryard from the west, leaving the sprawling gravel stretch of parking opening eastward. On the northern edge was a low, rambling ranch home that had seen better days and none of them recently. Peeling white paint cracked and curled around a building that was only a few narrow breaths above ramshackle. The front had caved inward and tilted wildly on one rusted hinge. Directly across from the house was a pair of buildings. A long stable and a machine shed stood side by side. Something large had impacted the machine shed and the western half of it was nothing more than a massive pile of rubble.

The pastures lay to the east, spreading as far as the eye could see. The nearest held a half dozen sturdy looking horses, beyond that were cattle. Cattle as far as the eye could see. Pawful after pawful of soft looking, big eyed cattle. Big eyed cattle with swollen udders and loud mouths. Behind the stables and the machine shed was the milking parlor, the only building in the entire area that looked bright and well kept.

“They sure are loud.” Vinny complained as his brown eyes swept over the cattle.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“Yeah. And upset. The weird part is they’re not saying anything.”

“What?” Vinny asked as his attention snapped back to Lucky.

“They’re calling out again and again, but they’re not saying anything. There’s no meaning to it. It’s just noise.”

As their eyes met, Vinny still looked confused and Lucky made a frustrated grumble. He tried again to explain. “They’re not doing much more than screaming. Calling out over and over. Not names, not words, just yelling.”

“Can they talk?” Vinny asked.

“No idea, but they sure can yell.” Lucky answered.

Vinny chuckled dryly.

Lobo’s Man wasn’t far behind Vinny in his trek across the highway. When he rounded the last curve in the drive, he carried a rifle with an easy familiarity. “Holy cow.” He muttered as he jogged over to join the dogs.

Lucky narrowed his eyes, looking up into Lobo’s Man’s face. “That was terrible.”

“But funny.” The big man answered with a chuckle. “This is a really good find. Unfortunate for the neighbor, but it’ll be good for us in the long run.”

“I suppose.” Lucky mused, drawing in deep breaths through his nose. “Cows are loud.”

“They need to be milked. Wonder if anyone knows how to do that.” His dark eyes searched the dooryard. “Let’s get the calves set loose with the herd. It’ll help at least a little. Vinny, why don’t you head on back and find out if there are any people who know how to work a dairy farm.”

The pitbull turned and made his slow way back town the drive, grumbling under his breath.

“What are we going to do with a dairy farm?” Lobo’s Man asked.

Lucky snorted, “You mean what are you going to do with a dairy farm. Girl and I have a mission out there.”

“Lucky dog.” The big man grumbled.

The dog snorted sharply. “Terrible.”

“But funny.” Lobo’s Man said with a wide grin.

While Lobo’s Man started heading toward the small white sheds where the young calves were kept, Lucky trotted toward the house. The smell was dry and old, musty and strange. Despite the decay visible on the outside of the house, the interior was scrupulously clean. Or at least it had been, before. The wood floors gleamed with polish and old braided rag rugs were scattered throughout the rooms. Antique furniture, exceptionally well cared for, overfilled each room. All of this was obvious to even the most casual inspection. All of it though, was merely the canvas upon which was painted a scene of utter destruction.

In the entryway, the colorful rug was torn and there were deep gouges in the bright wooden floor. The plaster was crumbling all along one wall and there was a strange smear of something the color of mustard that ran down one wall and across part of the floor. From the foyer, the house opened out into one big room that held most of the pieces of a house. The television, an old projection model, had a hole in it bigger than Lucky’s head. The couch was in shambles, somehow looking even worse due to the massive floral pattern that spread over its shabby frame.

In the part of the open room that was the kitchen, most of the cupboards had been pulled off the walls and broken bits of china had been scattered over the floor. Some pieces had been ground into the flooring. Lucky couldn’t quite suppress a low toned whine as he looked over the destruction. A short hallway would normally lead further into the house, but a load bearing wall had collapsed, blocking the hall.

Lucky padded back out into the dooryard just as Lobo’s Man started leading the calves into the pasture. The loud mooing continued. The big dog’s ears twitched back and forth uncomfortably. One of the horses neighed, drawing Lucky’s attention. It too didn’t seem to be speaking, just yelling. The big dog’s pale eyes narrowed as they scoured the dooryard and its surroundings. That strangely ominous feeling that had become so familiar swelled to life deep in his core.

[Dangersense].