I called to them. Little Ann came in the store, walking like she was scared.
Old Dan came to the door and stopped. I tried to coax him in. It was no use.
My dogs, never being allowed in the house, were scared to come in.
Grandpa walked over to a hoop of cheese and cut off two chunks about the size of my fist.
He walked to the door, talking to Old Dan. “What’s the matter, boy?” he said.
“You scared to come in? Well, that shows you’re a good dog.”
He handed him a piece of the cheese. I heard it rattle in his throat as he gulped it down.
Grandpa came back and set Little Ann up on the counter.
He chuckled as he broke the cheese up in small pieces and fed her.
“Yes, sir,” he said, “I think we have the best darn coon hounds in these Ozark Mountains,
and just as sure as shootin’, we’re going to win that gold cup.”
Grandpa didn’t have to say that. The way I was feeling, I already had the cup.
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