A Story by Michael "Little Bear" Williams

My Dog, Bob, had a past.....


In a small town in West Texas, around the year 1863...

     A small fellow named Bob was found roaming the streets of Nowater, Texas. The town really wasn't named Nowater, but then, it really wasn't much of a town and... well, there wasn't much water. There was a saloon. The saloon always had plenty of whiskey and more than enough cowboys and outlaws to keep the barkeep busy.

     The blacksmith was a hard working fellow who didn't go to the saloon, but did do all the shoes for all the horses of all the cowboys and outlaws.

     When Bob and the blacksmith ran into each other, they became quick friends and soon Bob was living in the blacksmith's shop. Over the years, the blacksmith taught Bob a lot of things and always looked out for him. In return, Bob was very loyal and looked after the blacksmith's shop. Bob would rarely go anywhere and he would never go to the saloon because the black-

smith told him that it was a very bad place; even though,Bob knew that the blacksmith would go there sometimes late at night when he thought Bob was asleep.

     One Friday night, late in the Fall, the blacksmith did not come home from the saloon. Bob was very worried. After a few days, it became unbearable and Bob had to try and find the blacksmith. Bob decided to go to the saloon. 

     When Bob walked into the saloon, everyone looked  at him. He tucked his head down and walked to the bar. Before he could even open his mouth, the barkeep yelled really loud, "get out!" Bob was so scared that he turned and ran out. One of the outlaws

even kicked him in the rear-end while yelling something that Bob didn't even understand.

     It didn't take long before Bob figured he had nothing left to loose; so, back to the saloon he went.

     This time, he only made it about halfway to the bar when the barkeep screamed at him, "Get out you mangy dog and don't you ever come back!" Bob grit his teeth and tried to be brave; but, just then one of the outlaws pulled his gun and shot several times at the floor right next to Bob's feet. One of the bullets hit the side of Bob's foot and it hurt really bad. Crying, Bob limped back to the blacksmith's shop.

     Things in Nowater seemed to go back to the way they had always been. The saloon stayed busy, the barkeep stayed busy and the cowboys and outlaws stayed drunk. And, no one had seen Bob.

     Spring came along as it does every year; of course, it's kind of hard to tell in West Texas, but there did seem to be something in the air...

     The barkeep opened up the saloon, as always, Saturday morning and by Noon, (well, pretty close to Noon, as the town cactus was casting no shadow) the saloon was already quite crowed.

     Like a lighting bolt from a clear blue sky, the saloon doors flew open and the blazing sun flooded the room. All the cowboys, all the outlaws and the mean old barkeep stopped and stared at the doorway. At first, all they saw was a black figure surrounded by bright light. Stepping into the room, the figure became clearer...

     Black leather boots with silver spurs, black leather chaps with silver snaps, black leather vest with silver buttons, black leather hat with a copper band, (the blacksmith's shop didn't have all that much silver on hand), black leather holsters with nickel plated six-guns on each hip... There stood that mangy dog, Bob!

     Pulling out both of his six-guns at the same time, with a spin and a flip that would have made even John Wayne give his official "Okie Dokie", Bob shot the hats and gun belts off the biggest and baddest of the outlaws,(quicker and better than Clint Eastwood himself, in his best spaghetti western). Everyone was dumb-struck and stood still, with their mouths hanging open, but no one was as shocked as the barkeep as Bob's six-guns stopped with the barrel of each one pointed right in the eyes of the barkeep and Bob said...

     "I,m looking for the man who shot my paw!"


     Bob didn't shoot anyone. Before anything happened, the horn of a 1972 Chevy pick-up truck beeped twice, (yes, everyone was pretty much surprised by that) and Bob heard the blacksmith yell, "come here Bob!" Bob ran out and, through his tears of joy, he saw his best friend ,the blacksmith, and sitting next to him (in the 1972 Chevy pick-up truck) was a very pretty Mexican girl who was holding a very, very, pretty little Mexican dog (Bob thought they were called cholupos, or chowoowoos, or something like that. but he really didn't care at the time.)

     Bob jumped into the back of the pick-up truck and they sped off toward... 

     Well, Bob didn't know (or care) where they were speeding off to, he was just so very excited to see his best friend again, and their new friends...

     They wound up in Montana where they opened up a candy store and lived "happily ever after!"

M.S.W. © 20008

© 2010 Michael "Little Bear" Williams

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Added on December 5, 2010
Last Updated on December 5, 2010


Michael "Little Bear" Williams
Michael "Little Bear" Williams

Cincinnati, OH

A big Heart wrapped in a rough leather exterior... more..