Hank the Cowdog: The Case of the Displaced Dog

by KarmaSentinal

Arc 1: The Legendary Brahman King

Sometimes I amaze even myself.

Through my sheer determination and resilience I had managed to push myself beyond most dogs capabilities, and because of this I couldn’t feel my legs. The act of walking itself has become little more than a chore; a routine that had became the norm over the last couple of days.

On the plus side, the sun had finally drifted slowly behind.. actually now that I think about it, the sun hasn’t moved at all.

Even the laws of the Natural Order don’t follow themselves here. What kind of lawless land have I found myself on? Next you’re going to tell me that the moon howls itself up and that flying pigs control the weather to?

Pardon my poodle but that’s poppycock.

I’m well aware that there are some things that science and logic just can’t explain but to call it paranormal is something I’d expect Drover to do. Mysteries and unexplainable events are simply forces that at the time can not be identified, but do have a reason or an explanation that at the present time is hiding. Yes, hiding like a game of peek-a-boo. Still, just because a reason hasn’t been disclosed doesn’t mean it’s of the supernatural.

As for the sun’s lack of movement, the leading theory amongst the top scientist is that the day has been really long and therefore its taking a nap.

Don’t look at me like that. It’s a natural feeling to nap after a good day’s work and who are you to judge if the very the sun joins us in a summer past time? Normally I would be against such a slack in responsibilities but I’m to tired to stop my wonderings and give that burning ball the yip, bark, snap. Normally that's enough to get the point across, but let's hope it doesn’t come to that.

If the lazy sun wants to ignore the laws of nature, than it’s the responsibility of the parent to discipline their child. But this presents a problem.. I’m unable to tell which direction I’m traveling in or the time of day, but at least the hills from earlier have been getting bigger so thats a plus right? Hopefully I’ll reach the base by nightfall where I can finally lay down for a well deserved rest.

By now I remembered why exactly it's a bad idea to stare directly at the sun and quickly correct that mistake. Even with my eyes closed, the pixelated tingling of discomfort harassed my vision to the point I couldn’t see yet again. Never in my life have I lost my sight on the job and suddenly I lost it twice in one day! Recalling how I fixed it the first time, I repeated the process by rubbing my eyes with my paws and through the power of deduction proved that rubbing your eyes works.

Once, twice, and two more times I blinked and was awarded to a hazy scene of floating blocks. A blinked once more for good measure. Sure enough the pixelation from before had transferred to the real world making the dust being kicked up look like those little wooden blocks Alfred likes to play with and.. am I seeing things?

This time I didn’t blink but instead rubbed my eyes once more to witness the pixel dirt blocks blurring together- like a dancing snake crossing an egg frying road. Living on the ranch, this phenomena is a regular occurrence, mostly in the summertime because of the heat, but this was a strange pasture and so I couldn’t completely past off this dancing..pixel dirt snake just yet.

I had just put one paw forward to resume my wonderings when I took one more look at the pixel dirt snake which had finally turned into a wavy dirt wave. The ground in the far off distance had lost the pixelation only to be replaced with the desert’s signature wave of heat; I had nothing better to do so I watch these lines waving up and down like someone had taken a jump rope and was flailing their arms up and down. Soon my thirst became unbearable and those wavy lines slowly metamorphosed into ocean waves.

The distance between me and my wonderfully cool hallucinations was still a painstaking walk away, but despite the distance it did little to quell the festering temptation brewing within. The urge was growing as those magnificent waves continued bobbing up and down like those little ducks do at the town fair. You know, the ones people line up and take pop shots at?

Speaking of those balls of yellow, I always wanted to try my luck at that sort of game, but alas I was never offered a chance. So, being the perfect example of a good cowdog, I simply sat off to the side and watched as the people hollered and cheered as the enticing ducks fell one by one.

To sit there quietly and hear the level of response and praise each person received stoked the embers of my pride as I, at times, would drift off and imagine all of the excitement were for me.

“Hank!” they would shout as I entered the ring. The crowd would shout my name three more times in rapid succession until the announcer quieted them down.

I would wait until complete silence was given before looking to the left and than to the right. Once everything was in place, I would inhale as much air as my lungs could hold before closing my eyes, arching my back and raising my muzzle to the sky. The entire crowd would listen as I howled- mesmerized by the seemingless transition from pitch to pitch all the while constantly adjusting the frequency to keep the whole tune in balance.

This skill is a trait passed down through the lines of my ancestors. Something I’m mighty proud off, but like many family secrets there are some questionable or scandalous things mixed in there. For you see.. cowdogs and the wild dogs of the prairie are in fact related. How do I know this startling revelation when no one else knows you ask?

Well surprisingly I learned it from the coyotes.

Now, I know you’ll rush to the conclusion that they’re lying to confuse me or are playing a joke on me, but let me tell you otherwise. At first I didn’t believe them naturally mostly because they didn’t have any real reason to go about advertising this family laundry in the open and yet that was what gave them some credibility. What was there to gain from them telling me besides the fact at the time I was courting the Chief's daughter? Still, I took everything they said with a grain of salt but a lot of it did sound plausible including the reason why several of their songs and cowdog howls sounded similar. Heck, it would explain why Rip, Snort and me got along so well, especially as we sang together all night.

I opened my eyes when a random speck of dirt impacted along side my cheek- it seemed I lost myself in that daydream and mini lecture but considering the days I’ve been having it’s a welcomed relief.

Sadly, this didn’t last. Sometime during my lost of conscious thought, I had gained considerable ground which is nice and all but out of nowhere my oceanic ilusion had once again metamorphosed into something else, namely several dozen cows closely huddled together to form a giant shag carpet. I had to squint but I managed to pick up some key details about these rather long haired cows. They were big, not in the tall sense but in terms of pure muscle, but strangely they only had two stubby little horns instead of the long horns one would expected them to have resting on their heads.

Another major thing that made these cows different from the ones in our grazing pasture was their stature. You see, most cattle (including the bulls) are normally the height of High Loper or Slim with a very long back that could be mistaken for a plank of wood. This wasn’t the case here.

Their backs were much shorter than anything I’ve seen in all my years on the force. Instead of being straight, their backs, starting from the rump gradually climbed until reaching the shoulders into an almost pure lump of muscle. Plus they were darker to. Too dark to offer any protection from the warm sun, and it didn’t help they were bunched up shoulder to shoulder either. I know they’re cattle but what breed I can’t say.

I couldn’t place my paw on it but they did look familiar. The kind of familiarity that if you were told the name, you would feel silly afterwards, but still what an exotic kind of breed.

Wait! They are exotic aren’t they? That’s why I can’t identify them, its because they’re not a local breed and therefore only a few ranches would have them. Off the top of my head, I can only recall two ranches in the surrounding counties to have any sort of extoic animal, espeically cows- a ranch north of Abilene and one south of Abilene, near another town by the name of.. Buffoon Gap? The name’s not important but it's said this ranch has cattle many a cowdog would wait their entire career to glance at and never see them. A breed so legendary that their name alone would..started to send my mouth a watering.

“Brahman.” I don’t believe my luck!

I haven’t given up the hope of never finding the ranch even though there was just the tiniest speck of doubt, but now that’s no longer the case. If the herd in front of me was indeed Brahman than I could use them to show me their Ranch HQ and from there I can call Slim to come pick me up! No more blistering heat, no more walking or sore legs!

I couldn't contain my excitement any longer and despite a terrible dryness in the back of my throat, I let loose the loudest and by far the longest howl in my entire life. This caught their attention as they were now most definitely looking my way. I tried to wag my tail to show them I meant no harm, but I couldn’t feel it because of all the walking so I can't really say if they got the message or not.

Was I going to let such a minor thing as numbness and dizziness stop me? Never! Feeling this new revival of energy coursing throughout my body and a disorientating headache now banging against my head, I lifted a paw and placed it forward.. and promptly blacked out.

__________________________________________________________________________

The dusting wind had finally began to settle as the afternoon sun held fast and asserted her dominance over all under her rule. A cycle of the plains that has been the way of life since the herd first left their huts and took to the open land.

Keeping up this time honored way of life, Chief Thunder Hooves strolled forward through the gathered mass of warriors as they encircled the cows and calves. They were doing has they always had, wandering the barren lands when a war cry was given forcing the entire herd to ready themselves for an attack.

They waited.. unmoving as the lingering breeze casually collected stray grains of sand and broken rock. As his hooves landed, the ground fractured even more; his massive head tilted from side to side as his eagle eyes scanned for the one that had the gall to threaten his herd.

“Any sighting young one?” he asked, is booming base of a voice carried the question against the wind.

He waited for a couple of hoof steps when he felt the shifting weight on this back answering.

“Nothing yet father! Just more badlands and that volcher from the other day circling above but whatever made that cry is likely gone by now.”

“Maybe the wind is playing us for fools, but we most remain weary Little Strongheart.”

His only reply was a light tapping of her front hooves on his back. It could have simply been the young buffalo trying to maintain her balance, but he took it as an acknowledgement all the same. Chief Thunder Hooves spared a glance back to the living wall where a slight nod was given and two bodies splintered from the main herd and took their place trailing behind the enormous buffalo.

With each step he took, Chief Thunder Hooves felt his daughter struggling to maintain her balance. Strongheart is tough and wouldn’t fall because of a little uneven terrain, but it didn’t mean he would purposely make it difficult for her and quickly brought his stride down to more of a light jog.

With the distance growing between their little group and the main herd, Thunder Hooves waited until they had finally passed the lone standing cactus before signaling the young warriors to break off. The two bulls immediately followed their orders and sped up until they were flanking their chief, with about three buffalo lengths between them.

With their formation established, they gradually slowed till a full stop, but ready to run at a moment's notice. All were still as they scanned the crackling dry land for something to ease their weariness.. or confirm their worries. Talking the bird in the tree approach, Strongheart took a perch on her father’s broad head, using his feathered crest to block some of the unwarranted heat. Whatever the sound’s origin, it appeared to have taken off rather than stay to face the might of the tribe. Her father had came to the same conclusion.

“Come brothers, let us tell the herd the threat is no longer present. Let us be off and continue with the Great Run.”

The two bulls said nothing as they turned to follow their chief’s declaration to bring the good news back to the rest of their giant roaming community. Thunder Hooves didn’t follow the young warriors and instead stayed behind with his gaze still wearily observing the land they were about to cross. Every day, no matter how small the struggles presented to them none of them could ignore that their way of life is still dangerous.

A few nights in his younger days he would often wonder whether or not he should continue the traditions carried on by his father's before him or perhaps take the rougher path and led his herd down a trail untouched by no other. Would they accept this clear treason against their culture to explore a possible future vastly different from the one carved out by their ancestors? A question he never had the heart to find out for himself and somewhat regrettably chose to keep up the tried and true way.

Yet, maybe change for their species was still possible.

Little Strongheart, true to her name never flinched from duty but instead just dove straight into any action that stood in her way. The little buffalo in the past and even now had shown little fear in challenging and or confronting every obstacle dumb enough to show itself. In her strength did his old worries and hopes for the future of their species live on.

His ears caught the grinding sound of several dozen sets of hooves smashing the dirt into dust as they all, one by one joined their chief in his silent contemplating. Not one individual made a sound as they squinted in silent observation of the vast expanse before them. When the silence became.. well silent and boring, their lapse in attention became too much and soon the protective mothers loosened their iron rule and began allowing their calves to play. A few retained the importance of herd sentry and resumed the search for the mysterious creature from before.

With this relaxing of tension while still maintaining a watch helped ease their worries. In a strange way, this continued offering of security while others did what they wanted in the knowledge they were protected helped reinforcing their core belief that family and community is strength. As long as they stayed together in spirit and…

Suddenly, out of nowhere, an ear splitting screech assaulted their ears and became the messenger for all major events to come later. There was no warning. No sign that could have been used to prevent this tragedy from happening; many moons from now in the far off future the survivors will continue to recount this event that will later become known to all races in the world.

The day that very lands coughed up the dreaded Aged Mut of Chaos.

“Look! Over there!” someone cried with a hoof pointing off in the distance, just slightly to the left.

There, standing in almost complete stillness was a four legged creature that was almost as tall as a young pony. From this distance, they couldn’t make out any other notable features other than it had some sort of intelligence from how it posed itself.. and just face planted the ground.

Silence was their love, and their life once more as they whole herd said nor moved anything. Instead, they just chose to wait for the creature to make the first move. This lasted about as long as a desert rainstorm.. about half a second.

“Is it a trap?” a young cow called out.

“I don’t know, maybe it’s playing dead.”

“Should we go check on it?” asked another.

“I’ll go!” Little Strongheart declared suddenly as she bolted off her father’s back and dashed for the down animal.

Chief Thunder Hooves watched as his daughter proved his earlier beliefs as she carelessly ran straight into another potentially dangerous situation. He quietly praised her fearlessness spirit but cursed her reckless desire to seek out danger.

“Should have named her Dances with Patience.” he thought as he, and the herd set off following their young chief-to-be.

Comments

[No One and Nobody]

My sister and I are both big fans of Hank the Cowdog. I will definitely be reading this, and so will my sister.
You make me really mad though. We were going to write this, but you beat us to it. I even had the perfect cover image, it took me quite a while to make.
Check it out here. If you want, I'll even send you a copy.
Hank and the Happy Pink Pony

[KarmaSentinal]

6455149 I'm glad to see other Hank the Cowdog fans on fim! I haven't read Hank in a few years and just randomly I wanted to read some Hank Crossovers and to my surprise there weren't any and so I had to change that. I will admit I'm rusty with Hank the Cowdog, and all I really did was dig out my old books for references and started writing.

I will most defiantly read your story, but I have to ask that if/when you do read mine, feel free to point out anything you find wrong ok? I'm trying my best to match Hank's character and write the chapters in a way that gives it the feeling you're reading a Hank the Cowdog book.

Edit: Ok, that is an amazing cover! XD

[Meltian]

My eyes did indeed NOT betray me. Hank the Cowdog. Damn.

I haven't read that series since probably around 2000, when I was in fifth grade.

It was my favorite series of all time back then. I had always wished they made a cartoon out of it. Those hopes were never fulfilled.

The Story synopsis even stays true to what you would have read on the back of one of those books.

[Architect Ironturtle]

Well, well, well. I'll be keeping an eye on this one.

[KarmaSentinal]

6455763 I didn't know about this until I started refreshing my knowledge of Hank the Cowdog, but they're working on an animated movie. http://www.hankthecowdog.com/blog/trailer-for-the-upcoming-hank-the-cowdog-movie

[Meltian]

6456834

Awww. I had always imagined him with a deeper voice. The accent is spot on, though. Just make the voice a few octaves deeper and that's how I imagined it.

Also, looks like my childhood dream is coming true. It's getting an animated series.