Chapter 1
The whistle screamed through the air, first as it reached the small town of Craig and then again as it left. It was a lone engine, off schedule, rushing down the track at top speed.
The engineer relaxed after he had passed by the town and looked out across the country. This small valley was so pleasant, surrounded close by mountains and sheer gray cliffs, with the wide Missouri river meandering through it. As the engineer thought of the countryside, he failed to notice that down the track walked a girl and four dogs, and the engine was bearing down on them with tremendous speed.
Angie had taken her four dogs out of their kennels and for a walk across the green meadow and down the railroad track that ran between an interstate highway on one side and the Missouri river on the other. Running at the head of the four dogs was the Samoyed, Cressa, her white coat shining in the sun as she happily bounded along. An Afghan Hound romped behind her while the Shetland Sheepdog trotted beside Angie. Gypsy, a gold and white Sheltie, as they are called for short, wore a large potbelly and would soon be due to have puppies. In her arms, Angie carried a young male Sheltie that had just been purchased as a future mate for the adult female. This Sheltie pup was the son of the famous show dog Champion September Showdown from out of Oklahoma. Angie was happy with this dog as she could raise top quality dogs that could win in dog shows.
With the dogs, Angie walked the railroad until she came to Jackson Rock. This large cliff-like rock extended out into the river, sloping down from the top to a flat area that was easy to walk, to a sharp drop off into the river, the rock protruded out into the depths of the river causing the water currents to swirl dangerously at its base. These currents had overturned many a small boat and had legendarily drowned a man named Jackson, and thus the rock was named. But despite its danger, it was a place of beauty. Angie sat on the rock’s floor while the dogs ran freely exploring it, the wide river reflected the bright blueness of the sky, and beyond, the mountains stood high and distinct emphasizing the beauty below them. Angie sat and soaked in the sun on a lazy afternoon and thought about the morning conversation. It was nearing her sixteenth birthday, and she had been hinting for a horse, a bridle, or anything that went with a horse. She really didn’t expect much, but she had big hopes. Mom was a horse lover, but Dad was another story. When Angie talked about the horse to him, his first reply was a grunt, and his second reply was, “We need a horse around here like a hole in the head! Horses are nothing but trouble!” Angie didn’t feel too discouraged though because she knew if she could get Mom’s support, Dad might yield. Dad was married late, and had his children when he was older, so he had a tendency to spoil them.
Angie arose to walk home. She had just crossed a railroad bridge with the dogs when she saw the train. Her body froze when she saw how close it was. Angie was right beside an interstate highway and the cars rushing by made so much noise that she had not heard the train until it was extremely close. Panic rushed over her. The dogs were all running free, off leash and although she knew they would come to her, there was very little time to get them safely off the railway.
“Come on dogs,” Angie called to them trying to keep her voice steady and happy sounding so they would come with her. She started to walk down the steep embankment as the dogs came but she stopped when she saw her young male Sheltie, Flame, confused and hesitant at climbing over the railroad rail. She quickly moved back for him knowing the hesitance of youth could snuff out his life. She scooped him into her arms and moved off the track and into safely below. Angie called to the dogs, her voice shaky, and they all responded and followed her down the embankment except for one. This was Janene, her most expensive and prized dog. She was an elegant Afghan Hound. Angie had shown her in Washington and Montana, and she had brought home many ribbons and trophies. She was a two-year-old dog, and her cream-colored coat was long, well brushed, fine and soft. She was a creature of beauty, but she stood at the top of the tracks defiant at the idea of going any direction except home.
“Janene!” Angie screamed at her, and then trying to control her voice to make it sound pleasant enough and yet demanding enough for her to respond, she repeated over and over, “Come here, come on!”
An Afghan Hound is an independent creature with a mind that is quite their own and although they can be obedient, it is only by their choice. Janene looked at Angie but then placed her nose into a high position as she made her decision and started down the tracks. Angie started up the embankment after her, but as the dogs came faithfully with her, she stopped.
She could not endanger the rest of the dogs for one dog. Angie went to call for her again, but the train was too close, and she stifled her call so she would not distract the dog when she needed to be aware of the engine.
In a moment, the train roared past, and Angie saw the engineer look to the side as if he had seen Janene, Angie felt relieved as the engine rushed away and she thought Janene must be safe. She walked to the top of the railroad and horror filled her when she saw crumpled across the tracks, her Janene.
“Oh no! Oh no! Janene!” Angie cried out as she ran toward her. Angie thought she was dead but when she got close to her, pained eyes looked up.
“Oh Janene, why don’t you listen to me?” Angie moaned as she knelt beside her. She put her arms under the dog and lifted her, feeling an urgency to get her off the railroad. The Afghan cried when she lifted her and turning her head, she bit Angie’s arm. Her arm hurt but the skin was not broken, and she knew the dog had to be in terrible pain to have bitten her. After Angie got her fully off the ground, she relaxed in her arms, and she started for home as fast as she could walk.
Janene weighed over fifty pounds and Angie started feeling hopeless about carrying her the half mile home. Her muscles were aching when she reached the bottom of their meadow and she climbed off the tracks, over a group of large boulders, and down to their fence line. Angie laid the dog under some brush for shade and took off her cowboy hat and laid it beside her. Angie did this instinctively to leave something of herself to comfort Janene. Then she went to the top of the railroad track to take the rest of the dogs home. When Angie reached it, her body was trembling, and she broke into a sob.
“I can’t cry,” she told herself, “I don’t have time. I got to get a hold of myself. There might be another train coming and I must get the rest of the dogs off the tracks.” This thought flooded her mind. Logic left her and fear grasped her. The train route only had two scheduled trains and this train route was rarely used. The chance of another unscheduled train was highly unlikely, but Angie felt danger pending. She hurried down the track at a run and to the fence where the wire was low where they had crawled through before.
Quickly Angie helped each dog over and was literally throwing the dogs through the hole in the fence. When she reached for the Sheltie male, he pulled away from her. She leaned back and grabbed him, muttering, “Flame, there’s a time to be bashful but now is not the time!”
With Flame and the rest of the dogs safely on home ground Angie ran across the alfalfa fields as hard as she could run. Mom and Dad were in the house, but when they saw Angie throwing the dogs through the fence, they knew something was wrong and they came outside. Angie was running across the field, her heart pounding against her chest until it hurt and her breath becoming short and painful. Mom ran from the house out to Angie and grabbed her arm to stop her from running and forced her to walk. Angie tried to speak but was so breathless that for a moment she couldn’t.
“What are you trying to do,” Mom said, “kill yourself?”
“Janene was hit by the train!” Angie sobbed out and the tears flowed.
Realizing what happened, Dad quickly got the car and they drove across the field back to Janene. Angie climbed over the tight railroad fence and felt relieved when she saw Janene’s eyes were clear and bright, which was a good sign. She lay calm now and peaceful. Angie went to the dog and picked her up. This time Janene did not attempt to bite Angie but only whined a pitiful sound. Angie lifted her across the fence to Dad’s awaiting arms and he put her into the car. They rushed to the veterinarian which was a long forty-five minutes away and seemed like forever.
The veterinarian took the dog from Angie’s arms upon arrival and put her on the table. A dark-haired teenage boy dressed in an assistant’s gown walked over to help with Janene. Upon examination it was found that Janene had her hind leg broken, but no other internal injuries.
As the vet was examining Janene, the young vet assistant turned and looked at Angie. There she stood with windblown hair, a dirty tear-streaked face, and blood that had dripped from Janene’s nose covering her arms and hands. He gave her a compassionate smile and said, “Don’t worry! You’ll live!”
