Carol Hamilton

"Okay boy, I know what we can do."  Scally tucked the fuzzy ball under his arm, climbed up the mesa past the boulder, and put the puppy down inside the cave.  Bouncer lapped the water, his curly tail flapping back and forth.  Then drooling, he turned to the crackers and cheese;  they disappeared in an instant.
 
Scally lay back in the dark moist coolness, resting his head on a smooth rock, and allowed the puppy to climb over him and lick his face.
 
Finally he sat up.  "Now," he said, "I've got to start training you.  If you want to live out here, you've got to learn obedience.  My mom says this is a harsh and unforgiving land.  If you don't obey its rules, you die."
 
He raised his voice a little.  "Sit!"  He said the words firmly and lifted the pup's chin, gently pushing down on its haunches.  Bouncer looked at him, wagged his tail, and stood up as soon as Scally removed the pressure.
 
"No," Scally said.  "Sit."  He repeated the procedure over and over again.  In a short while the puppy began to follow his command.
 
 "You're a smart dog."  He scratched the soft downy fur on the puppy's head.  "Now, when I leave and I say, 'Sit,' you're gonna have to sit right there and not follow me.  I'll be back in the morning.  And I'll save you some of my breakfast.  But you've got to follow commands.  Do you understand?"  The puppy seemed to agree.
 
"Okay, then.  Sit.  And good-by."  Scally took two steps and scowled back at the puppy when it began to rise off its haunches.  "Sit!  Good dog.  Now stay!"
 
Scally slid back down the mesa.  Behind him, the puppy whined softly.  Scally did not look back.  He would show Bouncer that he trusted him not to follow.  Scally hurried through the desert landscape.  Even if the puppy didn't want to obey, the boulder and the height of the rocky ledge would probably keep him inside the cave.