He sometimes wondered about things that fly. Donny watched the butterfly glide to the edge of the cliff where a bush wavered in the silentness of the mountains. It settled on a tiny limb. The dog growled at it. "Like it, Fred?" Donny said to his dog. The dog shook his stubby tail and barked. Donny and Fred always watched and wondered about things together. They understood things like sunsets, and especially animals. Fred seemed to know why nature was like it was. Donny and Fred were thinkers, and this is the reason Donny liked Fred for a pet. Fred could let him know about nature more than his parents, even though he couldn't talk words. Donny knelt at his dog's side and ruffled his hair. "We'd better go home now," said Donny to Fred. "Maybe mom'll be mad." Donny turned and stepped on the trail to the city. Puffs of dust jumped at his ankles as his feet hit the ground. After a few steps, Donny stopped and turned around. Fred was still at the edge of the cliff. "Wants that butterfly," laughed Donny to himself. Donny watched Fred observe the butterfly. Fred lurched lightly forward at it, but it still clung to the tiny limb. Donny noticed how clumsily Fred's legs held him up. This reminded him of a turtle he had seen in a zoo, because Fred was so slow and clumsy. "Fred always has liked butterflies," Donny thought. 26 "Com'on, Fred," he called, but Fred still stood at the edge. "We already know about butterflies," said Donny. Suddenly the place where Fred had lurched began to crumble over the edge of the cliff. "Fred!" Donny yelled as he ran towards him. The miniature avalanche carried the dog into the air as Donny jumped at him. Fred was flailing at the sandy air as if to get hold on some of the grains. He floated toward the bottom. Over and over he twisted through the air as he floated toward the rocks below. Fred smashed onto the bottom on his side. Donny could hear the crunching of splintered bones. Donny lay at the edge a moment, waiting. Then he saw patches of bloody red forming around his dog below. He's bleeding, thought Donny. Why did he have to be so clumsy. He could have jumped if he wasn't so clumsy. Fred and the blood and the rocks dimmed in salt-stinging tears, as Donny scrambled to his feet and began running down the trail to the bottom. "I'll carry 'im home cause he can't be dead," he said to himself as he ran, stumbled and fell. He lay there panting with dirt on the end of his nose. How will I know about butterflies if he's dead, Donny asked himself. I can't ever come here again without Fred, he sobbed. But maybe he'll be barkin' when I get there, thought Donny. He shoved himself to his feet and started running again towards Fred. Tears crawled down his cheeks into the corners of his sandy smudged mouth. He ran faster. 27