Page 66 of Highland Stars
Makenna extensively photographed the museum, including a proof-of-life photo for her mom where she posed as if she lived in one of the homes. She raises her phone now to document our car picnic, capturing both of us in the frame.
“Will you send that one to me? And the one you sent your mom? And any of the ones you’re in?”
Makenna grins. “Of course. Would you like any of the ones I took of you?”
“Nah, I see enough of myself. Also, it would be a waste of time to remember this day with a photo you weren’t in.”
Makenna laughs and looks at her phone. “No service. Remind melater.”
“Will do.” I back out of my space, then take her hand in mine. “Ready to see the sheep?”
“For real this time?” She acts like she had really been put out by this delay.
I know better.
“For real this time.”
I climb down out of the back of Rabbie’s truck, and brush debris from my breeks. The dogs, who accompanied me on our journey to the pasture sit, patiently awaiting their master’s orders.
“Good doggies.”
“Made some friends back there?” Makenna asks, joining me. She rode up in the cab with Rabbie.
“Oh, aye. I know this one”—I point to the dog who leaned against me for the entire ride, who is now keeping one eye on me and one on Rabbie from her perch in the back of the truck—“on a deep, personal level.”
Makenna grins and turns to Rabbie. “What’s this dog’s name?”
“That’s Skye. I’ve had her the longest of these three, and she thinks she’s in charge of them. Which”—heshrugs—“maybe she is.”
“Skye took a shinin’ to Malcolm,” Makenna informs my cousin.
I laugh. Did she just say,took a shinin’ to?
Rabbie chuckles. “Who can blame her?”
“Not me,” she says to Rabbie, then glances at me with her wee smile. My heart takes flight. I want to take her face in my hands and kiss that bonnie smile until she can no longer stand.
I groan, and Makenna looks at me curiously. I shake my head and smile. We’re caught up in a moment until Rabbie gives two sharp whistles. The dogs burst from the back of the truck and line up beside him.
Makenna looks thoroughly impressed, and they haven’t even started moving sheep.
She leans in and whispers, “I kinda feel bad for the dogs. Do you think they work all the time?”
“Ah, no need to feel bad for them, they love having a job. This kind of stuff is in their bones. Plus, I’m sure Rabbie treats them like family.”
One long whistle sends the dogs running. They listen and obey a series of whistles, moving the sheep to the left and to the right, corralling them forward and through the gate to the next pasture.
“Does everyone whistle to tell the dogs where to go?” Makenna asks Rabbie.
“No. Many people use calls. I use whistles because it’s whatour grandad taught me to do.”
“Good thing you can whistle. My whistle sounds like a whisper.” Makenna puckers her lips and blows. I can barely hear the results. But, personally, I wouldn’t call that pucker a wasted effort.
“Maybe it’s so high pitched that only dogs can hear it,” I jokingly suggest.
Makenna snorts a laugh. “Yes. In that case, I’d be perfect for this job.”
“Absolutely perfect.”
