Free No Man's Dog by Jon A. Jackson

villainous woman Jamala Sanders, who had murdered their favorite human, Paul, and then threatened the lives of Frank and Joe. Fedima had not witnessed this incident; it didn’t sway her. She insisted that the dogs were a threat to her child.
    Others were concerned. Dogs that would attack a human, albeit one who represented a danger to their master, were considered by many to be irrevocably damaged. Frank was devoted to them, however. He offered to have them retrained. But that was not acceptable to Fedima. The dogs must be put down. Joe and Helen were drawn into the discussion. They were grateful to the dogs, which were always complaisant toward them. But they soon saw that Fedima would not be swayed. The only compromise was that they would be “gotten rid of,” which meant they would be sent away, presumably to be retrained and given into the possession of someone else, far away. Colonel Tucker saw to it. The dogs were “reassigned” to a K-9 program in another state, to be used by law enforcement.
    The incident pained Frank considerably, but he was learning that his lovely young wife was not to be swayed in matters where she felt strongly. In addition, he found that she would brook no replacement with similar dogs of such a nature. The dog of Anders Ericsson was viewed with suspicion, but it was not really a resident dog and it was not in Fedima’s power to banish it. Anyway, it was tame enough, and the little dog of Joe and Helen, Homes, was deemed safe.
    The next issue encountered was Fedima’s argument that all this open space belonging to her husband, two thousand acres, should be converted to some useful agricultural purpose. For a young woman raised in Kosovo it was unconscionable that so muchopen land was allowed to be “idle.” If Frank refused to cultivate the land, perhaps to raise a good crop of wheat, at least it must be put to use as grazing land. Perhaps a small herd of cattle could be introduced. The land was well fenced, there was ample water, corrals could be built, barns. The idea appalled Frank. Who would tend the cattle? He wasn’t a cowboy. He was a talented gardener, of sorts, dedicated to his small crop of marijuana, which he grew in the house, essentially a greenhouse, complete with an elaborate irrigation system. He had no notion of raising cattle, seeing to their health, feeding them in winter, buying hay, marketing them. Given his avocation, if you could call it that, he was not about to hire hands, more or less strangers who might expose him to legal problems.
    Again, Fedima was insistent. Soon, some fifty head of crossbred red Angus were wandering the hills, placidly chomping on grass, trampling in the hot springs, leaving their abominable splatter everywhere. Fences had to be erected around Joe and Helen’s property, along the river, around the hot springs. A gate was installed on the road to Joe and Helen’s place. It was annoying. It took up far too much of Frank’s time and energy. What next?
    Joe was angry. This was an altogether unacceptable imposition on his Eden. Life had been fine until this idiot woman and her baby had come into the picture. First the dogs, then the cows. Now, with the disquieting information provided by Caspar, Joe felt insecure without the dogs. Franko was supposed to keep an eye on security—he had an elaborate alarm system and even remote TV cameras at the gate—but now he was so busy that Joe knew he wasn’t monitoring the system. Well, who could? The remoteness made you feel secure, at first, and the openness of the approaches, but it was impossible to really be secure without guards. Who wanted that? Strangers couldn’t really protect you. But Joe and Helen had fallen into that square, Home Guard mode. They were no longer Inside,no longer part of the Life. Caspar was just a residue of that life. They were outside, now, out in the free world, and yet not really of that life. Joe marveled at how readily he had fallen in with it. He felt