Free Lost in the Blinded Blizzard by John R. Erickson

pick up and leave?”
    I shot a glance at the brothers. Snort was running a deep post pattern and Rip was winding up to throw the bomb. They were moving farther and farther away from us.
    â€œNo, by George, in his own peculiar way, old Timothy just might have saved our bacon. On the other hand, his own bacon seems to be up for grabs, so to speak.”
    She sniffed at that. “Timothy will survive. Whether or not he will keep his job is another question. I had expected dramatic results, but of a different sort. Shall we go?”
    â€œYes, let’s.”
    And with that, we turned to the west and went streaking up the creek.
    Don’t forget, I still had an important mission to accomplish.

Chapter Twelve: A By-George Happy, Heroic Ending

    W ell, I had somehow managed to dodge another bullet—with a small assist from Madame Moonshine and her phony windbag snake—and now it was time to get back to business.
    Madame and I went plunging into the eye of the teeth of the storm, and soon we disappeared behind the curtain of snow. Shortly after the curtain of snow dropped behind us, I began to suspect that I had lost my axles. Bearings.
    â€œMadame,” I yelled over the wind, “which way is west?”
    â€œJust look for the setting sun.”
    â€œThe sun isn’t setting, and even if it were, we wouldn’t be able to see it for all the snow.”
    â€œThat’s true, and oh dear. It appears that we are lost in the storm.”
    â€œGreat.”
    â€œUnless . . .”
    â€œTell me more about unless .”
    â€œWell, I do have these magical sensory powers, but using them requires a great deal of effort. And if I help you find your way back to the ranch house, you won’t be able to keep me company throughout the rest of the storm.”
    I explained to her just how important this mission was—you know, about the sick baby and so forth.
    She sighed. “Very well, I suppose I can try.”
    She hopped herself up on my back and directed my nose in what I hoped was the right direction, although it seemed all wrong to me.
    I went charging through the snow and wind. The minutes passed. I was getting tired. I’d been out in that terrible storm for several hours, you know, and traveling through that deep snow was beginning to wear me down.
    On and on we went, until at last I had to stop and catch my breath. “Madame, I just hit the bot­tom of my breakfast. I don’t think I can go another step. I guess we’re lost.”
    â€œYes, and I feel terrible about it. You trusted me, didn’t you, Hank?”
    â€œI guess I did, yes.”
    â€œOn the other hand, what is that object directly to our right?”
    I turned my head and squinted into the snow. “Well, let’s see. It looks a little bit like a . . . hmmmm, a yard gate covered with snow.”
    â€œMy goodness, a yard gate? If there is a yard gate, then do you suppose there might be a yard to go with it? And where you find a yard, you often find a house nearby.”
    All at once the pieces of the puzzle were beginning to fall into place. “By George, Madame, I be­lieve we’ve found our way back to the . . . Madame? Madame Moonshine?”
    She had vanished. One second she had been sitting on my back, and the next, she was gone, and hadn’t even bothered to say good-bye, almost as though she had, well, planned it that way.
    Hmmm. That was a very strange little owl, but you might say that I didn’t take the time to think about it, because right then my most important job was to bark at the house and finish my job.
    Using the very last of my energy reserves, I waded through a deep drift and collapsed on the porch. I wasn’t sure that I had enough energy to scratch on the door. I mean, I was beat, wiped out.
    Exhausted.
    On Death’s doormat.
    Going into convulsions of tiredness.
    Frostbitten and snow-blinded and hypothermiated. No ordinary dog could have . .