The beagle leaned over his creation, his eyes doing one more appraisal of his months of handiwork. While the pads of his fingers traced meticulously over the workings of pipes and pistons, his tail thumped with nervous energy behind him. He was going over the assembly a second time when a gentle pressure on his shoulder distracted him. He turned to see his border-collie wife standing behind him. He straightened to look up at her, a restless smile showing on his muzzle.
She stood a head taller than him, and she kept her hand on his shoulder as she looked upon him with pride. She could sense his excitement. "You know it will work, don't you, hon?"
"Yes, I'm sure it will" he replied, as his tail bumped against her leg. "It's just that I wish your father would get here so we could get started."
"He'll be here shortly. You didn't need to get up so early you know," she said, a chuckle evident in her voice. "And if you hadn't rushed through breakfast, you wouldn't be waiting so long now." She emphasized her point by nosing his ear.
He feigned a sheepish smile. "I know dear, it's just I can't wait any longer. We should've tested it out last night when we had a chance."
"Now you know we told him we'd wait until he was here before doing that. It's only fair, since he's helped you out so much with it."
"Now isn't that the truth" came a jovial voice behind them, and they turned to see an older collie entering the workshop.
"Good-morning, Roger" the beagle greeted him. The smaller dog's ears perked up at the awaited guest's entrance.
"Yes, I'm sure it will be a good one indeed," his patron replied through an opened-mouth smile. "So this is it?" he asked, pointing to the re-designed cart and the metal contrivance built into the back of it. "I finally get to see it finished. Is it all set to go?"
"Yes, we finished the final tests last night, and were just waiting for you. What do you think of it" the beagle asked, as he cocked his head slightly to one side and looked up at his father-in-law."
"It looks a might strange," and with a flick of his ear, the collie then added "but also fantastic. I think my daughter was definitely right about you son, and I believe that today's demonstration is going to prove the worth of my funding this project." He smiled as he saw the look of pride on the young couple's faces, and how the beagle pulled his wife close to him.
He paused briefly then asked, "how fast do you think it'll go?"
"I'm not sure," his son-in-law replied, his voice becoming more serious. "Last night we had the engine up almost all the way and it was doing great, but of course it wasn't under any load." He paused then added "we probably won't be able to get it up to a full gallop today, that'll take some more work, but we should get it going at a quick trot with no problem."
"That'll certainly be good enough. I can hardly believe it, a self- powered cart without a horse, what a marvel. I knew you had a good idea there. It's going to make some big changes."
"I know, think of the power, the speed."
"Don't forget the money" the collie interjected with a broad grin on his muzzle. "I'm sure we can get them to let us show it off down at the track, and then there'll be a few clients who'll want one built for them. After that who knows how far it can go."
"I know, but I'm just excited about what it can do right now. Come on, help me get it outside."
The three of them grabbed hold and pushed, and soon they had the mechanized cart out in front of the barn. Without any delay, the beagle quickly cranked a handle on the side of the engine, and gave a tug on a lever next to it. The machine sputtered a couple of times, then jumped into life as it released a small cloud of smoke from the exhaust pipe. A rhythmical thumping, popping sound came from inside it.
"Well how about that, it isn't as loud as I thought it'd be. The smell is a bit strong though" the older dog said as he wrinkled his nose slightly.
"True, but when it's moving it won't be as bad, and in some ways it's not as messy as a horse."
"Too true" he replied, his laugh matching his son-in-law's. "Well then, let's try it out."
"Who should get the honors?" the beagle asked, already guessing the answer.
"I think Dad should, since he helped you out so much."
"Oh Molly," the beagle started to reply to her, then paused and turned to look at the older collie. "I guess she's right, I couldn't have done it without you."
"Smart girl," the elder canine answered, not really trying to mask the excited smile on his face. "But don't look so glum Carl, you'll get the next turn."
"No" his daughter interrupted, "you can both go, I'll drive it."
"Are you sure?" The beagle gave his wife a look of slight concern.
"Yes, I watched you at the controls last night. It's just the speed and steering, and you're sure it's safe. You even said it's probably easier than dealing with a horse."
"Okay," he replied, his enthusiasm evident in his eyes, "but I don't want you to open the throttle more than half way."
She nodded and took her seat in the cart. "Thanks dear," he said and licked her muzzle quickly. She smiled and then turned her attention to the controls. She pulled down on a lever in front of her, the cart gave a quick little jerk, and released another puff of smoke. Then it was off.
They stood and watched her pull away from them. The cart moved slowly at first, then gained speed. Their eyes followed it, as they gauged its distance and waited for the right moment.
"You've done a great job, son" the older collie said, his tail now twitching as much as the smaller canine's.
"Thanks. And thanks for all of your help."
"Sure, you're welcome. Wait until she gets to that oak tree, then we're off."
"Okay, I bet I can beat you to it" the beagle answered, with a playful flick of his ear.
"You're on" he barked out his reply, and with that they were off. The
two dogs ran down the dirt road, their tails wagging and tongues hanging
out of their mouths as they chased after the cart. Caught up in their
sudden burst of speed, intent on the marvel of the new and unique target in
front of them, all that mattered then was the joy of the chase.
Copyright 2002, Will A. Sanborn - was1@shore.net