Drover's Secret Life. John R. Erickson

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      Publication Information

      MAVERICK BOOKS

      Published by Maverick Books, Inc.

      P.O. Box 549, Perryton, TX 79070

      Phone: 806.435.7611

      www.hankthecowdog.com

      First published in the United States of America by Viking Children’s Books and Puffin Books, members of Penguin Putnam Books for Young Readers, 2009.

      Currently published by Maverick Books, Inc., 2012

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      Copyright © John R. Erickson, 2009

      All rights reserved

      Maverick Books, Inc. Paperback ISBN: 978-1-59188-153-7

      Hank the Cowdog® is a registered trademark of John R. Erickson.

      Printed in the United States of America

      Except in the United States of America, this book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

      Dedication

      To Janee McCartor, who takes care of Hank and Drover at Maverick Books.

      Contents

      Introduction by the Head of Ranch Security

      Chapter One This Is the First Chapter

      Chapter Two A Sad and Lonely Childhood

      Chapter Three Alone in a Cold World

      Chapter Four The Next Chapter

      Chapter Five I Never Got to Be Joe

      Chapter Six An Ugly Scene with Mom

      Chapter Crutch This Is Pretty Neat

      Chapter Train Tracks The Exciting Part

      Chapter Nine The Bat

      Chapter Ten Handsome Prince School

      Chapter Eleven Looking for a Job

      Chapter Twelve Mom Loses Her Yard

      Chapter Thirteen Going to College

      Chapter Fourteen The Park

      Chapter Fifteen I Never Knew Bats Could Sing

      Chapter Sixteen A Hero Finds a Home

      Introduction

      It’s me again, Hank the Cowdog. Have you ever wondered what Drover does when he runs to the machine shed and hides? I’ve wondered about that, many times. I mean, the little mutt spends a lot of time in there. What does he do?

      I asked him about it one time, and he said, “I count goats.”

      “Goats? Why do you count goats? We don’t even have goats on this ranch.”

      “Well, if I counted sheep, I might fall asleep. When you sleep, everything’s dark and I’m scared of the dark.”

      Does that make sense to you? It made no sense to me, but over the years I’ve learned . . . how can I say this? I’ve learned not to expect much from Drover’s answers. All we can say is that he spends a lot of time in the machine shed and sometimes he counts goats that don’t exist.

      But guess what. That isn’t all he does in there. I recently discovered that the little goof has been writing his life’s story. You think I’m kidding? I’m not kidding. He scratched it out in the dust on the machine-shed floor. I found it just the other day, half an acre of chicken scratch in the dirt.

      Naturally, my first thought was that it should be erased at once. I mean, it was written by the same guy who hides under his gunnysack bed and snaps at snowflakes. Is the world ready to face an entire book about his life? No, and without a moment’s hesitation, I . . .

      You know, I couldn’t bring myself to erase it. In fact, I started reading and . . . well, it was weird but also pretty funny. I laughed until my ribs hurt. It was so very . . . Drover.

      I’m not saying that the world is ready for it or that you should read it, but if you want to give it a peek, here it is. If it causes you to count goats or snap at snowflakes, don’t blame me.

      —Hank

      Chapter One: This Is the First Chapter

      Well, let’s see here. How should I start this? I’ve never done this before and I’m kind of nervous. What if I mess up? Everybody might laugh and I’d hate that.

      Most dogs go through their whole life without writing a book, and so have I up to now, but all at once I feel an urge to write an exciting story about the life of Drover C. Dog.

      That’s me. If I’m going to be an author, I need a name that sounds like something an author might use. Plain old “Drover” doesn’t sound very exciting, does it? I don’t think so. “Drover C. Dog” sounds more dramatic. It’s the kind of name that needs trumpets or something.

      I made it up myself. I used “Dog” as my last name because . . . well, I’m a dog and it fits. The middle initial “C” just came out of thin air.

      That’s a funny way of putting it, “thin air.” Is there some other kind of air? I don’t know, it all seems pretty thin to me, otherwise we’d choke when we tried to breathe.

      You can choke on water, I know that. I saw a bat almost drown one time. It was a hot day and he needed a drink, but he fell in a goldfish pond because he was half-blind and he couldn’t swim. I had to drag him out. His name was Boris O’Bat and he’ll come up later in the story, if I get that far. I’m not sure I will. If I don’t . . СКАЧАТЬ