Grandpa and Grandma seemed to forget they were grown. They let Skipper come leaping at them, let him put his front feet on their shoulders. Who minded muddy paws? Who minded the icy-cold nose? Who minded the wet tongue-swipes? And the tracked floor? Not even Grandma! Only Wait-a-Minute hissed and spat at him.
Everyone was laughing and crying and talking all at once.
"Where you been, feller?"
"I thought you'd been caught in a mushrat trap."
"I thought you'd drowned, for sure."
"Why, ye're strong as a tiger."
"And yer coat's got a nice shine."
Paul came in then, a wide smile spread across his face. "He should be fat and shiny. He's been in the smokehouse eatin' his way through hams and salt pork."
Grandma wiped her laughter-tears away. "He allus was crazy on smoked meats," she said.
Maureen buried her nose in his ruff. "He's even got a smokehouse smell to him," she said. "Remember, Paul? Last thing you did was to go get a ham before we left on the helicopter."