BERNIE

The days grew shorter as September arrived. The beach houses were being boarded and locked as summer inhabitants began their exodus back to their city homes.

Terry cleaned Gladys’ litter box and removed the sand from her paws and coat for the final time before they left the island.

Bernie was taking a last walk on the beach before his departure, when a familiar rabbit caught his eye and he took off in hot pursuit. The hare skirted the dunes and dashed into the safety of the woods.

Bernie soon sniffed it out and game of tag continued until he suddenly realized that he had lost all sense of time and direction. The right-angle turns of the rabbit had led Bernie into a strange forest and he was lost.

The Fallons spent hours searching for Bernie. They remained in their cottage another night, waiting for Bernie to return. Darkness of the second day approached and the family, heavy-hearted and burdened with the loss of Bernie, drove onto the island ferry for the trip back to the mainland.

Bernie tried one path after another, each leading him nowhere. Exhausted, he collapsed onto a clump of weeds and slept. He knew that they would find him.

On the next day, Bernie finally found his way back to the cottage. He circled the deserted house and looked everywhere. Standing on his hind legs and stretching his body to peer through a crack in the boarded window--he saw that the rooms were desolate and dark.

“They’re gone,” came a voice from behind, “They’re all gone.”

Bernie nervously sniffed the air.

“It’s no use--they all must be home by now.” Said Wolf.

Bernie ran frantically down the road barking, then he stopped and ran in the opposite direction--occasionally halting abruptly, looking around and finally--whimpering softly, walked slowly back to where Wolf stood watching.

Wolf nodded his head from side to side in sympathy for Bernie. “It’s no use.”

Bernie stood with his head drooped, then giving one last look, drew up his rear legs and settled his body upon the ground. He placed his head between his front paws and sadly stated at his cottage.

“You’ll be all right, son--you’re still young--you’ll make it.”

Bernie didn’t move, but as though thinking aloud, whispered, “It’s not right--it’s just not right! They knew I’d come back--I always did!”     

“They didn’t leave you--they just couldn’t wait any longer--they kept looking for you--but they had to leave.”

“Bernie perked up, “When?”

“Yesterday.”

Wolf ambled down to the dock, where he watched the distressed Bernie, who kept staring in disbelief. Then suddenly aware of Wolf’s presence, Bernie asked, “You get lost, too?”

“No, I just got old.”