What's Your Puppy's Name, Boy?

By Patrick M. Browning

Our story follows Ollie Bard from being an abandoned child through his youth and manhood. We begin when Louis Bard finds Ollie freezing in a stall holding a stolen puppy. As soon as it was an option, Louis adopted him. Olli's puppy named, Boy, grew big and strong, saved Ollie's life several times, and saved Louis when a mad bull was crushing him

• Language: English
• Publisher: Westwood Books Publishing
• Release date: Jun 17, 2022
• ISBN: 9781685366179

Patrick M. Browning

Patrick M Browning has spent his life Cowboying all over the west and deep into Old Mexico, managing some of the largest cattle and horse ranches in both countries. These many years in the saddle have given him the advantage of a perspective and knowledge of his subject matter, few writers of our generation have the benefit of drawing from. His works on Contemporary Cowboy life have a true to life feeling and flavor that only comes with actual experience. PMB, 'Lives the life he writes, and Writes the life he lives!"

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Copyright © 2022 by Patrick M. Browning.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

Westwood Books Publishing LLC

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Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

CHAPTER 1

The big rough cattleman saw the small boy huddled in a corner of an outside bull stall at the Denver Stock Show. The little fellow didn’t have a coat, and it was freezing in Denver, as it most always is in the third week of January.

The young boy was holding a puppy in his arms and had covered the pup with straw from the stall floor. He had scooped a considerable amount of the straw over his own legs against the cold as well.

What’s your puppy’s name, boy? the friendly cattleman asked the near-frozen kid.

Yep! the child replied.

His name is Yep? the cattleman questioned.

No, silly! His name is Boy! Like you said, the cold, hungry child said.

That is a good name! What is your name, young man? the cattleman asked.

The child said, Ollie.

Just like in the Charles Dickens story! the cattleman said.

I don’t know that fellow, mister, Ollie said.

Well, we need to remedy that! I believe you would enjoy hearing it. Would you like to come with me and get a little something to eat and warm up a little, Ollie? this fine gentleman asked. He then said, I need to put a bull in this stall, and I wouldn’t want Boy to get stepped on.

Okay, mister. Boy is pretty cold and hungry. He hasn’t had anything to eat since the day before yesterday, Ollie said.

How about you, Ollie? When did you eat last? the man asked.

The day before that, the little fellow said.

How come Boy got to eat and you didn’t? the cattleman asked.

He needed to eat something worse than I did, Ollie said. I found part of a sandwich over there by the trash can, and there wasn’t enough for both of us. Boy is just a puppy, and he needed it more than I did, Ollie said.

I’m Louis Bard, young man, and I am very happy to meet a fine young fellow who takes care of his animals before he does himself. I was just about to go get something to eat. You and Boy come with me, and you can tell me what you are doing in my bull stall, Louis offered.

Okay, I am sorry. I didn’t know it was your stall, and Boy was real cold, Ollie said.

That is fine, Ollie. I am just glad I saw you before I put the bull back in here, Louis said.

We were in here before your man took him out, but that fellow didn’t see us. Your bull was real nice, mister. Boy and me just slipped in under the door chains, and the bull smelled us a little, but we didn’t scare him any, I promise, Ollie said.

I appreciate that, Ollie. These bulls can be big sissies. Come on now and let’s go. I am sure enough hungry, Louis said.

I won’t go nowhere they won’t let Boy in, Ollie said adamantly.

I wouldn’t consider it either! Any place that won’t let a fine animal like Boy in, I don’t want anything to do with, Louis said, smiling at Ollie and Boy.

They started to walk out of the show bull barn, and Mr. Bard took off his coat and put it on Ollie. Would you mind carrying this heavy old coat for me, Ollie? I have been looking for someone to pack it around for me all morning, Mr. Bard said.

Okay. Boy is still pretty cold. Is it okay if I wrap it around him too? Ollie asked.

Of course, Ollie. How long have you had Boy? Louis asked.

Just a few days. The man who had him said I stole him, but he came to me, mister. I swear he did, Ollie explained.

He came to you? Louis asked.

Yep! He was playing in the back of a fellow’s truck, and when I called him, he came to me, so I picked him up. That man saw me holding Boy and yelled at me and ran toward me, and I ran away from him. I was carrying Boy and just never had a chance to put him back. We hid out in a stall with a horse, and a little while later, I took Boy back, but the truck was gone. The next morning, I went back to where the truck had been parked, and it was still gone. I went back to that spot several times every day, but that fellow never came back. So me and Boy partnered up, and we been together ever since, Ollie said.

How long ago was that, Ollie? Louis asked.

This morning will be six days, Ollie said.

Where have your folks been all this time? Mr. Bard asked.

Well, sir, that is quite a story! Ollie said, very grown-up like, and then continued, Momma and Daddy were fighting again, and Momma left. Then Daddy and I drove around some looking for her, and Daddy was drinking again. Pretty soon, Daddy pulled in here to the stock show and told me to get out and wait here, that he would come back for me. I was waiting for him when I found Boy, and I have been looking for Daddy and the fellow that had the puppies ever since, Ollie said.

How long were you alone before you found Boy? Louis asked.

Let’s see, it was the day before the stock show started. So is that six or seven days? Ollie said, not absolutely sure just how long he had been there.

My goodness! What have you been eating? Louis asked, concerned.

The first day, nothing, but after the stock show opened, it was easy to find food by the trash cans. Except the last two days, there have been men dumping the trash as soon as there is anything in the cans, and Boy and I have had to tighten our belts a little, Ollie said.

Just then they arrived at a big open area inside the cattle building that had several different places serving food, and Louis asked, What do you think Boy would like?

One of those hamburger sandwiches would be real nice, but he don’t like the lettuce or tomato much. He will eat them, but he eats them last. He likes the meat and bun just fine, Ollie explained.

How about you, Ollie? What would you like to eat? Louis asked.

I could just share Boy’s hamburger, mister, Ollie said.

Mr. Bard walked up to the window and ordered three hamburgers, one with just bun and beef, and a glass of water, no ice, and two big glasses of milk. Ollie thought he had died and gone to heaven, and so did Boy!

Do you like hamburgers, Ollie? Louis Bard asked.

Yes, sir, my uncles usually get me one when they are visiting with Momma, Ollie said, while he ate.

You have uncles? Louis asked, thinking he might have some family that was worried about the boy.

Oh, yes, sir! I’ll bet there have been at least twenty of them, and Momma said she would introduce me to even more when she met them. Then she ran off, so I guess I will never get to meet the rest of them now, Ollie said sadly.

It just that second came to Louis who Ollie’s uncles really were! They were Johns; his mother was not only a drug addict, but a prostitute as well.

Damn! This little fellow hasn’t had a chance, Louis Bard said to himself.

Ollie, what is your father’s name? Louis asked.

Twist, sir. Walter Twist, Ollie said.

You are kidding me? Your name is Oliver Twist? Louis said.

Why would I kid you about my name, mister? Ollie asked seriously.

Of course, you wouldn’t, my new young friend. It is just that is the name of the fellow in the Charles Dickens story I mentioned earlier, is all, Mr. Bard said. My wife, Trace, is at the room we rented for the duration of the stock show, and I bet she would really like to meet you and Boy! Let’s go see her, and we will try to find your daddy, okay? Mr. Bard said.

That would be wonderful. Is she nice? Ollie asked.

Yes, she is the nicest lady I have ever known, Louis said and then added, She is young and real pretty too!

Good. Let’s go talk to her and see if we can find my daddy. I will bet he is sad that he doesn’t remember where he left me, Ollie said, and Mr. Bard almost broke down.

When they walked into the hotel room, Louis said, Trace, this little boy was abandoned and chased and survived freezing weather for well over a week all alone and took care of his dog while he was doing it all! He is concerned that his daddy is scared, sad, and worried about him!

We can’t have that! What do they call you, little fellow? she asked kindly.

By my name, he responded, a bit confused.

Of course, they do, silly me! What is your name? Trace asked.

Ollie, he replied.

Ollie what? she quizzed.

I’m sorry. It’s Ollie, ma’am, he said remembering the manners his mother had taught him.

Mrs. Bard just smiled lovingly at this young waif and said, I am Trace Bard, and I am happy to meet you, Ollie, she said, thinking that might get a last name out of him.

His last name is Twist. His mom ran off, and his dad left him at the stock show over a week ago, and he kind of stole the puppy! The dog’s name is Boy! Louis explained.

Well, Ollie Twist, how old are you? she asked.

I was six my last birthday, but that was a little while ago. I am not sure just what day it is. My mom kept changing it, Ollie said.

Okay, young man, why don’t you take a bath and a nap? You can put on one of these hotel robes to sleep in. I will send Father back over to the stock show, and he can go to the merchandising barn and get you some new clothes, okay? Trace suggested.

Okay, Ollie said gratefully, and then added, Sir, could you get Boy a little collar, please?

Of course, Ollie, was all Louis said.

Trace started to draw a bath for Ollie, and he said, Ma’am, I have been doing that myself for a long time now. Momma took medicine pills a lot, and she could never do too much, so I sorta took care of the little things myself.

My goodness, what a big boy! Okay, there is soap and shampoo there on the tub. You scrub up good, and Boy can stay in here with you, so you can watch him, she said and let the puppy lay down on the rug by the tub and watch his friend bathe. Just lay your dirty clothes right inside the door, and I will get the sizes so Louis can buy the right size replacements.

Ollie did as she asked, and she reached in and took out the clothes and asked him, Did you leave your coat in Mr. Bard’s car?

Didn’t have one, Ollie said.

But it is freezing outside. How did you stay warm? she asked in disbelief.

I didn’t! he responded.

Trace wrote down all the sizes and made recommendations as to what to get for Ollie, and Louis asked, Where can I get him some underthings? They will be selling pants and shirts, jackets, belts, and boots, and they might even have boot socks, but they won’t have underwear or T-shirts.

Get him a couple of union suits, then! I saw them in the Carhartt sales booth! That would be a good place to buy him a coat and maybe even his shirts. There is a Wrangler booth just a little way down the aisle and an Olathe Boot booth around the corner. These sizes are all just a little larger than what he had on, because everything he was wearing was too small! His toes were poking into the end of these old tennis shoes and had to be hurting his feet, she said, very motherly.

All right, Trace, how big do you suppose his head is? Louis asked.

Sweetheart, that is a wonderful thought, but he is just a little fellow. I doubt you can find him a good-quality cowboy hat his size. Just get him a nice baseball cap for now, Trace suggested wisely.

All right then, I will be back as soon as I can. I have to make sure Ramon feeds the bulls and has everything ready for tomorrow. We show the two young bulls a 10:00 a.m.! Louis said, keeping in mind what they were actually there for. I will call the police and see if they can find this Walter Twist! Louis said angrily.

They will take Ollie away and put him in a state home, Louis. That is not right. Can you do something to keep that from happening? Trace asked protectively.

I will see if we can get custody of Oliver until they find his father, babe. That is about all we can do, I believe, Louis told his worried wife. The little fellow got to you, didn’t he?

Yes, he has! Do you remember when Bobby was almost that age before he di— Trace started to ask her husband, but he stopped her.

I thought we weren’t going to talk about that anymore, sweetheart? Louis asked.

Maybe it has been long enough! Trace said longingly.

Louis kissed her and said, I’ll be back as soon as I make sure the bulls are okay and I get our little man there something to wear. I don’t know how he kept from freezing to death! When they find his father, I will be going to jail for a while, babe, because I am going to beat the hell out of him!

Attaboy! Trace said and kissed Louis proudly. I’ll take care of things while you are in jail, sweetheart! If you get the chance, you whip him good! Ollie could have died out there in that freezing cold!

You know I will, babe. I never do anything halfway! Louis said. First, they have to find the sorry bastard!

Papa! Watch your language! There is a little boy in the next room, Trace said, again being very motherly.

Yes, a little boy whose mother was apparently a drug-addicted whore and a chickenshit drunk for a father who abandoned him! I believe he has heard swear words before! Louis said.

Maybe, but he hasn’t heard them from us, and he is not going to! Do you understand? she scolded.

Yes, Mother! I understand. You better go check on your boy! I hear a lot of splashing around in there! he teased her.

Louis headed out, and Trace knocked on the door and asked, Are you all right, Ollie?

Yes, ma’am. We are just fine. Getting washed up real good! he said, giggling.

Trace peeked in, and there in the tub was both Ollie and Boy covered in bubbles! Ollie was scrubbing Boy, and the puppy was loving the warm soapy water as much as Ollie was. He too had gotten pretty filthy sleeping in the bull stall.

When you two nuts get finished, turn the shower on and rinse off the soap before you dry yourselves! she said, smiling.

Yes, ma’am, Ollie said, still giggling. He may have been abandoned by his mother and left to fend for himself or die by his father, but he was still a six-year-old boy with a puppy in a tub full of bubbles! His world was perfect at the moment.

Trace went out and sat on the edge of the bed and smiled, then wept. She smiled at how universally happy and silly a boy with his puppy can be, and she wept for her own little boy, gone three years now, who she would never see again. Louis Bard was just about to turn forty and his wife, Trace, was younger and had just turned twenty-nine. They had lost their own five-year-old son, Bobby, who had cystic fibrosis, and he finally succumbed to it after a five-year battle. His death almost killed Trace as well.

About then here came Ollie wearing a huge hotel robe that even though was tied closed, was so long it was dragging behind him like a wedding dress train. On the trailing part of the robe, rode Boy, being dragged along by Ollie. Both were as happy as a boy and his puppy could be.

Louis will be back in a little while. Would you like some hot chocolate and watch television until he comes back? What are your favorite shows? she asked.

I would really like some chocolate, ma’am, but I don’t have any favorite TV shows. We never had one, he said.

You never had a favorite TV show? she asked.

No, ma’am, we never had a TV, Ollie said.

Oh, I see. Well, you haven’t missed much! There is hardly anything ever worth watching anyway, she said, not knowing what else to say.

This was 1958, and Gunsmoke, Maverick, The Legend of Wyatt Earp, The Rifleman, and Wagon Train were the most popular TV shows on the air. "There are a few Western shows on in the evening, Ollie, that you might like. There is a cartoon on now that is pretty funny, Huckleberry Hound! Would you like to see it?" she asked.

If you want to, he said indifferently.

Trace turned on the TV, and Ollie and Boy were amazed! They sat and watched the color cartoon and were both fascinated. Even most of the middle-class people who had televisions didn’t have color sets yet and did not until around 1964, and that was still six years in the future. This nice hotel had them in all the luxury rooms, and this was one of those rooms.

It wasn’t long before Louis came back in and said, Turn that damn thing off, Mother. Those things will be the ruination of this country! Turn on the radio or read him a book but turn off that television! All this technology will fog up everyone’s brains eventually, and people won’t be able to think for themselves anymore, Louis said.

I think you are over reacting, babe, Trace said. How are the bulls?

I believe they are the best we ever raised. I wish the Angus Association would do a little more to promote the breed! (He got his wish, and now the American Angus Association has the finest promotional program ever developed!) Here, Ollie, I got Boy a new leather collar. I had his name stamped on it too! Louis said proudly.

That is wonderful, dear. Were you able to find a few things for Ollie? Trace asked, teasing.

Yes, ma’am! What do you think is in all these bags? he asked indignantly.

He handed her all the things he had bought for Ollie and grinned at how extravagant he had gotten. First, she dug out one of the three union suits and told Ollie to please go into the bathroom and put them on.

He put the collar on Boy first and said, Thank you, sir. I will pay you back as soon as I get a job, Ollie said confidently.

He went into the bathroom and came out with his new red union suit on and was smiling. These are wonderful! Thank you, sir, Ollie said.

There is a bit more here for you, Ollie! Louis said.

More? Ollie asked, sounding surprised and thrilled.

Yes. I found some things I thought you would like, Louis said, trying to hide just how proud he was.

Trace got out a pair of boot socks from a package of six and smiled at her husband, who was grinning like a kid at Christmas. Then she got out one of the three pairs of Wrangler jeans, and Ollie put them on and started crying.

What’s wrong Ollie? Trace asked.

I am just so happy! I never had a pair of pants that still had the tags on them. Mine had always been someone else’s before I got them, he said.

Trace’s eyes filled with tears, and Louis had to turn away for a moment so no one could see that his eyes had too.

Next, she got out one of the three heavy Carhartt shirts Louis had purchased. Ollie put it on and was smiling so widely that he started to giggle. Then Louis said, Here, try these on! And handed him a pair of genuine Olathe boots! They were black with red tops, just like Louis’s!

Ollie beamed! They were just a little large, and Trace had him put on a second pair of the thick boot socks, and they fit just right then.

Perfect! she said. You have a little room to grow into them so they will last you a long time!

He stood there and was smiling, happier than he remembered ever being. Then Louis said, Something is missing! He reached into one of the sacks and pulled out a black belt to match Ollie’s new boots. It had a ranger-style buckle, tip, and keeper that cost more than all the other items together did. Ollie kept that buckle set for many years and treasured them, thinking of this moment through the years as he moved them from belt to belt as he grew into a man.

You did great, Louis. I am very proud of you! Trace told her husband.

There are just a couple more things, Ollie! Here is a heavy Carhartt coat, cap, and gloves, and I thought you might like this Case XX pocketknife. A cattleman needs a good knife! Louis said as he handed the young fellow the knife.

You realize he is just six years old, don’t you? Why didn’t you buy him a gun? Trace scolded.

Couldn’t find one! was Louis’s answer, and he smiled at her when he said it!

She just shook her head at this crazy man that she had loved for ten years! Ollie, would you like me to wash your new clothes before you wear them? Trace asked.

I am already wearing them, ma’am, he answered, a bit confused.

You are absolutely right, Ollie. I will take the rest of your new things to the hotel guest laundry and wash them for you, okay? she asked. She then asked him if he wanted to keep his old clothes and wash them as well.

They were pretty much just rags, but he said, Maybe we could wash them and give them to that store where Mom bought them, and some other little boy can get some use out of them?

Okay, Ollie! That is what we will do, she said. Again she had a tear in her eye.

Louis made several phone calls from the room, and the Denver police said they would send someone right over. Soon a police sergeant and a lady from the Child Proactive Agency came to the hotel and up to the Bards’ room. They came in, sat down, and asked Ollie some questions. Then the CPA lady talked to both Mr. and Mrs. Bard. Louis told her the story of finding Ollie in the stall with no coat and how it was freezing, and he would like to press charges of child abuse if and when they find this Walter Twist!

Ma’am, we would like to keep Oliver until such time that his parents are located. We will sign whatever documents you need to have, in order to make this happen, Louis said.

This is highly unusual, but seeing that he is in caring, loving hands, and our facilities are overcrowded right now, we can give you temporary custody of Ollie until his parents are located. If they cannot be located, he will be eligible for adoption one year from today, the CPA lady said.

She had them fill out numerous papers and sign a bond.

Until the parents are located and a court determines them fit to care for Oliver, he is legally yours. If they are not located or are found and determined unfit, you are first option for adoption, if at that time you chose to make this permanent, she said. This was all very formal and institutionalized, but she was friendly enough, in spite of all the rules she had to follow.

Can they have custody over Boy too, ma’am? Ollie asked the CPA lady.

Why, certainly, Oliver. He is a beautiful puppy, she said.

Good. I was worried someone might take him away from me, Ollie said happily.

No, I can see that you two love each other and should be together! the lady said, not even suspecting that Boy was in all actuality a stolen dog!

Well, Ollie, we have work to do! Get your coat, cap, and gloves on and let’s go to check on the bulls, Louis said.

Ma’am, can I leave Boy here with you, please! If I see the fellow I got him from, I don’t want him to try to take him away from me. That nice lady that gave me to you said I could keep him, but I don’t want to take any chances, Ollie asked.

I will be happy to keep him here, dear. He and I can watch TV and ‘fog up our brains’ watching cartoons! she teased Louis.

He really liked that blue dog, ma’am! Ollie said.

Yes, he did! That is Huckleberry Hound! I like him too! Trace said and smiled at Ollie. He was smiling back.

Louis Bard and young Ollie Twist went to the 1958 Denver Fat Stock Show and Rodeo grounds, and after they checked on their bulls, they walked through all the exhibition buildings looking at everything! They looked at all the different cattle breeds and the newest ranch equipment and everything a rancher could possibly want whether he really needed it or not.

About halfway through the second exhibition building, six-year-old Ollie Twist reached up and held big, tough forty-year-old Louis Bard’s hand as they were walking along. Louis held it tenderly. He too was remembering his little Bobby. Louis was as happy that day holding Ollie’s little hand and showing him all the things that make up the working cattleman’s world as he ever had been before.

The Denver Stock Show is the Super Bowl, the World Series, the Stanley Cup, and the NBA Finials of the cattle industry. The trade show is the largest one of the year, and you can purchase or order anything made for the livestock industry there. It is not only the first livestock show of the year, in 1958 it was the biggest and best. Ollie was stung with the livestock bug right then and there at the stock show. He knew that regardless of what surprises life threw at him, he was going to be a stockman like Louis Bard!

The two young Bard bulls both placed very well at the 1958 Denver Stock Show and Rodeo. The Bards were thrilled. Their ranch received some great publicity for their breeding program, and most importantly, they had found Ollie. Louis called the courts and talked with the CPA lady and asked if it was okay to take Ollie home with them to Castle Rock the end of next week, when the show was over.

Certainly, Mr. Bard. He has already been abandoned twice, once by each of his birth parents. We don’t want him to go through that again. If you leave the state with him while this is still just a temporary custody agreement, the rules say you should call me, but if it is just a quick trip delivering or picking up cattle, you don’t need to call. But you go ahead and call anytime you want to, and I will always be happy to hear how he is doing.

Ollie went back to the Bard ranch outside of Castle Rock, Colorado, and time passed, as it always does and will continue to do. As the end of the year since Ollie had been abandoned approached, he began to get nervous that either one of his parents might come and take him away from the Bards. He made up his mind that he was not going to leave willingly, and as things turned out, he didn’t have to leave at all. No one ever found his mother, and when they found his father, he didn’t want anything to do with a child and signed his parental rights over to the courts, and they, in turn, reassigned them over to the Bards. Now even if the mother ever showed up, she would have a custody battle on her hands.

When the end of the year was finally here, the Bards adopted Ollie, and he took their last name, but they let him keep Twist as his middle name. He was seven years old now and was already riding well and trying to make a hand. He was fearless on a horse and would get on anything that Louis would let him ride.

The CPA lady had come out to the ranch for a standard welfare check and told Louis and Trace that when Ollie’s birth father had signed away is rights, he’d told her that Oliver’s birthday was November the 25, 1952. Trace almost fainted. The CPA woman asked what was wrong, and Louis said, Three years ago, we lost our son to cystic fibrosis. His birthday was also November 25, but in 1949!

Oh my! the CPA lady said.

The next year, when they went to the Denver Stock Show to show their bulls in January, he went as a Twist, and by the end of the show, he left as a Bard. He had just turned seven years old a little over a month before and was working hard to become a cattleman. He listened more than he talked and watched every move the best cattlemen in the country made when working with their cattle. Boy was a year old now and although not quite full grown yet, was already a sixty-pound bulldog! He was a beautiful chestnut with a white chest and blaze on his face and a smile a mile wide. He was the perfect specimen of the American pit bull terrier. He had natural rosebud ears and a pump handle tail.

The two of them were inseparable. Boy lived outside, where an animal belongs, and except for bedtime, they were together. Boy was good around people, livestock, and even poultry. He was also surprisingly well behaved around other dogs until one showed any aggression. Then the switch turned on, and things got a bit violent, for a few moments anyway, then they went dead silent, and dead is the operative word here.

He was fine around the ranch because the only other dog there was Mrs. Bard’s little corgi, and Boy loved it. The corgi was a neutered male named Sarge and was not threatening in any way. The two ate, played, and slept together. It wasn’t a bit unusual to see Sarge lying under Boy on the porch, resting comfortably between his front legs, and the big bulldog licking his little corgi buddy’s head.

This friendship was so absolute that no one would dare ever even scold Sarge and would certainly never try to swat him, or they had to deal with Boy. He was not only very protective of Sarge but Ollie, Louis, and Trace, as well. He