Ol' Shep: Book 3: Shep and the Ranger Women of the Rio Grade

“He had been there alone for fifteen days. His side of bacon was eaten, and the sack of corn getting very low. The Rangers were as much delighted as if it had been a human being they had rescued. He had worn the top of the wall of the old stage stand perfectly smooth, standing off the sneaking coyotes … Shep had held the fort….” —George Wythe Baylor, Captain (Ret.), Company C, Frontier Battalion, El Paso Herald, February 3, 1900Faithful Shep is a fictional account of a loyal dog rescued by nine Texas Rangers, based on a fascinating true story from the history of America's west.Author's NoteFaithful Shep was written as a tribute arising from admiration of that great daring that is bred in bravery. I dedicate this book to all who ennoble with loving care the warm-hearted animals who revere them in return. May this story of a stranded, starving dog and the ordinary men who trekked into hostile country to save him, serve as a source of inspiration and resolve.I express sincere appreciation and deep indebtedness to the host of Texas university researchers, reference librarians, and historical archivists whom I continually pestered for details of setting and geography, personal letters from the period, old newspaper clippings, documents on the Texas Rangers, and other minutia that I cannot even recall at the moment. These long-suffering aides to my quest are too numerous to name, but I am thankful they know who they are and that they helped a hero dog live again, briefly, in these pages.ExcerptOutside, the near freezing midnight mountain air penetrated clothing, regardless of thickness. Wiswall, in his thin, summer business suit, refused to acknowledge his aching lungs, or, how difficult it was to breathe, and how painful his nose and cheeks felt. Annie, unsuitably dressed as well, with an ordinary woolen jacket, cotton turtleneck, a thin silk shawl, more ornamental than protective, and no winter leggings, was more concerned about Josie’s clothing which seemed inadequate for such a long jaunt. After watching his future wife carefully swathe Josie in her own assigned blanket, then double wrap the little girl in her only shawl, Wiswall offered a tease with a smile carefully not to offend,“The girl’s packed so heavy, Annie, that she can’t stand up or sit down, let alone walk. God help us, if she topples over.”“Too bad we have no time to purchase adequate clothing for all three of you,” Emery added, muffling his surging booming laughter demanding release.As Dutch John catered to the horses, an armed coach conductor began boarding the passengers. Standing before the open Concord carriage door, the gaunt, fast-talking, stern-faced, somber-eyed man weighed each suitcase for its 25lbs limit by simply holding it at arm’s length. After punching the ticket of each traveler, the official allowed the passenger to step aboard. Albion whispered to Wiswall, the last to board, as Annie and the girl, next to last, began stepping climbing the coach steps, “The leather holster that’s attached to the conductor’s belt holds an ‘Allen’. It’s so heavy, his Levi pants are hanging down to his knees. If that isn’t a sight!”“He certainly doesn’t look too affable,” countered Wiswall, respectfully. “That’s exactly the type of shotgun rider you want -- heavily armed, and a no-nonsense type of man.”