Dogs

Dogs are a persistent presence around the Burbank ranch: they bark from beneath buildings, watch the people at work, and accompany the seasonal movement of the hay crew. They are seldom central to the ranch’s human affairs, yet their sounds and brief encounters punctuate domestic life. For Peter Gordon, one half-breed collie becomes a first companion; near the end, a running dog on the hillside becomes an image bound to Phil Burbank’s fate. Together, these appearances make dogs part of the novel’s landscape and a recurring measure of who is alone, who is watched, and what remains unseen.

The Ranch’s Dogs

The dogs belong to the everyday acoustic life of the ranch. From inside the house, Peter hears the bunkhouse door, a hired man cursing, cattle bawling, and dogs barking, among the other sounds that carry across the grounds. Their calls are interwoven with the work and machinery of the place rather than separated from it: the ranch is not silent between human scenes, and the dogs help make its working environment audible.

Their barking can also interrupt private moments. One night, a dog begins barking outside while George Burbank and Rose are awake in bed. A second dog joins in; a man from the bunkhouse calls for them to be quiet, and the dogs fall silent. Rose imagines them retreating beneath the house. The brief episode shows how closely the household and the workers’ quarters are joined by sound: a disturbance outside reaches the bedroom, while the human response comes from the bunkhouse.

The animals also watch ranch work without understanding or sharing its human purpose. After two young cowboys have handled calves in the corral, the dogs lie outside with their noses between their paws, resting but still attentive. Their interest has passed. This small shift—from watching to indifference—gives the scene a practical, unceremonious perspective: the dogs are present at the ranch’s routines, but they do not turn those routines into a spectacle.

Work, Movement, and Routine

Dogs appear alongside the organization of seasonal labor. Before the hay hands move out to the fields with machinery, horses, tents, and the cookshack, Phil Burbank walks with them toward the barn, where the dogs bristle and bark. He laughs at their noise and throws a stone in their direction; they retreat beneath the barn, their barking muffled but continuing. The men then unroll their beds in the hay, and the outfit proceeds to the fields. The dogs’ brief challenge and retreat are part of the repeated transition from arrival at the ranch to work in the hay fields.

This recurrence gives the dogs a place in the ranch’s annual rhythm without suggesting that they direct it. Phil values the continuity of another year and leads the crew toward the barn; the dogs react, withdraw, and remain in the background as the human work begins. Their behavior contrasts with the scale of the operation Phil oversees. The machinery, crews, and camps are organized for the haying season, while the dogs respond to familiar people and sounds in the immediate space around the barn.

Dogs also register small changes in attention. During one episode at the ranch, they watch as Peter helps move animal remains for reburial. The narration casts them as the chief mourners, a description that makes their watching seem like a form of attendance rather than useful labor. Elsewhere they lie resting but alert, or bark and retreat. These different responses keep them from serving only as background noise: the novel repeatedly places them near work, death, and human gatherings, while leaving their own understanding unspoken.

Peter and the Collie

During Phil’s funeral, Peter spends a day at the ranch waiting. A half-breed collie follows him from the barn and plays by snapping at its reflection in a basement window set at ground level. The dog’s game is its own activity, not something Peter initiates or controls; the scene first brings the two together through observation and proximity.

The collie becomes the first of the dogs to adore Peter, and the first friend he finds at the ranch. When Peter goes inside, it whines for him beyond the front door. The detail makes their connection specific: the dog follows him, plays nearby, and then remains outside when he leaves its reach. At a time when Peter is waiting apart from the funeral, this attention offers a form of companionship that does not depend on conversation or social acceptance.

The contrast with the dogs that bark at the hay crew or retreat under the barn is notable. This collie does not merely register Peter as another passing presence; it continues to seek his company. The narration does not give the dog a name or explain its attachment, but it establishes the relationship through repeated acts of following and waiting. Peter’s first friendship at the ranch is thus with an animal whose affection is conveyed directly through its behavior.

The Hound on the Hill

The dog image acquires a more ominous, less domestic form in Phil’s vision of a running hound on the hill above the ranch house. Set among rocks and tangled sagebrush, the figure appears to pursue something across the northern hills. Phil is certain of the pursuit’s outcome: the dog will catch its prey. The vision is not shared by the people around him; the narration says that only one other person has seen it, and specifically excludes George from that knowledge.

At the book’s close, Peter considers whether he might add a passage from the Book of Common Prayer to his scrapbook, which had previously held rose leaves that had lost their scent. He thinks of his mother as delivered through sacrifices made by his father and by himself, using knowledge acquired from his father’s medical books. The final statement, “The dog was dead,” follows this reflection. Read beside the hound on the hill and Phil’s death, the closing phrase gives the recurring animal image a pointed connection to the novel’s conclusion. It does not identify the earlier vision as a literal dog in the ranch’s daily life; instead, the contrast between the companionable collie and the pursuing hound leaves the dog motif suspended between ordinary animal presence and the story’s account of danger, pursuit, and loss.