# Master Frisky/Chapter 9

I was sitting in my study reading a new book that had just come in by the morning mail. It was a very interesting story, and I was deep in its pages, when, as I paused to cut a leaf, I noticed a slight sniffing and scratching at the door. "Is that you, Frisky?" I asked. For answer came a short, sharp bark, which meant in dog language, "Yes, it is your doggie; let me in." I opened the door, and in trotted Master Frisky, grinning, and wagging his tail as was his way. I motioned him to lie down on the rug, and resumed my book; but soon he came and stood on his hind legs, and putting his fore paws on my knees began lapping my hand vigorously. This he would always do when he wanted something very badly, but I was deep in the story and did not notice him. Presently he slipped his nose under the bottom of the book, and with a quick upward motion sent it out of my hands on the floor.
"Here, you little rascal," I said, "what do you want?" For answer he lapped my hands very affectionately for a moment, and then got down and went to the door. I got up and opened it, ​but it was apparent that he would not go out without me. So I put on my hat and followed, Master Frisky leading the way, out through the kitchen and shed to the carriage-house. He was all excitement now, and led me directly to one corner of the shed, and as plainly as a dog could, pointed out to me a most pitiful sight. There was my big white cat Dandy, crouched over a beautiful blue and white dove. The poor bird's eyes were large with fright and pain; and no wonder, for Dandy was slowly eating off one of its wings.
"You cruel thing," I cried, seizing the cat by the scruff of the neck and flinging him from me. The dove did not flutter when I took him up; he only crouched in my hand, but his little heart beat against my fingers with lightning rapidity.
I patted Master Frisky on the head, and told him that he was a good dog to tell me about the dove; and together we found a box for it, and made it a warm nest of hay. I bathed the mangled wing with warm water, and dressed it, and then left the poor dove and returned to my book.
Each morning and night, when I went to the barn to do the chores, I would wash and dress Bennie's hurt wing; and he was such a sensible, sociable little fellow, that I soon became very fond of him. After the first week the wings grew better very fast, and in three weeks' time they were all healed, but the poor dove ​could not fly with them. He was in great danger of being caught again by Dandy, and but for the watchfulness of Master Frisky and myself this would have happened.
When I fed the hens I always took out a large spoonful of the dough for Bennie; and he was very jealous of them, and wanted me to feed him first. If I chanced to forget him, and was passing by his box with the dough-dish, he would set up such a scolding that I would come back and feed him. He would peck at me, by way of punishment for nearly forgetting him; but when he got the warm dough, he would coo contentedly.
It was in the early fall that Frisky and I rescued poor Bennie from the jaws of Dandy; and all through the winter his wings grew, and when spring came he could fly upon the shed and sun himself. One morning, I was sitting on the steps watching the birds and the chickens, when I noticed Bennie upon the carriage-house; and as I watched he rose in the air and flew away over the tree-tops and out of sight. I expected to see him return in a few minutes, but it was more than a week before I saw him again; and when he did appear he was not alone, for standing by his side on the carriage-house was a modest little gray lady dove, and they were cooing away in the most loving manner.
I made them a dove-cote with a chimney and a real door; and they took possession, and were ​as proud and happy a dove family as I ever saw. We named the new comer Dodo, and for Bennie's sake, as well as her own, were very good to her.
Each morning they would fly upon the carriage-house to sun; and then Bennie would exhibit his plumage, and tell Dodo all of his thoughts. First he would spread his splendid tail to its greatest width, and march up and down, his breast flashing in the sunlight, and looking very proud. Then he would spread his wings and do the same thing; and finally he would spread both wings and tail, and strut up and down fairly ablaze with color. When Dodo had admired and praised his plumage enough, they would both fly away to their house, Dodo to set on the two white eggs that she had laid, and Bennie to keep watch and see that nothing disturbed her.
One day I noticed more commotion than usual in the cote, and so I climbed up to see what was the matter. I peeked in; and there were two little doves, queer looking things, without a sign of feathers, and with their mouths wide open. Dodo stood up just long enough to let me admire them, and then cuddled down to keep them warm. After this there was great activity in the house of the doves. Bennie was continually flying to and fro bringing worms and bugs for the squabs. No matter what the time of day, the slightest noise about the cote would send those two ​mouths wide open, and anything dropped within disappeared as quickly as a nickel in the slot.
One Sunday morning before I had gotten up I was awakened by a great noise in the yard. The doves were scolding, the Sir Cock-a-doodle was ca-da-cuting in his deep voice, and Master Frisky was barking. I ran to the window and looked out, and at first could see nothing strange; but finally I looked up to the dove-cote, and there was Dandy peeking in at the door (with hungry eyes), while Bennie was darting at him savagely. I shouted, and he ran down the pole and hid under the barn.
It was an eventful day when Dodo and Bennie brought the children from the house and taught them to fly. The young doves were very much afraid, and would not venture for a long time. Bennie coaxed and coaxed, and would fly across to the limb of a tree a few feet away to show how easy it was, until at last one of them spread his wings and flopped across. But he flew too low; and instead of lighting upon the limb, he flopped and fluttered to the ground. As he did so a white figure shot out from the shed. "Dandy," I cried, "let the dove alone," and he went back. As soon as the doves learned to fly they thought it great sport, and would go about from shed to post, but always returned to the dove-cote.
Even now as I write, they are flying about in great glee; and Dodo and Bennie, the proudest mother and father, are watching them.
​Now the older doves are talking together. Bennie is looking admiringly at Dodo and saying, "Love, love, love;" and she looks up and asks shyly, "Who, who, who?" and Bennie swells out his breast and replies, "You, you, you;" and thus runs the happy life of the dove family.