All Roads Lead Home Page #4

Hock likes his dogs

to stay on task.

Shoo! Go on!

Shoo!

Dumb dog.

What's the matter with you?

Whoa!

Never you walk

behind a horse

without you letting him

know you're there.

Now you show him

that respect.

Maybe he won't kick your head

clear off your shoulders.

Afraid of lions?

Lions?

Had a vet here once

swore he'd rather get chewed on

by a lion than kicked by a horse.

A lion make you bleed.

Maybe you can fix that.

But one kick from a horse

and you're crossing Jordan

on a jet-ski.

It's Sunday.

Mm, man, this is good.

Get up here.

Is there an earthly reason

for this absurdity?

I wanted to know how it felt.

How what felt?

How it felt to be...

how it felt to be trapped,

trapped and alone

and stuck in circles.

Uh-huh.

Is that how you think

about my horses?

No.

That's how I see me.

That's expensive equipment.

Don't toy with it.

Hey, bud.

Yeah.

- Tobias.

- Thanks, boss.

Yeah. Satch.

Thank you, Hock.

- Doc.

- Thank you, sir.

Belle.

Thank you, Grandpa.

I think you've earned that.

Mom loved animals,

didn't she?

No, she did not.

Animals ain't

for loving, honey.

Animals are for eating

and wearing,

for bill paying

and empire building.

Your mother understood animals.

She appreciated animals.

She respected animals.

She did not love animals.

Look at her face.

She loved them.

Put that back, honey.

I'm not wearing my glasses. I can't...

- Grandpa.

- What?

Do animals have souls?

- What in the world?

- Do they?

I'll tell you

what animals have.

Animals have increasing

production costs

and they've got infuriatingly

fluctuating market value.

As to whether or not

they got souls,

I'll leave that to our good

and capricious creator

to determine.

Aren't you up past

your bedtime?

I know they have souls.

And how would

you know that?

Well, can you imagine heaven

without them?

Your mother liked animals fine.

You're not the big old

ugly bear you think you are.

- Yeah?

- No.

Don't spread it around.

You gave Mom this book.

She said you used

to read it to her every night.

She was mistaken. It was your

grandmother. I never read it.

It was you.

And she gave it to me

and she read it to me.

It's a book about a bird.

No, it's about how it's a sin

to kill a bird. Atticus says...

Do you believe anything

that a lawyer says to you?

And if it's a sin to kill a bird

then it's a sin to kill...

Atticus took Heck Tate's rifle

and he shot that rabid dog

right in between the eyes.

And on that note,

I bid thee farewell.

Not bad for someone

who's never read the book.

After mine moved on

to a greener pasture,

I wore my ring too,

till I realized

it's not conducive

to my social situation.

Well, I brought enough

feline leukemia

for your touring show of cats,

but you didn't mention dogs.

This one's got an aural hematoma.

It's probably benign though.

Well, he just

kind of showed up.

A dog knows, don't he?

This one might.

I tell you, a dog knows.

The missus had an affliction...

a touch of epilepsy.

When a spell

was gonna come on,

my old dachshund would tie her up

so she couldn't move.

A dog knows, don't he?

You know what?

Some dogs have been proven

to detect heart attacks

and seizures, even traces

of bacteria in people.

There have been dozens

of documented cases

of what you might call

canine precognition.

Well, if that means the same

as a dog knows,

why don't you just say it?

A necropsy revealed nothing,

at least nothing I could discern.

And what's worse,

they keep coming.

I had two more DOA's last week.

I talked to some

of my colleagues

and they said the incidents

are isolated

to the north side, thank God.

So I shipped a couple

of the carcasses off to K State.

Yeah, they're great.

I have got to figure this out.

I mean,

that's what I'm here for, right?

Right?

Hello.

Ground Control to Major Mopey.

I miss her so much.

God bless her little

juvenile-delinquent heart.

What's not to miss?

She loathes me.

Come on,

she's probably dying to see you.

Yeah.

- Daddy!

- Hi, baby.

I shoed a horse.

- You did?

- I had some help.

- Like my hat?

- I love your hat.

Look at you.

You're...

you're... well,

you're not pale.

What your father means

to say, sweetie,

is that you look beautiful.

- How's Vinny?

- He's pigeon sitting,

which means I'm gonna have

two crazy birds when I get home.

Are you hungry?

Made salad.

I picked it myself.

Sure, let's go.

Hock, I can't

thank you enough.

There's no need.

How's she doing?

Well, she's passable.

How you doing?

What the hell's

that supposed to mean?

Come and get it!

Well, don't just stand there

like a clubbed catfish,

slap a feedbag on your face.

- All right.

- Come on.

A feedbag on our face.

Mrs. Melton was very pleased

with your finals.

So am I.

Are you still in trouble

at work?

Nah.

But that does remind me

and actually,

since you're talking about it,

I have a little project

that would be

a great summer job for you.

I mean, I can't pay you as much

as your grandfather over here, but...

Dad, I have a job here.

I have lots of jobs.

I'm in charge of the dishes

and the compost

and the saddles...

Don't you wanna

come home?

Hey, we'll talk

about it tomorrow.

Lillian, Cody tells me

you know a lot about horses.

Well, did he?

Well, I might be a little rusty,

but yeah.

What do you know

about thoroughbreds?

What do you need to know?

Why don't you meet me

in the morning and walk out

to the stable with me?

Be glad to.

You know, since this has

turned into some kind of occasion...

why don't we push

breakfast back till 6:00?

You watch the fire, Belle.

See you all

in the morning.

Good night.

Well, Mr. Banyon,

I've seldom seen finer.

I mean, he's worth

every penny they offered and more,

but I can't for the life of me

understand why you'd want to sell him.

Well, did you read the sign

out there on the drive?

- Yeah.

- Banyon Farms.

It didn't say

Banyon Petting Zoo.

Well, then you probably know

that the smart business decision

is breeding this stallion.

Why do you think

they wanna buy him?

Lillian's right, Grandpa.

You can keep Apache Wind

and still get your money back.

Just like Atticus' puppies.

Go turn him out, Doc.

What about them pups, Basham?

These two here

are cut real well.

This one's knuckle here

is all wrong.

This one's a hip-popper, for sure.

Well, you know

what you gotta do.

Mm-hmm.

You can't predict hip dysplasia

in a puppy.

Old Basham can.

That's absurd. No one can.

My dear, I have a lot of respect

for your knowledge of horses,

but there's no man alive

can cull a litter like Basham.

He was raised by dogs.

I don't presume

to tell you your business.

Please don't presume

to tell me mine.

That's enough, Hock.

If they're bred wrong, Cody,

they are bred wrong.

And they gotta be sacrificed

for the sake of the bloodline.

No, Grandpa.

Basham.

I'm blood.

What about me?

Am I bred wrong?

Am I a freak?

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