Chap­ter I: The Com­ing of Lad begins at a moment when the tran­quil­i­ty of Hamp­ton is unrav­el­ing. A string of burglaries—some car­ried out with pre­ci­sion, oth­ers clumsily—has left the once-peace­ful vil­lage tense and wary. The res­i­dents respond in pre­dictable ways: lock­ing doors that had always remained open, fit­ting latch­es where none were need­ed before, and whis­per­ing about shad­ows and strangers. At the Place, a thir­ty-acre stretch of for­est and mead­ow, the unease feels sharp­er. Its iso­la­tion, once its charm, now seems like a lia­bil­i­ty. With their old point­er recent­ly gone, the Mis­tress and Mas­ter feel that empti­ness not just emo­tion­al­ly, but prac­ti­cal­ly. So they set­tle on a collie—a com­pro­mise between form and func­tion, beau­ty and util­i­ty. When Lad arrives in his crate, ele­gant despite his cramped quar­ters, it’s clear he is not the brute guardian the Mas­ter expect­ed.

His coat gleams in the sun, a regal blend of mahogany and white, and his deep-set eyes reveal a qui­et intel­li­gence. Yet, as he bounds from his crate, tail wag­ging and pos­ture gen­tle, it’s clear that intim­i­da­tion will not be his strength. The Mis­tress is charmed instant­ly, and even the skep­ti­cal Mas­ter admits that there is some­thing noble in Lad’s man­ner. Lad claims the Mis­tress as his own with a silent look and a head pressed into her palm. He adapts quick­ly, not through sub­mis­sion but through thought­ful aware­ness. He obeys not from fear but out of understanding—he watch­es, learns, and then acts. With­in days, he knows which rooms are off-lim­its, which paths are sacred, and which tones in the Master’s voice mean cor­rec­tion. Still, beneath his calm demeanor is a bound­less enthu­si­asm that seems to antic­i­pate adven­ture.

The first test of that antic­i­pa­tion comes late one night, when silence is bro­ken by the crunch of grav­el and the squeak of a gate. A bur­glar, unaware of the dog now resid­ing at the Place, slips toward the house. Lad, alert but not alarmed, sees the stranger not as a threat but as a guest—a poten­tial play­mate in the dark. With­out bark­ing or bar­ing teeth, he gives chase, his steps light and eager. To Lad, it is a game. To the thief, it is chaos. The man stum­bles through flowerbeds, ducks behind hedges, and even­tu­al­ly pan­ics enough to fire a shot into the air. Lad, unfazed, con­tin­ues to dance cir­cles around him, nip­ping at his coat and dart­ing just out of reach.

In a moment that might have been script­ed by fate, the thief’s fran­tic sprint ends at a hid­den ditch. He tum­bles in, sprain­ing an ankle and drop­ping his stolen satchel. Lad, thrilled by the noise and move­ment, leaps in after him, retrieves the satchel with a proud shake of his head, and trots home. When the Mas­ter opens the door to inves­ti­gate the com­mo­tion, he finds Lad stand­ing proud­ly in the hall, tail wag­ging, the satchel gripped gen­tly between his teeth. He has no idea what he’s done, only that he has some­thing to offer. To him, it’s been a thrilling night—a new friend, a chase, and now, per­haps, a reward.

Morn­ing brings clar­i­ty and debate. The police find the bur­glar where he fell, grum­bling about a dev­il dog that tor­ment­ed him through the gar­den. The Mas­ter, ever ana­lyt­i­cal, sug­gests that Lad had no idea of the dan­ger or the stakes. The Mis­tress insists oth­er­wise, con­vinced that some deep instinct guid­ed him. Either way, there is no deny­ing that Lad has secured his place—not just as a pet, but as a part of the Place. The news spreads, and neigh­bors begin to refer to him with admi­ra­tion, half-jok­ing­ly call­ing him the town’s unlike­li­est hero.

Lad, for his part, car­ries on unchanged. He explores the woods, naps on the sun-warmed porch, and waits patient­ly at the Mistress’s side. He doesn’t bask in praise because he doesn’t under­stand it. His loy­al­ty is qui­et, his courage untest­ed by inten­tion but proven in effect. What begins as a chap­ter about fill­ing an emp­ty space ends as a les­son in unex­pect­ed worth. Lad’s arrival marks more than just a change in the household—it sig­nals a new chap­ter for the Place itself, guard­ed not by force, but by the stead­fast pres­ence of a dog who sim­ply loves deeply and fol­lows his heart, wher­ev­er it may lead.