Bobby D. Lux - Dog Duty (26 page)

“What about him?” Saucy said.

“What
about
him?” Ernie said, as the freed dogs surrounded Henry and weren’t concerned about making sure he was okay. “Just another rat from the gutter as far as I’m concerned. Fritz was right. This time it was for real. And it looks like there’s no one here to save you.”

“No ‘ard feelings, whadda ya all say, right? Tell you what, ‘ow ‘bout you all get a lifetime free tab at The Dogcatcher’s Net, on the ‘ouse. A one-time only like special.”

There were no takers among the two dozen dogs
who stuck around to
tend
to Henry.

“Should we do something?” Saucy said
, to Ernie.

“What can we do?
” Ernie said. “They’re free dogs. They can do whatever they want to him. We didn’t see anything.”

“You can’t just leave,” Scamper said
, with a mouth that was now short a few teeth. “You can’t just leave me like this.”

“You’re right,” Ernie said
, as he spotted a pull-down power switch off in the corner, one that looked like the kind they use to flip the switch on the electric chair. “We can’t just leave you like
that
. Let’s see what this does.”

Ernie
jumped up, grabbed the handle in his mouth, and pulled that lever down. A machine connected to the handle whirred to life with a high-pitched fervor. A giant crane swooped down from the ceiling and squeezed its grip around Scamper’s crate. Scamper was lifted with ease and the crane followed a track along the ceiling and stopped over an open cargo container marked with strange lettering (“looked liked a bunch of scribbles” Ernie said, later). The jaws opened and the crate fell into the container with an echoing metallic thud that rang their ears.

“Did you know that was going to happen?” Saucy said.

“Nope. But sometimes, like Fritz says, you just have to go for it.”

Look, I don’t believe
that either, but this was the story as relayed to me straight from Ernie himself. Who am I to question him on his story? It was his moment of glory and he earned it. If he says he shipped Scamper to China, then as you’re reading this, Scamper is being chased through the streets of Beijing by a chef with a meat cleaver. We should be so lucky.

For the record, Saucy didn’t correct the story when I asked her about it. And no, Ernie wasn’t around
when I asked her, so who knows?

Nipper caught up with The Perp at the end of the pier.

“Wou
ld you hurry up, please darling?” Scarlet said.

“I’m trying my best here,
” Nipper said. “I’m almost got him.”

“Wait, is that you, Nipper? I was hoping that was Fritz coming for me.”

“You got me,” Nipper said, as he smelled the same fear coming off The Perp that I did that night in the alley. It’s repulsive and insulting and there’s something in it that makes you want to eat it. Nipper wondered if he was really there to save Scarlet, was he there to catch The Perp, or was he chasing him for a whole other reason that might not be so black and white? Nipper was a few feet from The Perp, seconds away from catching him, and then what? He’d never bit a human hard before. He’d play wrestled with Officer Hart, but barely put any pressure on a bite. Could he bite with vicious intent on a human if he had to? What would it taste like? Would there be blood? There better be if he was going to bite hard enough to stop him. There was only way to know. “And I got this, Scarlet.”

The Perp threw S
carlet’s crate to the ground.

“Scarlett!” Nipper barked, as he watched it roll
over and over several times before skidding to a halt. The Perp flung open his jacket, reached inside, and pointed a shiny gun right at Nipper’s charging, wipe open mouth. The gun went off. It exploded next to Nipper’s ear. The immediate heat from the barrel singed the fur on Nipper’s neck. Shreds of fur along his tail were sliced off as the bullet whizzed by.

Nipper had an instinct that any dog, police or otherwise, could be proud of. He sunk in the bite of his life around The Perp’s forearm and tackled him hard to the ground. He wasn’t thinking about Scarlet or if she was okay. The b
ones in The Perp’s forearm bent in Nipper’s mouth. The crack and the release of their natural tension vibrated through his teeth. The Perp cried out in agony and tried to reach for the gun that fell from his hand when his head bounced off the concrete. Nipper straddled his prey and tore at the limp arm in his mouth. He was no longer the dog he’d been before. He tasted blood. The adrenaline turned Nipper into a wolf. Scarlet, dazed, but otherwise no worse for wear, loved what she saw.

The Perp stopped squirming and was still crying, but Nipper held on to that bite as long as he needed to.
Not even the oncoming sirens stopped him.

Clay got the first bite on me. I expected both of us would go for an immediate throat bite. Clay, instead, went low, shooting under me and grabbing hold of my good leg. My body came down on top of Clay. I spun my leg out of danger before he could tear at it. I went for his leg, right above the knee, but he too spun to safety.

“Little slow?”
Clay said. We both aimed high for the second go around. The air screamed out of our lungs as our bodies crashed into each other. His arms squeezed my ribs while our skulls bashed into the sides of one another. Clay pushed me into a block wall. I lost my balance as one my leg couldn’t hold both of us up. Clay got to his feet faster and went for my neck. I tucked my head in just enough time for Clay to rip a hole in my cheek. I was on my side and he was above me. I landed my first real bite on his front arm, holding on to it for a few seconds, long enough to tear off a patch of fur and skin and pull him off balance to the ground. We both got to our feet and clashed again. I got his ear and tried to tear it off.

Clay wrapped his arms around my torso
again and flung me to the ground. I crashed on my bad leg and it popped out of socket once more.
Oh no, no, no, no, no, no
, I thought. Not now. Clay stepped back and shook off his arm that I’d gotten a hold of. I gingerly got back to my feet, but couldn’t put any pressure on my leg. I couldn’t charge him again. Clay knew I was done. He knew I couldn’t attack him with one leg. I could still defend, but when you’re fighting not to lose, even if you’re successful, you still don’t win. And in this fight, there was only going to be a winner.

“Wanna trade?
” Clay said, as we stopped, inches apart. Our eyes connected, every sense heightened. We were one dog in that moment. We shared the same emotions, the same fury, the same pain, and the same fear. We both fought the urge to walk away, but I wasn’t going to let him, and I wasn’t going anywhere. “My arm, your leg? What do you say?”

I’d never been in a fight like this
, ever. Clay was a mess; he was covered in holes along his arms, legs, and face that all spilled blood with every heartbeat. I imagined I looked the same way. Probably worse. There was a gust of wind and the salt from the ocean stung as it danced across bite marks that I didn’t know I had. The warm blood trickled down my face. I couldn’t close my jaw all the way, but I could still bite.

I was next to the wall and braced myself against it to hold me up.

“Time to finish this,” Clay said.

“Take your best shot,” I said, as a last-minute idea showed itself in my mind.

“Looks like we know who the stronger dog is after all, don’t we, cop?”

Clay shot
in at me with everything he had. He catapulted himself off the ground and aimed right at my throat. I took a breath and smiled. I put every ounce of my weight onto my bad leg.

My leg crumbled and I fell to the cold ground as
Clay sailed over me. He implanted his nose, face, and cranium into the cement wall behind me with a dull thud. His dead weight landed on me and I felt his wilted body spasm in shock. I pushed him off me with my leg. Sure, the dog in me wanted to finish him. It would’ve been easy to take that one last bite, but Clay said it himself. He was right about one thing. I was a cop. The cop in me knew that wasn’t the right way to handle it. It was over. I won.

“
Yeah, but we know who’s smarter,” I said. Like Nipper, I too heard the sirens approach.

Grand City PD was on the scene in minutes.
An anonymous citizen reported the gun shot, and they were chasing after Nitro, who, it turns out, had escaped from his partner at the dog show. That won’t look good in the final report. Nitro managed to swim towards a breakwater and got himself stuck out there.

I took cover around a corner as animal control
treated Clay. They scooped him up and took him away. The Grand City guys stood around and tried to figure out how to get to Nitro without getting wet. They decided on calling in the harbor watch, who were only twelve minutes out.

“Suspect down,” a voice
piped up, over the officers’ radios. “He’s in custody at the end of the pier. Request backup. Looks like he was taken down by a German Shepherd. Uh, definitely not one of ours.”

Good dog
, Nipper
.

I w
as done taking cover. A sunset had formed in the direction back towards Grand City proper. I had another hour or so of good light left in the day. I figured that was as good of a direction as any to limp towards. I’d see Nipper and Ernie back at home.

“Hey wait,”
Nitro said, barking to me. “Come on, Fritz. Help me get out of here! I’m freezing.”

“Sorry,” I said, knowing he’d be dry
and safe in a few minutes. “No can do, pal. I’m going home. Besides, I’m retired. By the way, I appreciate the assist out there. Thanks, Nitro.”

“Ten?” the beagle said, to a trotting, plump Pekinese as they picked up the pace to keep up with the rest of the pack, “Are you sure? I heard it was more like a gang of fifteen.”

“It w
ouldn’t surprise me, either way,” the plump Pekinese said.

The two fell back into the group of dogs
that followed Nipper around the dog park, but remained at a respectable distance from Nipper and Scarlet. She clung to Nipper’s side and took every chance she could to nuzzle into his neck while they walked. Some of the dogs simply said hi to him. Some welcomed him back. A few apologized to him. One even said he secretly liked Nipper’s song. Some had questions about what kind of gun it was and if Nipper saw any pound time. Others still asked if there was anything they could do for him. Scarlet stopped and addressed them all.             

“Look fellas,” she said
, as the reigning queen of the park who’d finally found her king. “All you need to know is that this dog standing here next to me is a hero. He was brave and strong and quick and ruthless and he alone saved me from certain doom. If you’ve heard a rumor about what happened, let me tell you, I promise that it doesn’t do justice to what Nipper did. Now why don’t everyone here leave us alone and think about what you might have done if you were in a similar situation. And then you think about what Nipper here did for me.”

I saw Nipper smirk to himself. Sure, he happened to save her in the process, but she’d never know that Nipper had to save himself first.
Scarlet planted a nice long kiss on Nipper for everyone to see and gawk at. The dogs soon scattered and resumed their miscellaneous dog park activities while Scarlet led Nipper to one of those quieter parts of the dog park.

Ernie and Saucy had found a corner of the park back around by the trees where they roughhoused together. Ernie let her win
, and suddenly, with him lying on his side, he stopped flailing his arms like an eager puppy and looked at her. She too stopped and sat down next to him, genuinely wondering if something was wrong.

“You’re not a street fleabag,
” Saucy said.

“I know,” Ernie said, as he rolled over and looked as sophisticated of a dog as he was ever going to be. He placed his paw on top of hers and just kept it there. “
It just sounded cool at the time.”

I’m positive that the same thought passed though all three of our heads: it’s about damn time, Ernest Tubbs.

There was one dog oblivious to any of the drama and intrigue at the dog park that day. Missy was allowed in for her first official visit within the hallowed outer fence. She had a stick, some dirt, a grass stain across her back, and plenty of room to run. I’ve never seen a dog so happy just being a dog. I’m not saying I got emotional watching it, but then again, maybe I did.

She was under the watching and moderately concerned eyes of Officer and Mrs. Hart
, who stood together along the outer fence. Simon played a video game in the Intimidator. They didn’t give us any grief about escaping. The fence was repaired, Ernie’s hole was covered again, but it was okay. They were more concerned with getting me fixed up… and not in the way that Ernie was afraid of (which also did not happen). My wounds looked worse than they were. I healed up nice and good. I’ve had worse.

They weren’t talking
, but Officer and Mrs. Hart stood next to each other at the fence. He put his arm around her and she leaned into him. I don’t know any better about the human way of doing things, but that seemed good enough for now.   

As for me…

The outline of the moon shined down on me through the clouds, but there was no time to ponder its meaning. I was back in pursuit. Flat terrain, grass. A piece of cake. My target would be in my grasp in another step or two. All I needed to do was jump. I’ve been here before.

I suppose Grand City
wasn’t as bad off as I’d thought. So what if there’s nowhere new for me to mark? What that really means is that this city was mine. I’ve claimed every inch for my own. I could go anywhere and know who’s who and what’s what without thinking twice. Some of the streets and buildings weren’t what they once were, but who was? And who’d want to be?

It wasn’t that Grand City stopped growing; it was me who stopped l
ooking for something new. I was afraid of running out of wisdom. That’s one thing you learn when you think you’ve said everything you have to say: it’s time to go out and find a new story and some new wisdom. So, on second thought, I think there are still a few places left in Grand City where I haven’t left my mark yet. I suppose I should start looking.

B
efore I could do any of that, it was time to take this guy down. He didn’t need to help me by hanging his arm out in my direction, but I’ll take it. Down you go, good sir. I’ll never get used to the taste of metal, cotton, and dried leather, but that’s what Grand City made their protective training suits out of; same as when I was a pup. For all I know, I bit into this same arm piece years ago when I was the trainee.

Officer Hart blew his whistle
. I let go and sat down next to him as we faced a fresh line of K-9 recruits and their prospective partners. For my effort, Officer Hart fed me a few treats from the bag around his waist. The officer in the training suit got up and said he was fine. Of course he was. I took it easy on him.

“Good boy, Fritz,” Officer Hart said. The prospective officers lightly applauded me while the line of new K-9’s stood still at attention. I nodded to them.

“That’s how you do it,” Officer Hart said. “Just like Fritz there. Clean, quick, and effective. I’m biased, but he’s the best dog to come through this academy, and there’s no one better to learn from. That’s it for today. Class dismissed.”

Officer Hart rubbed my ears while the prospective officers continue
d to practice basic commands with what daylight was left. I looked forward to showing them the obstacle course in the morning.   

Grand City isn’t going anywhere. And neither am I.

THE END