Chapter Two #2
Less than twenty minutes since they’d pulled away from the alley entrance, Jock was angling in beside Ace in a small parking lot.
He dismounted quickly, beating Ace to the passenger door.
“How’d he do on the ride?” Jock leaned down to look inside the crate, seeing the bright eyes of the dog staring back.
He was striking, one eye brown, the other blue.
“Whined pretty badly until right now.” Ace said, reaching past him to grab a corner of the carrier. “Didn’t fight or fuss. Was just piteous until he could see you again. I think you found a friend.”
“You think he’ll make it?” Jock grabbed the other end of the crate and lifted, balancing the dog between them so he wouldn’t slide around inside. “He’s pretty bad.”
“Yeah, but he’s strong. And the animal has a misplaced trust of humans, but that’ll work in our favor.
” Ace used his heel to rap against the vet’s backdoor, then stepped to one side as it opened from inside.
“Work in your favor, nursin’ him back to health like you’ll need to do.
” They crossed the threshold from the bright sunshine to the dim interior, and Ace said, “Hey, Doc. Glad you could see us. We got an abuse case. I’ve made some calls, and there’s no info about who dumped the dog in the alley, so you’re clear to make a report. ”
“You talked to Wrench, then?” Jock stepped sideways around an examination table, settling the crate on the surface.
The dog’s eyes didn’t waver from him the whole time, and he felt that stare like a weight.
He heard a low whine that made his gut ache.
The plea of Help me was written on the dog’s face in the quirked eyebrows and the wrinkled skin between his tattered ears.
“What’d he say?” Jock bent over and opened the door of the crate and laid his hand firmly on the dog’s head to keep him still.
More tenderly than his barked questions, he told the dog, “Hush now. You’re gonna be okay. ”
“Ace,” the vet said, pointing to the thumbscrews on his end of the crate. “You do those. I’ll take care of this end. What do we have, boys?”
“Pitty or pit bull mix. He’s got burns over a good portion of his torso and neck.
Legs, abdomen, head, and tail seem to be spared from whatever it was.
They don’t look like fire burns, Doc. Don’t smell like fire burns either.
It’s got a bite to the scent. More chemical.
” Ace rested his hands on top of the crate. “Whenever you’re ready.”
“He’s pretty well behaved. You think he’s shocky?” The vet nodded as a signal, and they lifted the top of the crate off, revealing the dog’s body. He took a deep breath as he stared. “Jesus. I hate people.”
The vet went to work on what he could see, and Jock felt the dog start trembling under his hand. “Easy, boy. You’re okay.” Looking up, he asked Ace, “What did Wrench say?”
“No video of the location available. I called Dyno, too, and he didn’t have anything.
No witnesses and no feed means it’s unlikely we can catch whoever did this off one dump site.
” Ace stepped backwards with a sigh, letting the doc cross in front of him, and then pressed against the table again.
“If the cops have a pattern, they can match this to any other cases, and it would give them more ammo when they went to court.”
“If they go to court,” the vet interrupted, holding up his blood-and-fluid-covered gloves.
“I need the dog out of the crate entirely. The good news so far is, it’s just dermal burns, no underlying tissue or deep burns I can see so far.
It’s a mix of first and second thickness, which means he’ll recover and regrow his fur.
” He paused, then said, “Probably.” He shrugged.
“Mostly. The damage to the tail is healed, so that happened a while ago.”
Jock steadied the dog’s head, one palm pressed over his brow and one under the latch of his throat, while the vet deftly lifted the dog’s body and Ace slipped the crate out of the way.
Brown and blue eyes never left Jock’s face, and the dog was calm, not even a raised lip to indicate the level of pain he had to be in.
The vet turned away, then came back with tubing and an IV bag. “Put your thumb here.” He pointed to the bend of the dog’s front leg. “Be my tourniquet tonight. Lots easier on the guy.”
Jock locked his thumb and finger around the dog’s elbow, applying pressure where the vet said, his other hand stroking the dog’s muzzle and cheek.
Once the IV was started, Jock made to step away and stopped when the dog’s frame went tense, every muscle tight as if for flight. “Hey, hey. No. You’re a good boy. A real good boy.”
He crowded close, encircling as much of the dog as he could, cradling the animal against his chest. The dog didn’t cry out, or even whine, though Jock knew it had to hurt.
The dog sucked in a big breath, and then sighed it out, head slipping sideways to lay over Jock’s arm.
Underneath his palm, the dog’s heart beat on, strong and regular.
“I don’t know what kind of magic you have, but this is an excellent state for treatment. I can work around you, mostly, as long as you’re okay being the emotional support human.” The vet grinned as he took out various vials and tools.
“I’m good doing whatever helps this guy get better.”
“What’s the long-term plan for him?”
Jock shook his head. “No idea. I’ve got a big ole mastiff at home, or I’d take him in a heartbeat.” He adjusted his hold on the dog to free one hand. “But maybe.” He pulled out his phone and slowly unlocked it, then navigated to the texting app. “Just maybe.”
*Pretty Silly, I’m at a vet’s office with a badly injured pit bull. How do you feel about expanding our little family?*
Not expecting a fast response, he was caught off guard when the device rang in his hand.
“’Lo?”
“Jock, what’s happened to the dog?” Silly’s tone carried concern and a little humor. “What dog is it again?”
Fair question, since he volunteered at a no-kill shelter over in Slidell. They’d taken more than one senior dog on a day’s adventure, usually winding up on the beach, somewhere the dog could run without being on a leash or surrounded by concrete.
“I found him in an alley. Looks like chemical burns all over. He could hardly hold his head up when I found him. I called Ace to come pick him up, then followed them here to the vet’s office. He’s a gorgeous pitty boy, white with a brown nose, and beautiful blue and brown eyes.”
“Yes.” He could hear the humor strongly now.
“Yes, what? I didn’t—”
“Yes, bring him home when you can. Will he be able to be moved today?”
“We can’t bring him home. We’ve got Tank.”
“You think Tank won’t love some company? He gets bored when we’re both out of the house. This guy would give him a friend.” Silly paused. “It’d be good to give the old man a friend.”
That gentle nudge punched all the air out of Jock, and the dog lifted his head and whined, looking back at Jock with those eyes that seemed to see everything. He’s reacting to my emotions. If I’m the emotional support human, I need to do a better job.
“He is an old man, isn’t he?” The specter of Tank’s inevitable final days rose up in front of him. I already lost him once, found him by luck alone, and that finding brought me a wealth of good days so far. I can’t lose him again.
“Oh, baby, I didn’t mean it like that. I just worry about Tank when we’re not here. I know between us we cover him with love nearly all day. Maybe this pit bull could take up the slack when we’re not home.”
“We don’t even know if this dog will be okay with Tank.” Now he was trying to talk himself out of this thing he hadn’t known he wanted until Silly offered it to him. “I won’t have Tank mauled.”
Ace snorted a laugh behind him. “I suspect Tank can hold his own.”
Jock twisted his neck to glare at the older man. “Peanut gallery.” On the phone, Silly’s laughter rang through bright and true. “He’s going to need a ton of care.”
“Peanut gallery here again. I happen to know Twisted would be highly offended if you insinuated your job at the garage was more important than taking care of this dog.” Ace stepped to the side when Jock reached back to try and whack him.
“Ask him if you want an earful. Take his words at face value. He has no ulterior motive when it comes to men under his patch.”
“Okay, let’s say I bring Maynard—” Jock stopped himself and waited the half beat it took Silly to start laughing again. “I know. But he’s bad, baby. I don’t know what would happen if things go south.”
“I suspect Maynard is tougher than you’re giving him credit for.” She was still laughing. “Plus you already named him, my love. You’re in a tight spot with no way out. Just accept and let it happen. Baby, you’re the one who named him.”
Maynard whined softly, and Jock turned his attention back to the dog. “Shhh, boy. It’s good. You’re good. You’re going to be just fine. I won’t let it shake out any other way.”
“Tell Maynard I can’t wait to meet him. I’m still at the shop, but I’ll go home in an hour and take Tank for a good, long exhausting walk. Let me know if Maynard gets to come home today.”
“Will he be able to go home tonight?” Jock pinned the vet with watchful eyes. “Maynard, I mean.”
“Not tonight, and maybe not for a couple more. He has about a dozen open and weeping wounds, and I’d like to get him past the danger point for infection before I let him out of here.
” The vet stepped back from the table and leaned a hip against the cabinet behind him.
“I’m going to report this to the cops. If they find the original owner, and they don’t have anything to do with the abuse, you might have a fight to keep Maynard. ”
“If and when that happens, we’ll sort it out. Best thing for the dog. That’s the goal.”
“Love you, Jake.” Silly’s voice had turned soft and sweet, and Jock suddenly had to fight against going hard.
He cleared his throat, then responded, “Love you, too, Silly.”