Bobby D. Lux - Dog Duty (5 page)

“Good idea,” Ernie said.

“Fine,” Nipper said. “It’s just a faded old bowl that no one here wanted anyway. You know what, after taking a good look at it, it’s all dented up anyway. Water probably tastes worse in that bowl, so you might as well have it. Otherwise, they might as well just throw it out with the rest of the garbage.”

That one hurt. It hurt worse anything else he could have done to me in that yard. And it wasn’t like some stupid joke from Nitro. Nipper was more right than he knew. That bowl belonged to me after all. At least Nipper had no idea what he’d done. One good thing about the encounter was that it momentarily allowed me a chance to forget how badly my leg was throbbing, but as soon as
I realized that the pain was gone, it had a tricky way of jumping right back into place.

EXTRA!!!! EXTRA!!!!

WOOF-ington Bank Robbed!

Subjects unleashed and considered dangerous. Rabies not ruled out!

By Col Lee

(AP) A gang of canine bandits have struck again, this time nabbing over 10,000 pounds of chew bones from the Woofington Bank vault late last night…

Or so read the plastic chew toy next to me in the corner of the yard. The fact that they actually paid someone to come up with that nonsense story to put on a squeaky plastic toy
still amazes me. Who was it for? Certainly not for us. Other than the dogs working on the force, I can’t think of any who could read a word. Never mind that, who would want to? Honestly, I don’t even think that what we do is reading to begin with. Over time, you see humans perform similar behaviors around certain letters and symbols, and eventually you can piece together enough of a vocabulary to be able to plough through a sentence or two of human. And then there are all the languages you have to deal with, as if interspecies communication wasn’t already a difficult enough road to navigate. I don’t know who came up with the idea for humans to have different words for the same thing, but I’d guess they were no fan of law enforcement. The only word that everyone seems to agree on is
no
. Thankfully, it’s one we used a lot. I can’t count how many times I sat by while humans yelled at each other with no one knowing what the other meant. The more someone didn’t understand, the louder the other would get. As if volume somehow translated to comprehension. That only worked for us. It was always the person who relied on increased volume that ended up hogtied in the back of the squad car. Pick one language, the one that most humans understand, make that the rule, and be done with it.

We
dogs got it right, same with just about every other animal, with the exception of birds for whatever reason. We can bark anything and no matter what breed we’re rapping with: boxer, spaniel, whomever, it all makes sense to us.

My point is that the little story about the bank robbery was meant for humans. I dread
meeting the human who finds that amusing. Odds are it’s the same type you encountered on a drunk call. Here’s the secret to crafting a successful dog toy – you only need two things: the ability to be chewed, and noise making capabilities that simulate pain when you bite it. That’s it.

Not that I ever had time to play with toys in my youth and
I was far too old to start playing with them. I was put off by how many toys Nipper and Ernie had scattered across the yard. In addition to the newspaper, there was a mini-football, a collection of gnarled drool-stained tennis balls, assorted rubber bones, a thick multi-shaded rope with a frayed end tied to a ball with plastic spikes, some long feather and stick combination item that looked better suited for a cat, and an old stuffed monkey, which I assumed belonged to Nipper.

“How long you gonna be here?” Ernie said. Ernie acted like an unofficial mediator between me and Nipper.
I kept my distance from Nipper and Ernie. They stayed on one side of the yard, I stayed on the other. I took to the northwest corner of the yard, away from the neighbor’s fort. For the first tense hours after my arrival, Ernie brought messages from Nipper to me and asked if I had anything to offer back in return.

“
I just want to take a nap,” I said. “By the way, do either of you sleep here?”

I wasn’t accustomed to sleeping outdoors, but I felt the change of scenery would be good for my fur. Thanks to a poor choice of lawnmower
, or a case of canine laziness rubbing off on Officer Hart, the grass in the extreme corner was a few inches higher and provided a nice bit of cushioning for me. As an added bonus, my location guaranteed that the sun would hit me bright and early. No wonder it went unclaimed until then.

“
I’m over by the garden,” Ernie said, “and Nipper goes right by the-”

“Yes or no?”

“Like I was saying, no.”

“Then this corner is mine to sleep.”

“No problem,” Ernie said. “Don’t matter to me. I don’t mind the company personally. I’ve been in the pound plenty of times-”

“You’ve been locked up?”
I said, as my ears shot up.

“Yeah. Why?”

“What for?”

“Nothing major. Otherwise I wouldn’t be here.”

“That’s what they all say.”

“
They?
”

“I’ve seen your type a million times before. In and out of the pound, causing trouble. It’s never your fault, right?
You’re always catching a bad case or something. The powers that be have it out for you or some line of bull. You may be out now, but I haven’t met someone who never went back. They always go back. Just a matter of when.”

“Not me,
” Ernie said. “You won’t catch me locked up ever again. Not even here in the yard.”

“If you say so.”

“I’m just trying to be friendly here. Strike up some convers– Wait a second. Nipper was right about you. Hey, Nipper.”

Nipper was peeking from around the tool shed in the opposite corner of the yard like I hadn’t known he’d been there the entire time.

“You say something, Ernie?” Nipper said, his voice bouncing off the cheap aluminum.

“Yeah,” Ernie
said, as he backed away from me without breaking eye contact. “I can’t believe I missed it.”

When he was far enough from me, Ernie turned and ran off to go behind the tool
shed with Nipper. Ernie’s tail thumped off the side of the shed over and over. I ignored the annoying back-and-forth slaps of bone on sheet metal, thud-thud-thud-thud. I didn’t care what they were saying about me. I just wanted to rest. I closed my eyes and stopped listening to everything. Sleep did not come calling. Instead, it was Ernie once more. This time, Nipper came out of hiding and was with him.

“Wake up,” Nipper said.

“We need to ask you something,” Ernie said.

“I’m
awake and I’m done answering questions. Just leave me alone.”

“Let me get something straight,” Nipper said.
“This is my yard, our yard, me and Ernie. As far as we know, you ain’t supposed to be here, so just make it easy on everyone here and cooperate, got it?”

Now this was just getting funny, but not
ha-ha
funny. This was funny like when you have someone cuffed and sitting on a curb and they swear up and down that they have nothing on them, then you take one sniff from three feet away and, wait a second, there’s the bag of contraband that they’re about to claim belongs to their friend. It’s annoying, but there’s enough desperate humor floating around to stop you from grabbing an arm and swinging it out of socket.

“Are you a cop?” Ernie said.

“He don’t look like a cop,” Nipper said. “Too small. I bet he’s not.”

“He’s bigger than you.” 

“I don’t think so,” Nipper said.

“Yes I am,” I said.

“Who asked you?” Nipper said, grunting. “Just answer him.”

“What happened to your leg?” Ernie said. “Are you hiding out?
Can we help?”

“
I’m not helping,” Nipper said. “I bet he was crying over his boo-boo.”

“Could you two just leave me alone? I want to rest.”

“I don’t know where you come from,” Nipper said, “but around here, you don’t give the orders, we do. For the last time, why don’t you just answer Ernie’s questions?”

“Well then,” I said, propping my legs under me, “since we’ve gotten to the point of ‘for the last time,’ I’m going to play my hand too.
For the last time
, I suggest you leave me alone.”

“Not good eno-”

I was on him. I drove my shoulder into his chest. At the risk of ruining the impending drama, I didn’t bite him, nor was I planning to. I could have. His neck was there for the taking. Surprisingly, Nipper had some quickness to him and was able to brace himself on his hind legs and absorbed the initial impact. I got an arm around his side and wrestled him to the ground and put him on his back.

“Let ‘em go,
” Ernie shouted.

“I told you to leave me alone,” I s
aid, as Nipper tried to push me off with his legs, but I circled around so that he was just kicking the air. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Little
help here, Ernie!” Nipper said, as Ernie took off barking towards the house. “Hey, where are you going? We’re supposed to be a team.”

When I heard the door o
pen, I let off and backed away while Nipper still squirmed with his eyes closed and kicked at an imaginary boogeyman.

“What the hell is wrong with you, huh?”
Officer Hart said, as he yanked me up in the air by my nape and yelled in my face. He’d never been so aggressive with me in the past; he never had to lay a hand on me. I couldn’t even look at him. I broke the first rule of being a cop: I lost my cool. He was still holding me up, the veins pumping in his forearms, the disappointment barely concealed behind his eyes. He waited for me to somehow answer for myself. In the meantime, my leg couldn’t support my body and I slipped out of his grip.

“Is he okay?” Mrs. Hart
said.

“He’s fine. It’s just his leg.”

“I’m talking about Nipper.”

They must’ve thought I mauled him, which couldn’t have been farther from the truth. Officer Hart gave Nipper a once over, a pat down, and let him go.
Nipper ran around to the side of the house with Ernie behind him.

“Not a scratch on him,” Officer Hart said.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive. No bite marks. No scratches. Didn’t even pull out any fur.”

“Looks like Nipper held his own,” she said, with some misguided pride sneaking in to her indignation.

“A
month ago he wouldn’t have.”

Aw, come on. Give me some credit, wo
uld you? Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

“Is this going to work with him here? I know he was your partner, but Nipper has been a part of the family since he was a puppy.”

“He’ll be fine, honey. It’s his first day in the yard. I figured something like this would happen. New dog in a new environment and someone always has to try to be the big shot. They’re establishing who the alpha is.”

“I
figured Ernie would’ve been the one to challenge him.”

“Ernie’s not stupid.”

“And neither is Nipper,” Mrs. Hart said. “He knows the commands I taught him.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Fine. I’m glad none of them are hurt, but there has to be some punishment for him.”

“Honey-”

“No, I don’t want to hear it. He attacked Nipper and that’s one thing. Maybe Nipper started it, I don’t know, but he has to learn that this isn’t downtown at midnight and he can’t just pin down whoever he wants. What if he does it to Simon?”

Damn. You can’t argue with tha
t. With humans, the trump card is always the kids, no matter what the topic at paw is, when someone lays down the
kid
line, pack your bags and leave the argument with whatever dignity you have left. People will always put their children ahead of common sense. Not just women and moms or just men and dads. Not this type or that type. Everyone does it.

Evidence I’ve found has been used to send crooks away for life. They trust my judgment when lives are on the line, but what’s the first thing they do when I’m at a school or in the Fourth of July parade? The leash. And why? Because some kid might get scared, or worse, some kid’s parent might get scared. As well they should, right? After all, it’s because I’m on the damn leash. It’s a sign to them that even a trained police dog can’t be trusted, but take me off the leash, and they think I’m a waiting for the moment when no one’s looking so I can embark on a child-eating rampage.
It’s like cops who have tattoos. They can’t show them because it looks bad to the kids, but how bad can they be? The guy with them turned out to be a cop.

“Give him a chance to adjust,” Officer Hart said.

“Put him in time out until he calms down.”

“He’s fine. Look at him.”

She didn’t answer. She barely looked at me.
Officer Hart did the only thing he could: he grabbed me by the collar and led me across the yard.

“Let’s go, buddy,” he said, leading me away from her. “It’s just for a few minutes. I promise.”

We turned the corner of the house away from her and Officer Hart let me go, but I knew to keep alongside him. Nipper and Ernie followed behind us at a safe distance.

“He let go of him
,” Nipper said. “Is he crazy? What’s going-”

“Nipper, shut up,” Ernie said. “If he wanted to hurt you, he would have.”

“If I wanted to hurt him, I would have too. I just didn’t want to get in trouble.”

I walked across the backyard
next to Officer Hart and we stopped at a chain link door that connected the edge of the garage to the backyard fence.