The Death & Life of an American Dog (Paws & Claws Book 4)

by Ralph Vaughan

  “Forbidden?” Sunny said, shocked. “That’s ridiculous!”

  “We had to be very careful in dealing with the native dogs,” the Greyhound said. “One word about Anubis or First Dog, and they’d be on you in an instant, even when outnumbered. It was as if they were gripped by a madness, or some weird form of rabies.”

  “How do they live then?” Yoda asked. “I mean, do just rely on instincts and act like savages?”

  “Savages, yes, but not strictly by instinct,” Atlas replied.

  “Tell them about the Dog at the Well,” Flashman urged.

  “The what?” Yoda asked.

  “The Dog at the Well is a story…”

  “Now, that’s a story I’ve read before,” Levi said. “But I don’t see how it could be at the heart of the savagery demonstrated by these new dogs. It’s rather a sweet tale, as I recall. A companion traveling in a parched land climbs down a deep well to drink water from the bottom. When he climbs out, a thirsty dog licks the hem of his robe which got wet in the well. Taking pity on the poor dog, he climbs back down the well, fills his boots with water, then returns to the surface, despite a dangerous climb fraught with obstacles, and saves the dog from death. Both the companion and the dog then find favor with the All-Creator.”

  “That’s a lovely story,” Sunny remarked. “I love stories where companions act almost like dogs. But how does it explain the dogs’ perverse obsession with honor, or the way they treated that Gull Dong tonight?”

  “That may be the way you read it, Levi, but that’s not quite the way it’s told to Afghanistan dogs,” Atlas said. “It’s been changed in the telling, so to speak; they don’t have a written language so…”

  “What about the secret…” Yoda started to ask.

  “Not even that,” Atlas replied. “All writing is forbidden. They believe in a strictly oral tradition, and the rulers of the packs have used that to their advantage, changing the old story. Now, as the tale is told, the Dog at the Well is a supernatural being, sent to test the companion. The companion still fetches water from the well for the benefit of the dog, but now his reward is being pushed into the well by the dog.”

  “That is a terrible story,” Sunny growled. “Instead of giving the companion the best qualities of dogs, they’ve given the dog the worst traits of companions.”

  “I don’t get it,” Yoda complained. “Why did the companion get the old heave-ho?”

  “Because he showed weakness,” Atlas replied.

  “Kindness and mercy,” Flashman added.

  “But those are both key canine characteristics,” Yoda protested. “They make us better dogs to companions, to other dogs, but, most of all, to ourselves. They raise us above our innate savage natures.”

  “The followers of the Dog at the Well…”

  “And that’s almost all dogs you find in that part of the world,” Flashman said.

  “They have no room in their beliefs for kindness or mercy,” Atlas continued. “They see both as weaknesses. They constantly work to cull weakness from their society.”

  Sunny sighed sadly. “Starting with the pups.”

  “What are their relationships with companions?” Levi asked.

  “Very strange,” Atlas said.

  “Downright crazy strange!” the Greyhound added.

  “They work for companions in all the traditional ways,” Atlas continued. “They guard houses, travel with hunters, and herd other animals on farms and ranches, but they do not live with companions as we do.”

  “You mean they’re outdoor dogs?” Yoda asked. “We know lots of dogs who stay outside. The yarders down the street…”

  “The Sunshine Boys at the corner of Fifth and Davidson,” Sunny said.

  “They never go inside, just always stay in the front yard,” Yoda finished. “Are they like that?”

  Atlas shook his head. “Not quite. Consorting with companions outside the scope of their jobs is forbidden. It’s seen as a weakness, trying to encourage kindness and mercy.”

  “I don’t see how dogs can be made to go against their nature,” Sunny huffed. “Our kindness toward companions fill their lives with hope, and do us a world of good.”

  “Well, some dogs do live as house pets,” Atlas admitted.

  “But secretly,” Flashman said.

  “Yes, secretly,” Atlas agreed. “For if any of the followers of the Dog at the Well find out about it, they will try to kill those pets. And the companions will also punish any companion who is found keeping a pet in the home.”

  Yoda shook his head violently. “Never going to Afghanistan! It sounds like a terrible place.”

  “It is,” Atlas said. “I used to think the war there was the worst of it, then I met the dogs of Afghanistan, found out how they acted and what they believed. I changed my mind about the war.”

  “Well, it’s not all that bad everywhere,” Flashman said. “In some of the smaller, more isolated villages you find dogs who are not much different than we are.”

  “Same with companions,” Atlas added.

  “Those dogs obey the ancient call of First Dog, even though they may have never heard of him,” Flashman continued. “But they are hardly safe in their isolation.”

  “What do you mean?” Levi asked.

  “Soldiers of the Dog at the Well actively recruit from outlying villages,” the Greyhound said. “It gets vicious sometimes.”

  “What could a dog do that would affect the sense of honor of another?” Levi asked. “What could Baron have done to merit such a single-minded pursuit?”

  “Some offenses are very small, like passing gas at the wrong time, marking an alpha’s area, or not snapping at a hand that tries to pet you,” Atlas mused. “But, you’re right, Levi. To make these dogs leave their homeland and come to someplace they consider cursed and unclean, not to mention requiring the punishment of death, would have to be something big. The greatest sin would be enticing other dogs away from the cult of the Dog at the Well.”

  “Like teaching the ways of First Dog and Anubis?”

  “Actually, it wouldn’t even have to be that serious to arouse the ire of the hardcore to extreme levels,” Atlas said. “It could be as simple as trying to make friends. If a dog joins a pack dedicated in service to the Dog at the Well, all his former friends are supposed to be dead to him, and you make no friends outside the pack at all.”

  Sunny shook her head. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard anything more un-doglike than that.”

  “If you have friends in a pack,” Flashman added, “you keep it to yourselves. If it does not advance the cause, it is dangerous. Even knowing an infidel dog could warrant being put to sleep.”

  “I’ve talked to Baron, got a sense of what he’s like,” Yoda said. “There are things about a dog’s character that just don’t change, no matter what, and I know he’s not bad. He couldn’t be in the Army and be a bad dog, right?”

  “No,” Flashman said, sensing what Yoda needed to hear, but believing it too. “I would not think so. If anything, getting through Army training makes a dog’s dedication to doing the right thing even stronger. I do not think you have to worry about that, Yoda.”

  “Then I don’t see what Baron could have done that would be so bad that they have to hunt him down,” Yoda said.

  “It’s useless to speculate without further information,” Levi pointed out. “Unless we can find out from another source, we are going to have to find a way to jog Baron’s memory.”

  “I tried on the way back, you heard me,” Yoda said. “He did say his name, though, that was good, but ever since then he’s been giving a good impression of a clam.”

  “Maybe after he gets some rest…” Sunny suggested.

  “When he wakes up, you should talk to him, Yoda,” Levi said. “He seems to connect with you. If you can get him to open up, he might start to remember. His memory is the key.”

  “What if I can’t get him to remember?” Yoda asked. “If I push him too hard, it might make th
ings worse. He might be better off if another Army dog talks to him.” He looked to Flashman. “I can be a little pushy at times, a little brusque; Baron might need a lighter touch than it’s in my nature to give.”

  “I’m sure you’ll do fine,” Sunny encouraged. “Admittedly, you can be a bit snarky at times, but your heart is never anywhere else but in the right place.”

  “Yoda may be right,” Atlas said. “But I don’t think Flashman is a good choice for ‘a lighter touch’.”

  Instead of looking insulted, Flashman nodded. “Miss Sally.”

  “Yes,” Atlas agreed. “Miss Sally.”

  “If we can get a message to…” Flashman started to say.

  A mournful howl came down the hallway out of one of the back bedrooms. Almost instantly Kim and Little Kitty flew down the hallway into the living room.

  “Come quick, Levi!”

  “Hurry!”

  And the cats ran back the way they had come.

  Before the other dogs could react to the urgent summons Levi leaped over the top of the couch. By the time the others had joined them, crowding at the door, Levi was already by Baron’s side where he lay struggling. Levi spoke softly but authoritatively. Baron had stopped howling, but still thrashed about.

  “Yoda, come here and talk to him,” Levi ordered.

  “And say what?” Yoda demanded nervously. “What do I say?”

  “Whatever you have to say to calm him down so he doesn’t hurt himself,” Levi replied.

  “But I don’t know what to say,” Yoda said, his voice pitched high with encroaching hysteria. “I might say the wrong thing.”

  “Speak from your heart, Yoda,” Levi advised. “Words from the heart are always the right words.”

  “Hey, Baron, it’s me, Yoda,” the Pomeranian began nervously. “Remember? Your pal Yoda? Boy, didn’t we have a time of it with those cats tonight? It was the Chop Ears, and they would have had their way with me tonight if it hadn’t been for you, big guy. Saved my life, you did. That’s what friends do for each other. And that’s where you are now, buddy, among friends. Nothing can hurt you while you’re with friends.”

  Yoda did not know about speaking from the heart, but he was saying whatever popped into his mind. He felt like he was babbling.

  “While you’re under the protection of the Three Dog Detective Agency nothing can hurt you, safe among friends,” Yoda murmured softly. “And you got more than just us looking after you, big guy. You got the Marine Corps and the Army too. Take it easy, Baron, and rest. Sleep. Sleep and dream good dreams.”

  Baron began to calm down, released, at least for the moment, from whatever demons plagued his mind. His eyes had remained closed the whole time, but his breathing, which had been fitful, now slowed to deep rhythmic puffs.

  Kim moved in and lay against the German Shepherd’s chest, letting him hear her monotonous purring and the slow beats of her heart, same as she would do for frightened kittens. As Baron eased into a deep sleep, Yoda gradually fell silent.

  “It’s okay,” Kim said. “I’ll watch over him.”

  Levi nodded and motioned for the others to return to the living room. The two military dogs lingered a moment, gazing doubtfully at the sight of a German Shepherd being nurtured by an old Torby, then shook their heads in wonder and returned to the living room.

  “Who is this Sally you mentioned?” Levi asked when they had all assumed the Sphinx Position and Little Kitty was stretched atop the couch, keeping a wary eye on Flashman.

  “She’s a therapy dog, a Collie,” Atlas explained. “She works with companions who have PTSD…”

  “P-what?” Yoda interrupted.

  “PTSD, Posttraumatic Stress Disorder,” Atlas replied. “It’s a kind of brain problem that happens to companions in war. They experience bouts of anxiety, are fearful, have memory problems and bad nightmares, and sometimes have feelings of guilt about…”

  “Could that be Baron’s problem?” Levi asked.

  “It might, I suppose,” Atlas said thoughtfully.

  “We’ve been concentrating on penetrating Baron’s memory for an explanation of why these dogs are after him,” Levi said. “But it may be that his memory also holds the key to freeing him from whatever frightens him so much. The two situations may be linked, the reason for his PTSD and the reason why these dogs want to do him harm, but there’s also the chance we could be dealing with two separate incidents.”

  “Could this Collie…Sally, help Baron?” Sunny asked.

  “I think so,” Atlas said. “As I said, she works with companions, but also helps lots of dogs when they come back or are retired.”

  “She’s a military dog?”

  “Yes, Army,” Atlas said.

  “Like me!” Flashman interjected.

  “Yeah, except she doesn’t lie around all day and dream about chasing rabbits,” Atlas said.

  “Hey!” Flashman protested.

  “Active duty,” the Doberman added.

  “Well, yes, she is that,” Flashman agreed. “But I don’t…”

  “How do we get in contact with her?” Levi asked.

  “Well, she doesn’t live that far away, just down in Otay,” Atlas said. “And she has a computer, if that helps any.”

  Little Kitty’s head popped up. “Just give me her Skype handle, and I’ll take care of the rest.”

  “It might be better if I talked to her,” Atlas said. “It might be a little freaky for her, getting a video chat from a cat.”

  “No can do,” Little Kitty replied.

  “Why not?” Atlas demanded, bristling. “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve used a computer.”

  “Because I said so,” Little Kitty said, smiling.

  Atlas growled at the challenge.

  “The computer is in our room so you can’t use it,” Little Kitty explained. You couldn’t make it over the gate without knocking it down. Besides, our food bowls and litter boxes are in there. I know how you dogs are—you can’t seem to tell the difference between the two, and I don’t want your big head stuck in either.”

  The Doberman opened his mouth, tried to think of some snappy comeback, then closed his mouth.

  “Okay,” he said, and gave Little Kitty the Collie’s Skype name.

  “Don’t feel bad, Atlas,” Yoda said after the cat vanished.. “Little Kitty may act most of the time like she’s got squeaky-toys in the attic, but don’t get into any kind of verbal sparring match with her. That’s why I just stick to one-line zingers.”

  “Do those work?” Flashman asked.

  “Not as often as I would like,” Yoda admitted.

  “We have to keep an eye on those dogs somehow,” Levi said. “But, as you pointed out, Atlas, it’s not going to be easy. There is no way to get out on Gunpowder Point without being seen.”

  “That works the other way too,” Atlas said.

  Levi nodded. “They can’t leave without being seen.”

  “They could swim out,” Sunny said.

  “The Afghan Hound can probably swim as well as you, Miss Sunny,” Atlas said. “But not the Gull Dongs or the Bully Kutta.”

  “No, they swim like rocks,” Flashman said. “Maybe not even as good as rocks.”

  “F Street runs into Bayside Terrace on the other side of the trolley tracks, then turns southward toward the marina,” Levi mused thoughtfully.

  “And that’s where the old road is, leading to where the old restaurant used to be,” Yoda said.

  “Some road!” Sunny snapped. “Makes the other roads in Chula Vista look good, and you know how bad they are.”

  “The side of Bayfront away from the point is all marshland,” Levi said. “Thick groves of cattails and bamboo, some bushes that can thrive in the brackish water. A dog hidden in there could watch without being seen.”

  “And be miserable at the same time,” Yoda said with a shiver, thinking what his fur would be like after even five minutes there.

  “It would take more than one dog,” Atlas pointed
out. “Since the Gull Dong lost track of Baron—and that may be why they gave the poor fellow such a drubbing, to return his honor to him—they will have to search, and that means splitting up.”

  “I don’t like them being so close to the house,” Sunny said. “Gunpowder Point is only about a mile away, and it seems even closer since all you have to do is travel west on F Street till you run out of road. If they start asking around about Yoda, it won’t be long till they’re at our front door.”

  “What about bringing in the police dogs?” Yoda suggested. “I know we like to take care of our own problems, but Officers Arnold and Antony owe us big time after getting them out of that jam. And don’t forget about Blackie and Sergeant…I mean, Captain Rex.”

  “It may come to that, but you heard what Atlas and Flashman said about how the Afghanistan dogs fight,” Levi said. “The CVPD K-9 Unit is as good as it gets, but I’d like to keep them out of…”

  “Okay, it’s a done deal,” Little Kitty said, bounding into the room and leaping atop the couch. “Sally the Collie will be here in the a few hours.”

  “What?” Atlas exclaimed. “She’s coming in the middle of the night?”

  “Yes, that’s what ‘she’ll be here in a couple of hours’ means,” Little Kitty replied. “She wants to be here when he wakes up in the morning.”

  “I don’t like her coming all the way across Chula Vista at this time of night,” Atlas said. “Especially coming out of Otay.”

  “Well, like I said, it’s a done deal and she’s on her way.”

  The Doberman grumbled his dissatisfaction, but decided not to get into an argument with a cat. It was unbecoming, and he did not want to chance being rendered speechless again.

  “Tell me, Sunny,” Levi said. “Did the dogs look as if they were settling down for the night?”

  “They did,” she confirmed. “We couldn’t get very close, but it did not look like they were getting set to go anywhere.”

  Levi nodded thoughtfully and glanced at the door.