Fight Or Flight

by Amy Shojai

  “Shadow-dog, hold on. I’ll get you out.” She spoke with quiet confidence from habit, then gasped when he confirmed his name with a yelp—and something else. A tickle behind her eyes, deep inside Lia’s head made her blink.

  What just happened? No time to puzzle it out.

  Lia kept her tone low and warm, imbued with as much confidence as she could muster. The Shadow-dog had to trust enough to let her help, and at five foot eight inches and 118-pounds soaking wet, she couldn’t get him out by herself.

  “No problem. A’ole pilikia.” That’s what Abe always said. No excuses, make it happen. Her hand touched the bracelet, and she stuck out her bottom lip with determination. Buster and Beau were in her truck. One would be enough.

  “Thanks for saving my baby-dog.”

  His ears flicked. Again, a feathery whisper-sensation jittered her nerves, and she knew he understood and recognized something familiar in her words. No, not words exactly, but intentions maybe? Spooky, but felt a delicious tickle inside her head at the same time. Time enough later to figure it out.

  Lia kept up a constant murmur, confident he understood her intent, if not the words. Lia avoided eye contact with the black dog, and thrust one arm to the elbow in the icy water. His warm panting heated her cheek as she threaded the rope under his chest beneath the water. He stayed still, liquid eyes watching her every move. He nosed her cheek and she understood he’d granted permission.

  “Good dog. Brave dog.” She brought the rope out of the water on the other side of his body, and cinched it into a loop over his shoulders. She secured the tail end of the rope to a cedar sapling so at least he wouldn’t drift away. “I’ll be right back. Just wait.” His yelp of despair cut her to the quick, hurting her deep inside in a way she couldn’t explain. Lia raced back to the truck with Karma.

  After securing the puppy, Lia unbuckled the tracking harness from Thor. The old dog snored on the front seat of the truck. He’d been through enough and hadn’t anything left to give after he tracked down the canine escapees. Thank goodness she’d not needed his help to find the Pit Bull pair. At least she wouldn’t have Sunny Babcock coming after her. Lia had kenneled the pair in the back, and now led Buster out of his kennel. She knew Buster’s kryptonite. Even now, the Pit Bull carried his rubber chicken security squeaky in his wide, drooly mouth.

  Within minutes, Lia had harnessed Buster, raced with him to the edge of the flood, and threaded the end of the braided lariat to his harness. She’d have to play it by ear. She didn’t know what pull-command the dog knew. But Buster would do anything for his squeaky. It had to be enough.

  She lured Buster away from the flood until the lariat grew taut. Slow and steady, that’s what we need. Jerking the line might further injure Shadow.

  “Hey Buster, love your squeaky? Want a squeaky? Look what I’ve got.” Lia made the toy squeal and held it just beyond his reach until Buster strained to grab it. “Good dog, Buster, get it!” She tossed the squeaky onto the ground about six feet away, far enough he’d keep pulling but not so far he’d take off and drag the injured shepherd. Or so she hoped.

  Lia rushed to the edge of the water where the rope dug into the soupy bank. She shoved a stick beneath the line to serve as a rolling fulcrum for the rope to ride. Buster’s eager efforts inched the black dog out of the water. But the rope pulled the shepherd so tight against the bank, his paws had no purchase.

  His eyes were closed, his mouth half open, and tongue lolled pale and cold. The rope around his chest cut into his fur, and she worried it impeded his breath.

  “Hey Shadow! Don’t die on me!” She smoothed his cut brow. He blinked, and his tail stirred the water, but otherwise he didn’t move.

  Lia yelled encouragement over her shoulder. “Buster, get your squeaky. Get it, good boy.” Another foot and she could grab the shepherd without risk of falling in herself.

  “Shadow, you’ve got to want this, too.”

  What incentive to offer? Buster loved toys, Karma loved treats, but neither toys nor treats would stir this black dog from death. What would reach this brave warrior, when he’d already given everything?

  Then she knew, as clear as a shout on a clear, still day. “Wanna go home? Home, good-dog. Shadow, let’s go home.”

  He stirred, yelped, and his paws strove to reach for the bank, just as Buster gave one final charge. Lia caught the black dog’s front legs behind his elbows, trusting his teeth to stay clear of her face, and pulled as his pistoning rear paws clawed the bank. He collapsed on top of her, both of them safe on the bank, panting in concert with one other.

  The black warrior dog stared into her eyes, as if demanding Lia keep her promise. For a split second the image of a cat-eyed woman with white-streaked hair filled Lia’s vision. Then Lia blinked, and the vision disappeared.

  Chapter 14

  Karma rested, still exhausted but finally warm after what seemed a lifetime in the cold water. She nosed the empty bowl, and licked up the last drippings of broth.

  Lia sat beside her on the cement, stroking her fur, murmuring words Karma didn’t know. That was okay, though, she understood the emotion. She was smart that way. Karma’s short tail responded with a happy wiggle at the girl’s attention. She didn’t even miss her mother or littermates—well, not much—and hoped she could stay in the office with the girl from now on. Karma would like that just fine.

  “You spoiled your purple collar.” Lia tugged the soaked fabric over Karma’s head and tried to give her a hug, but Karma wiggled away. So Lia shut the crate and crossed to the door to the kennels. The other dog, Thor, slept on the other side of the room and didn’t rouse when she left.

  Karma caught the scent of the strange black shepherd who still reeked of filthy water and seeping blood. She’d been half-asleep when carried into the office area but roused enough to see Shadow lift a lip in silent warning when the girl offered to touch his injured face. Karma wondered why he didn’t trust the girl. People knew things dogs couldn’t know. The girl had gentle hands and a soft kind voice. She’d pulled them both from the flood. And fed them good things. Karma thought Lia was wonderful.

  She wanted to go see Shadow. Karma pawed and jiggled the front of the crate, and to her delight, it hadn’t latched. She pushed her blunt muzzle into the breach and squeezed through. The big black dog intrigued her. He made Karma’s tummy flutter and tail go faster when he looked at her. She wasn’t sure why.

  Karma peeked around the doorway, not wanting to be discovered and shooed away. The nearest kennel housed Dolly and the rest of the puppies, and the shepherd was in the opposite run. He rested on a warm blanket that smelled of many other dogs, but he didn’t seem to mind. His black fur was longer than Karma’s seal-slick coat, and still matted with mud. One side of his face and neck looked raw and smelled rank. Karma wanted to go to him, maybe lick clean his hurts, but after hanging up the coiled lariat on the wall, Lia crouched beside him.

  “Phones work again, and the internet.”

  His long, furry tail thumped against the blanket.

  She stroked his head, and when her hand came too close to his sore cheek, he ducked. “Sorry. Wish you’d let me treat that. Then, I’ll find your home.”

  The black dog whined. He cold-nosed her arm. Karma shivered at the mournful sound, and crept closer.

  “You want to go home, I know. I’m sorry, Shadow. You sure understand lots of words. Not everything, I know. But maybe you’ll catch some of what I say. If I picture it in my mind.” She half laughed. “Makes no sense, I know, but I’m sure we shared a connection, don’t you?”

  He woofed, and licked her hand. His brow smoothed and Lia’s mouth made a surprised “oh” shape like she heard something Karma couldn’t detect. Finally she smiled. That made Karma feel better. Shadow recognized that Lia was special, too.

  “It’s only been two hours. It’ll be two weeks or longer before things get back to normal.” The girl’s voice was calm and warm. “There’s no hurry. Besides, you need to get stronger.”<
br />
  Karma jostled against the door, making it squeal, and the sound summoned the girl upright, so Karma scurried out of sight.

  Lia hurried toward the office, and then turned back in the doorway. “I promised to take you home, and I will. If it comes to that, you’ll have a home here. With me and Thor.” Her voice caught. “And Karma.” Her voice broke, and she muttered the next words. “If I could keep her, I’d love her forever. You too, if you’d let me.” When she hurried back into the room, the door stayed ajar.

  Karma wasted no time. She dashed out of hiding to squeeze through the opening. She hesitated, looking at the shepherd.

  Shadow was so much bigger than her, twice as tall even while reclining. Karma turned her head away, licked her lips, and tucked her tail. For the first time in her life she wondered what to do. But then he tipped his head, and his massive tail swept the floor, beckoning her near.

  She scrambled to reach him, wiggling her entire body. He nosed her, exploring from shiny wet nose to stubby black tail, and she flipped onto her back and waved rust-furred paws as he learned her scent. Delighted, Karma play-growled and snapped the air, catching Shadow’s lip and he winced and stood to get out of range. His legs trembled before holding true. She continued to pounce at him, energy recharged by his attention. Karma leaped high to lick his mouth and slurp his eyes with puppy adoration and respect, signaling deference in the instinctive ritual.

  The bigger dog slowly waved his tail, nosing Karma especially around her tail. She wanted to sniff him there, too, and learn his scent-name that shouted louder than any words people used. But he maneuvered away from her attempts to sniff. He lifted Karma off her feet as he pushed her around with his prominent muzzle.

  He looked different than her mother and siblings. Where their paws, muzzles and cheeks sported rich contrasting color, his longer fur was black all over. Karma’s ears tipped over, like every dog she’d ever seen, but Shadow’s ears pointed straight up.

  And his tail—oh, his magnificent tail!—it spoke to her in a language Karma’s foreshortened version couldn’t match, with sweeping, elegant semaphore drawn through the air. Karma’s whole body wiggled in an effort to express herself.

  The shepherd froze. He lifted his head, ears swiveling as his wagging tail stiffened and raised higher. The fur above his shoulders bristled and a low growl bubbled deep in his chest.

  Karma started, and slicked her ears down before she understood his warning wasn’t directed to her. She pricked her own ears, standing shoulder to shoulder with the shepherd, and sniffed to discern what he already knew.

  There—it came and went, riding the breeze. Her own hackles rose when furtive steps accompanied a familiar scent. An angry man lurked outside.

  Chapter 15

  Lia played with the purple collar she’d taken off Karma. The flimsy thing served more for decoration than function. Now, of course, she could tell the puppies apart just by the way they entered a room. With the severe damage to the property, Derek would want to move them all somewhere else, not just the two Coop chose.

  She’d known this day would come, and knew better than to let herself care. Lia fisted her eyes and looked away from the crate in the corner where Karma rested from her near drowning. The pup needed a vet check before anything else. She straightened. That would be a valid reason for delaying the sale to Coop. Near-drowning victims, both pets and people, often looked fine but collapsed later. Lia didn’t want to risk anything with the baby-dog. Something told her that allowing any puppy to go to Coop would be a mistake. Not that she had any say in the matter.

  She sat down hard in the chair, and shoved the purple collar keepsake into a drawer, feeling defeated, angry, and frustrated. Lia already imagined hearing, “I told you so,” from Grammy and all of her friends. Grandfather wouldn’t say anything, he never did.

  The adrenalin rush of finding and rescuing Karma and her mysterious canine hero Shadow drained away, leaving her legs weak and stomach queasy. She leaned her forehead into cupped palms, wishing for a do-over of the whole day.

  On the desk between her elbows rested the digital camera from the temperament tests. She’d retrieved it from the far kennel, a miraculous survivor of the storm’s wrath. She sat up, and reached for the cable, and connected it to the desktop to download the video. Lia wanted to watch and remember Karma playing her way through each test, not the terrified soaked puppy she’d fished from the flood.

  Lia fast-forwarded through Mr. Green Collar and the other pups until Karma’s film debut cued up. On the screen, Derek carried the Black Collar puppy for its close up in front of the camera. He spoke almost too softly to be heard, but Coop’s voice was loud and clear.

  “Another one for bait? This one has some weight on him, anyway.” Derek hefted Mr. Black Collar and the puppy whimpered and hid his face.

  “Piss poor showing, Derek. Nothing like you advertised.” Coop’s voice dripped disappointment.

  “It’s her first litter. I paid top dollar for the stud service, and I’m giving you the pick of the litter.” Derek must have squeezed the pup he held, because it yelped.

  “Bait’s all any of ’em is good for.” Coop’s voice sweetened when Lia came into the frame and took the puppy from Derek’s arms. As soon as she left, Coop continued half-voice. “Hell, I’ll take all of them off your hands, the bitch, too. Won’t wipe all your debts free, but it’s a start. Cut your losses, Derek, and start fresh another time. Dolly has some fight left in her. That’ll give some of the up-and-comers a good warm up, and she might last a couple of rounds anyway. Can’t be too prepared before they go to the big show.”

  Derek nodded and looked away from the camera before yelling full voice. “What’s the hold up?” He flinched and glared at the sky when thunder boomed. Derek straightened, jogged away from the camera back to the middle of the grassy yard, and called, “C’mon, here puppy-puppy-puppy. Karma-pup, here-here-here!”

  Lia stopped the recording. Coop never turned off the camera. They didn’t know they’d been recorded. She sat for a minute. Her pulse pounded in her ears. She grabbed the edge of the desk when the room began to spin. Surely, she’d misunderstood, she had to be wrong. Coop, Mr. Cooper, was a respected businessman. Derek came from a high society upbringing. They weren’t thugs or uneducated criminals.

  She scrolled back to the beginning of the video before moving forward, but discovered the camera had been turned off between each of the other tests. She fast-forwarded through Karma’s temperament test to the end, and began to tremble and couldn’t stop.

  How could he? How could anyone conceive such a thing? The bastards! Anyone who would hurt an innocent animal . . .

  Checking her phone again, Lia breathed a silent prayer of thanks when she saw a couple more bars. She dismissed the three missed calls and message from Grammy. She started to text a quick answer and then stopped. It would open a conversation she couldn’t deal with right now. She knew what bait meant.

  Instead, she dialed 911 and then as quickly hung up before it connected. The tornado sirens had stopped but the police wouldn’t be happy with her diverting emergency personnel from possible injuries. The recording wasn’t proof, just indicated criminal intent.

  She couldn’t let them get away with it. The police needed to know. Dogfights were a felony.

  Lia leapt to her feet when Karma’s high-pitched frantic yelps joined ferocious baritone barking. She glanced at the puppy crate, puzzled how the baby-dog had gotten out, and hurried to the kennel doorway. She stopped when the bitter voice sounded behind her.

  “Put down the phone, Lia. You had to watch that video, didn’t you?”

  More angry than fearful, Lia punched in a three-character text message and hit send before she turned around.

  Then she saw Derek’s gun.

  Chapter 16

  Karma’s ears slicked back as she joined Shadow’s alarm bark. She remembered this man and how Dolly reacted to him. At the thought, Karma’s bark trailed off into a whine.

 
; She nosed the wire gate at the front of the kennel. When she sneaked into the space to visit Shadow, it swung shut behind her, but hadn’t latched. A good-dog could paw it open, just like Karma pawed open the crate in the office. She put a paw on the wire to do just that, but then Karma glanced up at the shepherd.

  At his look, Karma backed away, taking a cue from Shadow’s alert and cautious stance. She squared her own shoulders, facing forward with arched neck and taut tail, mimicking the older dog’s confident pose. Raised voices in the nearby doorway prompted Shadow’s rumbling growl. The skin along Karma’s shoulders rippled in response and her short fur itched. Shadow’s defensive pose proved more than enough for her to follow his lead.

  “Derek!” The girl’s voice sirened up an octave. “Why would you show me a gun!”

  Shadow flinched at the last few words, and bared his teeth. Karma wondered what the scary words meant, but trusted the other dog knew more than she did. Her own puppy-pitched rumble erupted. It didn’t sound as imposing as she wanted, so she increased the volume.

  “Put the damn phone away!” The man snarled like an angry dog.

  “Okay, okay.” Lia’s voice trembled.

  In the kennel across the narrow pathway, Karma watched her mother stir and whine at the strident tones. Dolly gave a quick lick to her exhausted puppies mounded about her, and then struggled to her feet and padded to the front of the kennel. She pressed her blunt muzzle against the latched barrier. It didn’t move even when Dolly paw-batted the door.

  Dolly’s eagerness to escape heightened Karma’s concern over Lia’s worried voice. None of the training games told her what to do. . Even a brave puppy-girl like Karma needed a strong leader to follow, like Lia. But if Lia was scared, there must be good reason.