Both Levi and Sunny watched Yoda, patiently waiting for him to retrieve from his memory the image of something seen for less than a moment. Little Kitty yawned, stretched and looked at Yoda upside-down with her one good eye (which was not all that good), then again drifted off to sleep, or at least appeared to. From the arm of a gray recliner, Kim watched with much more of a show of interest, for a cat.
Both Little Kitty and Kim were housemates of the three dogs, and each in her own way was vital to the success and continued operation of the Three Dog Detective Agency. While field work was important, both cats knew the Agency would fall to pieces were it not for her contributions, each cat thinking herself more important than the other.
Kim was the Office Manager, responsible for the evaluation of tips and other information that flowed to their house by one means or another, interviewing clients who came by while the dogs were on patrol, and maintaining all case files in memory. She also coordinated the Fifth Avenue Irregulars, a loose brigade of house pets, friendly ferals and wandering hobo cats that often assisted the Three Dog Detective Agency. She was a Torby, that is, a Tabby with tortoiseshell markings in swirls of gray and white, distinguished from the others of her breed by a cue-tip tail of pure white and a pattern of fur on her forehead that seemed to form the letter M. Of the two cats, she was the older by almost a full generation, was a few years older than even Levi.
Little Kitty was Kim’s assistant, at least in theory, but the real relationship between the two cats was babysitter and troublesome brat, or, perhaps, more accurately, frustrated teacher and gifted problem child. She was a Calico, with all of the vices and most of the virtues of the breed, and when she had first earned her name she had indeed been a little kitty; now the name was more ironic than descriptive. She was blind in one eye and had a cast in the other, so how much she could actually see, compared to what she claimed to see, was always a matter of conjecture. Born in the wild, one of three Calicos born that year, she had entered the house by seeming to not have enough sense to move out of the driveway when a car was driving up. After two weeks of riding in the car’s passenger seat for ten feet (if put to the side of the driveway she would stroll back to the middle) it was decided she would be safer in the house than out. Until Kim and the detectives had caught Little Kitty surfing the Internet with computer skills that could only be described as mad-crazy they assumed she was as d-u-m-b as she pretended; others who did not know her often made the mistake of underestimating her, and since she played the image for all it was worth, even her friends at times found themselves taken in.
Yoda was doing his best not to force the memory to the surface, as Levi had advised. They all knew from interrogating witnesses and suspects that when the mind was pushed it came up with all sorts of inaccuracies and false memories. He let the danger and excitement of the alley encounter slip away, sighing several times, easing his tensed muscles into a state of complete relaxation. He tried to imagine himself a Lhasa Apso in a Zen dream, but with better hair.
Don’t force it, Yoda told himself. Let it come on its own, Just relax and breathe. Omm…Omm…Omm…Stop that, now you’re just being silly. Relax. Focus on what you saw.
He saw the leather collar as if floating before him, cracked and well worn, the buckle scraped, the metal dented as if something hard had struck it. Something glimmered faintly beneath the collar, and he let it drift into focus as the collar seemed to recede to misty insubstantiality. It was almost like watching the rising of the moon from behind the eastern hills during the autumnal Feast of Anubis, full and golden against the red-tinged night, marked with formations upon its ancient surface that only dogs could see.
The dully gleaming disc seemed to ripple before his mind’s eye like an image seen reflected in water. It changed shape as it came into view, from a disc to an oblong made of some brassy metal, very scratched and battered, not the identity tag of any couch potato, but a dog of action.
On the tag were letters and numbers, heavily worn, almost lost in the scratches, but still legible. The collar faded completely from Yoda’s sight, as did all perception of the living room and the other animals watching him. The identity disc floated before him, his fleeting glimpse plucked from the mire of his memory and held in a single timeless moment. The markings were now very plain to him. It was almost as if he could actually reach out and touch the…
Little Kitty snored loudly.
The image of Iblis’ identity tag snapped out of Yoda’s recall like a popped balloon. Yoda almost fell on his pointed muzzle.
“Little Kitty!” Yoda cried.
“Un…what?” Little Kitty mumbled, craning her neck, yawning and looking around. “Why is everyone staring at me? Did I miss something?”
“I was trying to…” Yoda started to say.
“Never mind that now,” Levi interrupted.
“But I saw…”
“Good,” Levi said. “Tell us what you were able to recall, while it’s still fresh in your mind.”
Yoda nodded, for the image was already starting to fade.
“The tag was oblong, not round,” Yoda said. “It was very battered. Across the top it had the letters USA, then below that a letter followed by a series of numbers: K63875. Under that was another line, but I could not make it out so well.”
“Give it a try, Yoda,” Sunny urged. “You can do it.”
Yoda said: “I think it was 1INF2BAT2RCN.” Yoda shook as if a chill had gone through him. “That’s all I got.”
“You did well,” Levi said encouragingly. “That was excellent recall.”
“But what does it mean?” Sunny asked.
“That may become more clear as we go along,” Levi replied. “The important thing now it to try to find that German Shepherd.”
“We’re taking the case then?” Yoda confirmed with a little sigh of relief.
“Of course,” Levi said. “Your new friend is obviously not from around here—doesn’t even seem to know where here is—but he is a dog in pain, suffering some level of amnesia brought on by trauma. He needs our help.”
“Yoda, did you notice any wounds on him?” Sunny asked.
Yoda nodded. “Scars, his fur was thin in places, healing but a bit raw. He mostly seemed confused, unable to remember much of anything, just fragments.” The Pomeranian pranced in anxiety. “If we are going to look for Iblis we should…”
Yoda froze in place, staring.
“What is it?” Sunny asked.
“Yoda, do you remember something else?” Levi asked.
“It’s the collar, his leather collar,” Yoda said. “I didn’t notice it before, but when I said his name, an image of the collar flashed though my mind. Stamped into the leather was the word BARON.”
“Do you think that could be his real name?” Sunny asked.
“It would at least make sense,” Yoda replied. “After all, what kind of name is Iblis?”
“What kind of name is Yoda?” Little Kitty murmured, sniffing in disdain when she saw no one had paid her any attention.
“He told you the name was from a dream?” Levi asked.
“That’s what he said,” Yoda confirmed. “It was a name heard, one that was shouted at him.”
“It sounds foreign, could be that he was not being called, but being labeled in another tongue,” Levi mused. “Actually, it sounds familiar, but I can’t quite put my paw on where I heard it before.”
“If we hurry…” Yoda started to say.
“Yes, time is of the essence,” Levi agreed. “Since it’s been less than a half-hour, the scent-spoor of Iblis, or Baron or whatever, should still be fairly strong.”
“Let’s go then!” Yoda exclaimed, bounding toward the kitchen door. “Time’s a-wasting.”
Levi, however, was not a dog who allowed himself to be rushed into poor decisions. A quick response to help the troubled German Shepherd was important, but they had clues needing investigation. Any mystery, no matter how complex, could be solved, but to do so they had to have
information. Trying to solve a mystery without information was like trying to train companions, well-meaning but generally dim souls that they are, without barking.
“Kim and Little Kitty,” Levi said. “While we’re gone, please try to find out what Iblis means, what language it’s from. It came from his dreams, and the key to this mystery might be in his dreams. Also, see what you can find out about the markings on the tag.”
“We’ll get right on it,” Kim said.
Little Kitty yawned.
“Up and at it, Little Kitty,” Kim ordered, leaping from the arm of the chair to the back of the couch and slapping the younger cat’s bottom, claws not extended. “Go on, you!”
“Oh, all right,” Little Kitty muttered, stretching her paws out before her and arching her back. “Another good nap ruined.”
The Calico lazily dropped to the carpet, then loped slowly down the hallway. Levi glanced at Kim.
“We’ll take care of it,” Kim assured him.
“I know you will,” Levi said confidently. “It never crossed my mind that you wouldn’t.”
“But do keep an eye on Little Kitty,” Sunny suggested.
Sunny and Levi joined Yoda at the kitchen door. Levi hit the door three times, and it was opened. The driveway double gate was, they saw, already open, and only one car remained in the driveway, a red Ford Aspire that seemed held together only by a combination of dust, cobwebs and bird droppings; despite its looks, it did now and then venture out on errands. At the moment, however, it was stationary and as the three dogs filed out of the house and the door closed behind them a large cat stirred in the shadow cast by the car.
“Where are you three off to in the heat of the day,” the cat asked, sitting onto his haunches and curling his tail around him. His voice was deep, gravelly and tinged with a faint accent, a remnant of his Lithuanian homeland. The tom was colored with complex swirls of black and myriad shades of gray, and when he roamed at twilight he was often mistaken for a ghost.
“Yoda encountered a German Shepherd who might need our help,” Levi replied. With an economy of words, Levi related the facts, then asked: “Want to come along, Smokey?”
“Sure, why not?” Smokey growled good-naturedly. “Groucho!”
A long-faced Calico appeared from behind the left rear tire of the Aspire. There was an undeniable resemblance to Little Kitty, not surprising since they had come from the same litter, along with another Calico who now lived in Galveston, but Groucho was leaner and beneath his nose he had a swipe of black coloring that had inspired his nickname.
“Sounds like fun,” Groucho said. “Count me in.”
The dogs and cats trotted down the driveway, turning south at the walkway. Levi, in the lead, set a brisk pace. While the dogs held to the standard small-pack formation, it was not in the nature of the cats to do so, even though they completely accepted Levi’s role as alpha of the group. The cats bounded back and forth, sometimes walking along fence lines or climbing gnarled pepper trees so they could leap a dozen or more feet at a time, but were always careful not to surge ahead of Levi. The Dachshund-mix knew the folly of trying to herd cats, so he accepted the cats as they were, knowing they contributed to peripheral security. He appreciated the respect they paid him, as well as a trust cats rarely extended beyond their own species.
They paused at the corner and waited for the light to change. It is commonly assumed that dogs are color blind, but that is far from the truth. They see colors differently, but also see colors invisible to companions. But even if they were unable to distinguish red from green, they had more than enough intelligence to know the difference between the top light and the bottom light. They knew crossing with the light was no guarantee of safety, but it helped them overcome their natural kinessiphobia. The cats lacked that particular fear but they followed the lead of the dogs, generally.
As they neared the opening of the alley that ran north and south behind the Vietnamese restaurant, Levi slowed the pace and began sniffing the air. Though Yoda and Sunny smelt nothing but the odors emanating from the restaurant, they knew Levi had detected a scent plume, and no one was surprised when Levi unwaveringly sped to Iblis’ hiding place.
The wrecked car, Yoda noted, had been removed.
Smokey and Groucho bounded to the top of the cinder block wall that surrounded the pile of boxes on three sides and split their time between watching the actions of the dogs and scouting the area from above. Sunny swept the alley and the area around the motel, nearly a block away, with her keen vision while Yoda listened for the slightest sound-clue.
The alley seemed clear all the way down to the Motel 7
Levi varied the distance of his muzzle to the ground with the intensity of the scents coming to him. Though he periodically drew in gentle draughts through his nostrils, he mostly let the scent molecules rise to him, analyzing the way each one interacted with the portion of his brain that was very much like a sophisticated and complex chemical laboratory.
The strongest scents, of course, were those most recent, but it was still a delicate task separating traces of German Shepherd from the nearly overpowering aromas of onions, chilies and all the many spices that went into Asian cuisine.
Nor was Iblis’ scent the only animal smell to rise from the area in which Yoda had discovered him. Being the main disposal site for the restaurant, the partially enclosed space was frequented by all sorts of scavengers, from cats and dogs to skunks and raccoons, as well as the occasional down-on-his-luck companion.
Levi slowly sniffed his way through the maze of odors, holding some scents, discarding most. Finally finding Iblis’ scent-spoor, a mix of musk, oiled metal, smoke, sadness and terror, Levi finally emerged from the trash. He veered southward at the point where Yoda had last encountered Iblis, but the Pomeranian said nothing, not wanting to disturb Levi’s concentration.
As Levi slowly made his way down the rutted and pot-holed alley Yoda and Sunny moved behind, knowing they were entrusted with security. For Levi, the physical presence of the alley had all but vanished, transformed into a nebulous landscape of intertwined scent trails and ghostly forms. In his present state of concentration it was doubtful he would even notice a car barreling down on him, but he implicitly trusted his friends to keep him safe.
Iblis’ scent was quite different from all the other animals, not only because of species and breed but because it held a record of all the places he had been, though dimmed by time and environment. If Iblis had not intimated to Yoda that he was not from around here, Levi would still have known by his trail…though scents faded over time, stray molecules still survived for detection by sensitive noses, even if the dog had been bathed, not that Iblis had been given a bath any time recently.
Such peculiar smells, Levi thought, all so alien to the area…the sharp tang of leather, the bite of salt, the acridness of sulfur, a lingering hint of sand, though Iblis had not been in such a region for at least three months. Abruptly Levi halted, muzzle shifting to the right as another, stronger and more alien scent joined that of Iblis.
“What is it, Levi?” Sunny asked, suddenly even more alert.
Had his comrades been scent hounds, Levi would have drawn their attention to the arid tan smell that came out of the parking lot to the side of the restaurant, but such a description would have been as meaningless to Sunny and Yoda and it would have been to a dull-sensed companion.
“Another dog came out of the parking lot shortly after Iblis passed this way,” Levi said.
“His feet were hot,” Smokey said softly.
“His paws were like fire,” Groucho added.
Even Sunny, with her keen vision, could not see the latent heat that was plain to a cat’s prismatic eyes. She did not doubt the truth of what they said, for they gazed along the same axis created by the Dachshund-mix’s inquisitive nose. Clearly, the three of them were sensing relics of the same dog.
“Yoda, you said you and Iblis were alone in the alley,” Sunny said. “Could there have been another do
g nearby?”
“I didn’t hear anyone else,” Yoda replied. “Sure, noon traffic was pretty heavy, and I was distracted by Iblis and…and other things, but I gave it a good sweep. Actually, he had me so spooked with his talk about enemies I gave the alley an excellent sweep for noises, the parking lot too. No movements, no breaths, no nothing.”
“Okay, Yoda, we believe you,” Levi assured him, taking a few paces toward the source of the smell. “But there was another dog here, and if he was spying on Iblis, he would certainly have taken steps to be stealthy, remain undetected.”
“Maybe,” Yoda reluctantly admitted. “Some breeds are really sneaky, you know.”
“What sort of dog was it, Levi?” Sunny asked.
Levi sniffed the trace still lingering upon the air, frowned, then lowered his nose to the asphalt where the scent was stronger. When he raised his head he looked as worried as he did puzzled.
“I don’t know,” Levi admitted.
Yoda’s jaw dropped open.
“How is that possible?” Sunny demanded.
“Obviously,” Levi replied, “it’s a canine breed we’ve not come across before. We know of hundreds, but there are thousands in the world that have never been brought to America, breeds that exist only in small areas, often cut off from the world.”
Yoda gulped nervously. “Could it be the Master?”
Sunny and the two cats looked alarmed at the suggestion, but Levi shook his head.
“No, this is entirely different, and, besides, we can close the book on the Master,” Levi said. “He’s at the bottom of the bay.”
The others nodded in agreement, even Yoda, though the wild-haired Pomeranian had read enough comics to know that no corpse meant the bad guy was bound to turn up when you least expected it. Maybe not this time, he thought, but some day. Still, he was glad to accept Levi’s assurance that the ancient dog-beast who had caused so much trouble last month was out of their lives forever, at least for the moment.
The Death & Life of an American Dog Page 3