“I may not know exactly what breed this is, but I can make an educated guess,” Levi continued. “It’s not a Bulldog, but is not very far from that family.”
Sunny looked doubtful. “When I think of stealthy, it’s not the image of a Bulldog that pops into my mind.”
“Couldn’t hide from me,” Yoda asserted. “They wheeze and gasp a lot, not to mention snorting.”
“Bulldogs don’t walk with fire.” Groucho agreed.
“Not a Bulldog,” Levi admitted, “but from the same bloodline. What you’re thinking of as the Bulldog is what was bred in England to bait bulls, which is…”
“Savage sport!” Sunny exclaimed.
“…how they came by their name,” Levi continued, “but like most dogs their bloodline extends back through time and deep into the heart of Asia.”
“Wolves,” Smokey murmured with cattish smugness.
“Just a myth,” Yoda sighed. “Dogs no more came from Wolves than cats came from Smilodons.”
Smokey and Groucho chuckled that they had pushed one of Yoda’s many buttons.
“Yoda, focus.” Levi said softly, the gentleness of the tone causing Yoda’s attention to snap back. “While our unseen watcher is not an ancient dog, it is an older breed than the modern Bulldog, stocky but not ungainly, a silent hunter as much as it is a powerful fighter. And if it was able to keep off Yoda’s radar…”
Yoda bristled, but said nothing.
“…Out of Yoda’s awareness,” Levi corrected smoothly, “then he is also very cunning, and thus very dangerous. Be on the look out for him.”
“BOLO,” Yoda murmured. “I love BOLOs.”
“He watches too much NCIS,” Groucho whispered to Smokey.
“I heard that,” Yoda muttered, mostly to himself.
“You’re sure it’s a him?” Sunny asked.
“Definitely male,” Levi replied.
Levi resumed his trek down the alley, moving with a bit more swiftness now that he not only had a strong scent but a double trail to follow. Their wariness heightened by the discovery that not all of Iblis’ enemies were in his mind, Sunny and Yoda watched for the slightest sign of trouble. Smokey and Groucho forsook the narrow corridor of the alley for the rooftop of the connected garages that lined the east side of the alley.
As Levi sniffed his way along, he felt as if he were actually following two dogs. Even if Yoda had not described Iblis, he would still have seen the misty phantom image of a big German Shepherd, moving swiftly, pursued by demons only he could see, leaving behind not only scent-molecules of the physical dog, but the more elusive and harder to analyze traces of the emotions and fears that drove him. The pains he felt.
As to the other dog, the one who followed some minutes later and took pains to walk near every oil spill and trash pile, as if hiding his scent was second nature, that dog was an enigma, Levi thought. His form refused to rise from his scent, but because of the similarities of smell to a Bulldog, and from the deductions he had made from his atypical behavior and movements, Levi held a vague image in mind—smooth-coated, lean, heavily muscled, long legs but slightly bowed in the haunches, and large head with teeth to match. He lacked only the coloring, but he was sure that would come in time, for if they were going to involve themselves in Iblis’ life, his problems would become their problems, and that included his mysterious stalker.
Levi was glad when Iblis’ trail turned away from the Motel 7 and carried on out the south entrance, and even happier when it veered eastward on the side street, away from the madness that was Broadway. It was all too easy imaging a dog in Iblis’ frenzied state barreling straight to the intersection and on into traffic.
It was a break for the detectives, Iblis’ flight taking them into a residential area, for here they were likely to find watchful eyes and even a few allies, though roving gangs were still a danger. Levi came to a sudden halt, startled by a change in the scent. He sniffed from one edge of the sidewalk to the other and back again, then up onto the lawns on one side and down into the gutter and street on the other. It was impossible, but there was no denying the evidence of his own nose.
“What is it, Levi?” Sunny demanded, raising her head, peering warily at each house and in the spaces between them.
Levi sniffed the air, searching for the slightest trace, but failing.
“Did you lose the scent?” Yoda asked. Then he shook his head, not believing his own words. “No, not that.”
Groucho and Smokey had abandoned the line of dilapidated garages for the rooftop of an older house. When they came over the top and saw the dogs stopped below they bounded down.
“The paws are cold,” Smokey murmured.
Yoda shook his head. “Cats!”
“No, they’re right,” Levi said, abandoning his attempts to pick up the second scent. “All traces of the dog trailing Iblis vanished. No ground-smell, no air trace. Nothing.”
“He might have gone off another way,” Sunny suggested.
“Then there would have been a trail leading away, even a faint one,” Levi pointed out. “He’s just…gone.”
“Like he was teleported,” Yoda gasped.
“He also watches too much Star Trek,” Groucho whispered to his fellow cat.
“I heard that,” Yoda growled under his breath.
“The good news,” Levi continued, “is that Iblis’ trail is strong, and that we’re now in a neighborhood where we can ask around, see if anyone saw him. I’m going to keep after him, and I’m taking the cats with me.”
“What?” Yoda and Sunny exclaimed together.
“What?” Smokey and Groucho exclaimed almost in unison.
“Sunny, Yoda, I want you two to go from house to house and talk to any pets you can, any strays that are about,” Levi instructed. “Smokey, Groucho, I know a clowder is not a pack, but you can give me the security I need and still remain true to your nature.”
“This is nuts, Levi!” Yoda cried.
“Well, I wouldn’t put it that way,” Sunny said diplomatically. “However, Yoda is more right than wrong in this. You need us at your back…your pack.”
“And Iblis needs us to do whatever is best for him, if we are to have any hope of helping him,” Levi pointed out. “Information is what we need most of all.”
“Yes, but…” Yoda started to say.
“And the animals along this street and at the cross street ahead might have seen something important,” Levi continued.
“Well, yes, but…”
“And who will they more readily talk to, you or the cats?”
Yoda and Sunny looked at each other, then at the cats who were busy preening themselves in what was for them a fallow moment. As much as they hated to admit it, Levi was right. While Yoda and Sunny would have, as members of a pack, provided better security for their alpha, the cats could do almost as good a job. But in gathering information, the dogs could do what the cats could not. It was no contest, the two dogs realized—not only would the animals react better to a couple of dogs coming around asking questions, but they had experience the cats lacked. Cats were silent and sneaky, they realized, but nothing beat a dog when it came to digging up facts. All right, they finally agreed, but there was no law saying they had to like it.
“Groucho and Smokey, you’re with me,” Levi said.
“We’re on it,” Groucho said enthusiastically.
Smokey merely nodded and followed Levi’s lead. Compared to Smokey, who was a cat of quick action and few words, Groucho was something of a chatterbox. Though Groucho had many of the weaknesses common to male Calicos, he had learned fighting lessons well from Smokey, but even Smokey could not teach him how to be the strong, silent type.
Sunny and Yoda watched as Levi and the two cats set off to the east, Levi setting a pace with which the two dogs would not have been able to keep. As they had expected, the cats acted improperly, not falling into a pack formation but bounding willy-nilly, though they had to admit the cats did provide a much wider fan of securi
ty around Levi than they would have.
Yoda shook his shaggy head. “It’s just wrong.”
Sunny sighed. “Yes, but did you really want to leave the cats to gathering information?”
Yoda also sighed.
Sunny saw Levi and the cats cross the quiet street, then turn south at the corner. She hoped the trail did not cross G Street, for the next big road after that was H Street. She shuddered, thinking of the heavy traffic constantly traversing that five-lane thoroughfare.
“We need to cover this street completely, but quickly.”
Yoda agreed. “You take this side, I’ll take the other?”
Sunny nodded and they set out on the task Levi had assigned.
* * *
Zain smiled slyly as he watched the animals brought by the Pomeranian. He thanked the Dog at the Well for the patience to wait after losing Iblis’ spoor. He was, however, surprised the wild-haired little dog had returned with so many allies…and cats.
Surely this was a cursed land, as Anila had so often told them, a sin-shrouded land where dogs and cats worked together rather than acknowledging the natural enmity between them.
The brindle Gull Dong was both confused and disappointed when those accompanying the Pomeranian split into two groups. It was clear the elderly black and white dog was following the trail left by Iblis (accompanied by cats!), but the other two dogs were moving from house to house, though not for any fathomable reason. He yearned to pursue the tracker dog, but doing so would require him to abandon his hiding place far above them.
Later, he would be able to come down from the flat roof of the duplex apartments he had attained from the pepper tree, but, until then, he could only watch and hope.
Chapter 3
Though Levi was still puzzled as to how Iblis’ stalker could so quickly and completely vanish, he concentrated fully on the matter at paw—where was the panicked Iblis? He turned south at the T-intersection, then frowned when they crossed G and headed toward H Street, an avenue even busier than Broadway, not only because it connected two heavily traveled interstate highways, but because a full half-mile, between Broadway and Fourth, ran alongside the Chula Vista Shopping Center.
The cats quailed a bit when they realized Levi was taking them toward H Street, the constant whoosh of traffic quickening a spark of caution even in their blithe and adventurous spirits. But since Levi was heading on without pause, what could they do but follow? They could not let the dog see them hesitate, and if the trail actually took them to the other side, well, they would cross that street when they came to it.
Levi breathed a small sigh of relief when the trail led east, up an alley running behind some business that fronted H Street. It was perhaps an indication that the panic motivating Iblis’ flight was in ebb, that his canine senses were beginning to return. Otherwise he would have simply followed the flow of the street and barreled into the pitiless traffic; it was a situation that happened all too often in the dog world.
At least I hope he’s starting to come to his senses, Levi thought.
* * *
As Sunny moved from house to house, checking with the various pets, she could not shake the feeling that she and Yoda were being closely observed. She did not like the way the second dog’s trail simply vanished. Levi never lost the track of anything they were after, at least not that way. Yes, sometimes trails became too faint even for Levi’s superlative sniffer, or a quarry might disguise a scent, but for it to simply vanish…
The sudden disappearance was no indication of teleportation, as her overly imaginative friend had so flightily conjectured, but of a cunning mind, one accustomed to deception and prevarication. It was a disturbing thought, as those were not typical canine traits, but were common among animals like hyenas and jackals.
Yet Levi had assured them that Iblis’ stalker was indeed a dog, not some disreputable cousin or surviving ancestor. The idea that there might be somewhere nearby a dog whose nature was so perverse and inimical was very unnerving. The Golden Retriever paused in her task and gazed at the seemingly ordinary houses and apartments along the quite side street. She saw nothing but the occasional pet gazing out the window at the strange sight of dogs not walking their companions. Despite the warmth of the afternoon, Sunny felt a shiver course through her.
So far, unfortunately, none of the pets she had talked to had seen anything out of the ordinary. No one had seen either Iblis or his shadow. It was hardly surprising, she reflected, since most pets at the noon hour would be snoozing on sofas or beds, and had there been any strays around, not that she had found any yet, they, too, would have been grabbing zees in some nice shady out-of-the-way spot. What Sunny would have given for a yarder or two, but this stretch of street, with its tiny rentals and postage-stamp yards did not lend itself well to either fenced-in yards or outdoor pets.
She glanced across the street and saw Yoda jumping up and down at the side of a run-down house, trying to get her attention. She looked both ways several times, then crossed the empty street as fast as she could. As she drew closer, Sunny saw that Yoda was talking to a large black Doberman through a chain-link fence.
Yoda turned as Sunny approached. “This is Atlas,” he said. “He says he may have seen something.”
Sunny smiled at the Doberman. She was herself a large dog, weighing in at nearly a hundred pounds, but Atlas dwarfed her. He appeared very stern, but when she stepped closer to the fence she saw his eyes were soft and caramel colored, and there was a hint of an amused grin tugging at the corners of his black lips.
“Tell her, Atlas,” Yoda urged excitedly. “Tell her what you told me. He saw Iblis, Sunny. Or may have seen him. And then…”
“Yoda, please give your new friend a chance to speak for himself,” Sunny interrupted.
“He’s quite excitable,” Atlas said, his voice deep and smooth, but with that slight burr that comes to some canine species with the passage of years. “But he is a Pomeranian, so there you are.”
“My name is Sunny,” she said.
“Yes, with the Three Dog Detective Agency,” Atlas said with a slight nod. “So your little pal was telling me. I’ve heard stories of you three, but I thought they were just that—stories.”
“Nope, we’re the real thing,” Yoda cut in.
Sunny shushed Yoda, then asked: “Did you see a German Shepherd running along the street?”
“I did indeed, Miss Sunny,” Atlas replied. “He caught me by surprise, else I would have reacted more quickly, but I guess the years are catching up with me, nothing to do about that, I suppose. I called out to him as soon as I recognized him, but…”
“Wait,” Yoda interjected. “You know Iblis?”
“What can you tell us about him?” Sunny added.
“No, wait, I did not mean that I know the lad personally,” Atlas explained. “I mean, I recognized him as a brother.”
“But he’s a German Shepherd, you’re a Doberman,” Yoda said, stating the obvious, as was his wont.
“STO,” Sunny whispered, only to Yoda’s ears.
“No, not a brother in that we had the same dam or sire,” Atlas said, but without any hint of exasperation or impatience. “I meant that I recognized him as a brother in arms—a military dog.”
“You were a military dog?” Yoda said, his eyes wide.
Atlas turned his side partially toward the fence and craned his neck outward so they could better see his old leather collar. Set into the leather were three colorful campaign ribbons in a line, and near to them was riveted a small brass rectangle incised with lettering Yoda could not make out, but which Sunny, with her sharper eyesight, saw quite easily.
“You used to be a Marine Corps dog?” she said.
“I still am,” he asserted. “Atlas. United States Marine Corps, First Marine Expeditionary Force, Search and Recon.”
“But you must be pushing fifteen, at least,” Yoda pointed out. “And if you’re a war dog, what are you doing here?”
“I am retired from servi
ce,” Atlas admitted. “But that only makes me an old Marine, not an ex-Marine. Once a Marine, young Pomeranian, always a Marine.”
“Oh,” Yoda said. “I…uh…didn’t mean any…”
“No offense taken, lad,” Atlas said. He turned back toward his two visitors. “Now, back to this German Shepherd, this Iblis, as you call him, he was running full tilt, as if he were being chased by Anubis himself.”
“Was he being chased?” Sunny asked.
Atlas shook his great head. “Not that I saw.”
“But you’re sure he’s a military dog?” Yoda asked.
“Can’t hide that bearing, that training, but…” Atlas paused.
“What is it, Atlas?” Sunny prompted.
“Well, it’s this—I could tell he was military just by looking at him, the way he moved and all the mannerisms that we pick up in training, things that become part of us,” Atlas explained. “At the same time, however, I could tell he was panicked. I’m a scent hound by no means, but even I could smell the stink of fear. He was on the run, but not from anything we could ever see. In our training, all the cowards and gentle souls are weeded out early, they never make it to the field of battle. But this German Shepherd, this Iblis, he still carried the smells of war with him…and he was afraid.”
“What are you trying to say?” Sunny asked.
“For a dog to react that way, to run gripped by such fear as he was, after our training…it’s not natural,” Atlas said. “Whatever he experienced in war was so terrible that it broke through his training, and still haunts him here.”
“What could have possibly happened to Iblis that was so very bad?” Yoda mused.
Atlas gave the canine equivalent of a shrug. “War is hell.” Then the old Doberman frowned. “Why do you keep calling him Iblis?”
After a moment of confusion, Yoda said: “It’s his name.”
“That’s no kind of proper name for a military dog,” Atlas announced, “not even a Navy or Army dog. Name like Iblis, you might as well be named Rainbow Bright or Scooby Doo.”
The Death & Life of an American Dog Page 4