Baron had not taken more than a few steps toward Sally before Anila slammed into him. He had forgotten her tremendous speed. She came in low, swooping under, grabbing his opposite front paw, and yanking back. The big German Shepherd flipped over, striking the ground so hard every particle of air was crushed from his lungs.
Baron gasped for breath and tried to struggle up, but Anila fastened her powerful jaws around his head and torqued his neck. He whipped his body in the direction of the force, thrashing onto his other side to keep his vertebrae from snapping. Doing so saved his neck, but it exposed his belly to attack. Anila’s fangs opened a long gash in his stomach. Fortunately, he had thrown himself back just in time to avoid the full brunt of it, so while the wound bled profusely, Anila had not penetrated deeply. She came in for another attack, this time for the throat, but Baron lunged and struck her with the full weight of his densely muscled body.
Sally’s instinctive reaction did not make Purdil pause for even a moment. Fighting was not part of Sally’s life, but it was a daily, sometimes hourly occurrence in Purdil’s world, if not with village canines reluctant to accept the Dog at the Well, then with rival packs, or amongst his own pack-mates for training or discipline.
He struck Sally quickly and viciously, fastening his teeth onto the tendons of her right foreleg. He bit and ripped and down she fell to the ground, thrashing desperately but unable to get up because of the damage to her muscle.
“Baron,” she whimpered, trying to rise but failing.
Purdil paused at her cry, looking at the Collie, then glancing from her to Iblis. She was not trying to attack him or even fend him off, Purdil realized, but was trying to reach Iblis. She cared more for Iblis than she did herself. Purdil looked back to the Collie. All he needed to do now was sink his fangs into her exposed throat and rip it out. But Anila had not specifically ordered him to kill the escort dog, just to keep it out of the fight.
The Collie was going nowhere.
“Help him,” Sally whimpered. “Please.”
Purdil looked back to the battle between Anila and Iblis.
“Please!”
Purdil moved closer, to better see the end of the quest.
Baron’s action against Anila had sent her flying, landing upon some sharp rocks at the edge of the peninsula, but she was back on her paws in an instant. Before she could attack Baron, he was at her again, looking for an opening for fang or claw.
Blood flowed from Baron’s belly, mixing with the water now surging among the rocks at the edge of the peninsula. Pushed up by the rising tide, the water level was inches away. Not only was Baron bleeding from the wound given him by Anila, but some of his other scars, relics of the fire, had opened, and blood trickled down his sides, streaking his fur with crimson stripes.
“You fight from fear and cowardice,” Anila accused. “Accept your fate, Iblis, bow before the Dog at the Well. Your death is inevitable, so stop fighting, Iblis.”
“My name is Baron!”
Baron knew he could not keep this up much longer. He felt his strength ebbing. Each breath was fire, every move agony. Anila was right. He would not survive, but giving up would betray everything he believed in, everything he fought for. As long as he lived, there was yet hope, something to strive for.
Besides, surrender would not save Sally. She was not dead, for he had seen her trying to stand after Purdil moved away. The longer he fought Anila, the better chance she had of getting away, or at least holding on till the others arrived. He hoped they would arrive soon. That hope was worth fighting for.
Anila reared and grabbed Baron by the neck. He staggered at the assault, but, at the same moment, one of Anila’s legs slipped upon a seaweed-encrusted rock the rising tide had made slimy. The two dogs toppled, Baron below and Anila above, and they struggled in a mutual death-grip between the rocks and the sea.
Purdil moved closer. If Iblis had not pulled Anila from that burning building, he reflected, he would not now be engaged in a losing battle. Certainly, Anila would not have survived without the intervention of Iblis, for she could not have saved herself through her own efforts, and no member of her pack was going to risk his own life to keep her from burning, especially not Abasi, who would have taken over the pack.
If Anila had died, Iblis would have gone home, they would never have left Afghanistan on this crazy quest, and Zain would still be alive. But for how long, Purdil thought with a sigh? Sooner or later, Abasi would have given Zain the chastisement he had always been restrained from giving by Anila, and Zain would have been just as dead as he was now.
As dead as I will be when Anila finishes Iblis, and Abasi joins us, Purdil realized. As dead as Zain. As dead as Iblis. As dead as the Collie will be. He uttered a sharp whimper. As dead as Yoda is.
Hearing a whimper so close, Anila shifted her gaze, saw Purdil standing near. Iblis had her and she had Iblis, and though there was only one way this battle could end, with Iblis leaking so much blood and his strength noticeably ebbing, she yearned for a quick victory. In a dog-on-dog fight where one’s honor was at stake, there was not supposed to be any intervention by others. The struggle was not just for the restoration of honor. It was also a statement of faith, a submission to the power of the Dog at the Well. To ask for help was to abandon the quest for honor entirely.
Anila asked for help. She did not plead with words, for she dared not loose the grip she had on Iblis, but with frantic eyes and desperate expression.
Purdil knew what Anila wanted him to do. She was his pack leader, his alpha, and no words were necessary. Iblis could not last much longer, but Anila wanted it to end now, wanted to stand over Iblis’ inert body with his bloody collar in her teeth, the trophy that would demonstrate to the dogs of Afghanistan the suzerainty of the Dog at the Well over the false spirit guides.
A movement at the corner of Purdil’s vision caused him to turn eastward. Coming fast down the road was a small black blur.
Anila growled to get Purdil’s attention back where it belonged. She saw him snap his head around, saw the look of resolve on his face, and smiled as he surged into the fray. He would be a witness to her ultimate loss of honor once he killed Iblis for her, but once he himself was dead, no one would ever know.
Purdil charged into the midst of the battle.
Sally, up at last and limping forward, screamed as Purdil rushed in between the two dogs. Baron was on his back, and with the grip he had on Anila there was no way he could protect himself, could stop Purdil from ripping into his throat.
Anila’s joy turned to terror as she realized Purdil did not have Iblis’ throat between his jaws but her own. The weight of the heavy Gull Dong forced her to let go of Iblis. The only thing that kept her from toppling into the dark, deep waters of the bay was Iblis’ own death-grip on her.
Baron let go.
Anila, her throat secure in Purdil’s grip, felt herself flying, propelled by momentum. Sky and rock and sea whirled in her vision as they tumbled. They splashed into the bay. She expected Purdil to let go as soon as they entered the water. Not being a good swimmer, he could only hope to save himself by releasing her and paddling back to the rocks. But Purdil did not let go, did not make any effort to fight against the pull of the deep. Anila struggled, but could not dislodge the heavy dog at her throat or fight her way upward.
Purdil held tight, resisting Anila’s struggles. The water was dark and very cold. He closed his eyes, let himself give in to the embrace of the sea. In his final moments, he thought about the black dog’s words, wondered if there was a Rainbow Bridge, if Zain waited on the other side. He hoped so.
And he hoped Anubis would conduct him across.
Sally reached Baron as he stood upon the rocks looking into the black water.
“Baron, are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” He collapsed back onto his haunches. “Mostly.”
“Why did he do it?” Sally asked.
Baron shook his head, then looked at the Collie, saw how badly she was li
mping. “Are you okay?”
She nodded. “I’ll not be running any races for a few days.” She joined Baron in looking at the water. The ripples caused by Anila and Purdil were flattening. “He could have killed me, and he just walked away. I don’t understand.”
“We’ll probably never understand,” he said. “I don’t know if he did himself. But I think maybe he listened to what Levi told him about his friend.”
“Do you think she…” Sally shuddered at the thought of the beautiful but evil Afghan Hound.
“She’s been under too long,” Baron said. “Purdil had her in a grip no dog could escape, not even her. We’ve seen the last of her.”
“Look!” Sally gasped, gesturing with her muzzle.
Baron saw the pale still form of Purdil rise into view, floating just beneath the surface. Going to the water’s edge, he waded out, grasped the Gull Dong’s foreleg gently but securely, and pulled him ashore. The salt water caused Baron’s wounds to burn, but he felt nothing. Though weak from battle and loss of blood, Baron dragged the motionless dog onto the peninsula.
Baron collapsed just as Yoda skidded to a stop. Ignoring Sally and Baron, the Pomeranian ran to Purdil and placed his chin upon the dog’s unmoving chest.
“He saved Baron,” Sally whispered. “I thought he was going to kill Baron, but he attacked Anila. They both went in the bay.”
“She’s still there,” Baron murmured.
Yoda did not look at Baron or Sally, did not act as if he had heard anything said. Nor did he react to the arrival of Levi, Sunny and Gibbs. He saw only a dog who under different circumstances might have been his friend, someone who had risen above a lifetime of suffering and violence to prove himself a pup of First Dog and Anubis, who had traded his life for that of a former enemy.
“No!” Yoda yelled, his cry shattering the gray silence of the peninsula. “No!”
“You have to let go, Yoda,” Sally said, automatically moving into her role as a counselor of grief and loss. She limped across and leaned comfortingly against him. “He died a hero. You have to remember that about him, and forgive the rest.”
“No!” Yoda pushed her away. “This can’t happen! It isn’t fair!”
“Yoda…” Levi said, now that he had caught his breath.
“He wasn’t a bad dog, not in his heart,” Yoda protested. “He did not deserve this! If it weren’t for Purdil, I’d be dead.”
“I owe him my life too,” Baron said.
“Wake up, Purdil!” Yoda yelled, his belligerent foxy face up against the Gull Dong’s blocky head. “You don’t get away from me that easily! I haven’t told you the last joke you’re going to hear. Open those eyes! Do what I tell you!”
“Yoda, it’s too late,” Sunny said. “He’s gone.”
“Wake up, soldier!”
Yoda barked as he had never barked before, a cannonade of barks, a fusillade of sound that made the other dogs wince and bury their heads in their paws. The fury of his barking echoed off the rocks and boomed over the unruffled waters of the bay like bombs.
Purdil vomited quarts of seawater and half opened his eyes.
“Yoda,” Purdil whispered.
Exhausted, Yoda fell across the weakly stirring form.
“I don’t believe it,” Levi murmured, shaking his head.
“It’s impossible,” Sunny breathed
“Rule Forty-three, Miss Sunny,” Gibbs said laconically. “Never underestimate a Pomeranian.”
“You do make this up as you go along!” Sunny gasped.
Gibbs winked.
Epilogue
“Officially there are only two options for Purdil,” Captain Rex said. “I can send him to a limited term shelter outside the county, or I can turn him over to the dogs at ICE, and they’ll make the shelter transfer when they’ve finished with him.”
“That’s not fair,” Yoda protested. “I’d say he’s proven he can be rehabilitated. If he hadn’t helped me, at great danger to his own life, Levi would never have found me in time.”
“I’m sorry, Yoda,” Captain Rex said. “I truly am. But there are pack leaders at the highest level involved in his.”
“Captain Rex, surely there is another option open to you,” Levi said. “After all, Purdil, like Zain, was taken from his village against his will and forced to run with Anila’s pack.”
“It’s all right, Levi,” Purdil said. “I’ve had time to think…”
Yoda motioned Purdil to silence.
“That’s probably true, Levi,” Captain Rex admitted.
“He played no role in Yoda’s capture, and though he did act as a guard, it was under duress, and it was mostly through his actions that the captivity came to an end without loss of life,” Levi argued.
The old German Shepherd nodded, making no reply.
Encouraged, Levi continued: “He did attack Sally, but it was, as it turned out, only a superficial wound. He could have taken her life, but he made a conscious decision not to. In fact, the only dog he attacked with intent to do serious harm was Anila, who herself had already been declared a rogue and outlaw, and that was an act of self-sacrifice to save Baron’s life.”
“So…” Captain Rex paused and sighed deeply. “So, you’re claiming he was a victim of this outlaw pack, was forced to do what he did, and committed no serious crimes in Chula Vista.”
“Precisely, Captain,” Levi responded.
“And don’t forget that Anubis sent him back,” Yoda chimed in. “That means it’s not his time to go.”
“Well, I don’t know about that, Yoda, I don’t think anybody really does,” Captain Rex said. He looked at Purdil, then to Levi. “But your argument is a good one, and, as you said, he did save two lives, which is a good thing.” He glanced at Yoda. “I think.”
“What about it then, Captain Rex?” Levi asked.
“All right,” the police dog agreed. “We’ll do it your way.”
Purdil collapsed to the ground with relief.
Yoda cheered.
The other animals gathered at the big house on Fifth Avenue smiled with relief at the decision, even Officers Antony and Arnold, who had accompanied the Captain to escort the prisoner back to the station pending transport. Gibbs, Sally and Baron were also pleased Levi had prevailed upon the Captain to seek another option, as were Flashman and Atlas, though they still chafed at being left out of the action earlier that morning.
“I am releasing Purdil into your custody, Levi,” Captain Rex said. “Even though this can’t be an official action on my part, I’ll stand by the decision.”
“Captain, you won’t get into trouble over it, will you?” Sunny asked.
“If I do, I do,” Captain Rex replied. “But I don’t think I will. If anyone goes against it, I’ll use Levi’s arguments, and, if that fails, I will just have Yoda bark them into submission.”
Laughter rang through the house.
“Seriously, though, once it’s done, it’s done,” he continued. “I don’t know many dogs who’ll want to go against it once they find out Levi is involved.” He looked to his officers. “Come on, boys, let’s head back to the barn.”
“We should be going too,” Atlas said, and Gibbs, Flashman and Sally followed him out.
Sally paused at the door. “I’ll visit you soon, Baron.”
“Thank you, Miss Sally,” he replied. “I’d like that.”
As the three police dogs headed out, the Captain turned and said: “Find him a good home, Levi.”
“Will do, Captain Rex.”
“What did the Captain mean by that?” Purdil asked.
“What do you mean, what did he mean?” Yoda asked. “He wants us to find you a nice house to live in. Don’t you worry about that, though. We have contacts all over. Finding good homes for good dogs is a specialty of ours.”
“In a house?” Purdil asked. “With a companion?”
“Yes, with a companion,” Sunny snapped. “And you make sure you behave yourself.”
“Yes, Miss Sun
ny,” Purdil replied contritely.
“I’m glad Miss Sally said she would visit me,” Baron said. “I have no idea where that will be. I mean, I remember a little bit of running away, but it’s all too vague. I don’t know where home is.”
“Dogs are such silly creatures,” Little Kitty murmured from her perch atop the couch.
“Little Kitty,” Kim asked, “is there something you’ve forgotten to tell everyone?”
“No, I’m pretty sure I…” The Calico paused, chuckled self-consciously, and let her eyes roll up. “Well, maybe I did.”
“What do you want to tell us, Little Kitty?” Levi asked.
“I told you about Baron running away from the Banfield Pet Hospital, right?” Little Kitty said.
“Right,” Levi agreed.
“Well, in addition to the notice about him being lost,” Little Kitty continued, “they also listed the name and address of his companion.”
Less than three hours later, Baron slowly walked up to a house in the Castle Park area of Chula Vista and scratched on the front door. The door opened, a companion came out, and immediately fell to his knees hugging Baron. They went inside.
“I’ve never seen a companion actually hug a dog,” Purdil said.
“You’d better get used to it,” Yoda advised. “We only put pets into homes where they will be loved and valued.”
“It will take some getting used to,” Purdil admitted. “But I think I will like it.”
Later, as they returned home, Yoda broke from their usual pack formation and walked beside Purdil.
“Purdil, can I ask you a question?”
“Anything, Yoda.”
“When you were…” He paused, trying to find a way to ask his question delicately. He eventually gave up, deciding there was just no delicate way to put it. “Purdil, when you were dead, what was it like? What did you see?”
The Death & Life of an American Dog Page 21