The Tsunami

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The Tsunami Page 19

by Marshall Miller


  “Don’t worry, Chief. I’ll make sure that any necessary notifications are made. And, no, Fuzz will not be running loose. When he goes with me, he’s family. You have my word he will not be dumped again.”

  Chief Croft looked at Fuzz, who looked back with a gaze that said “What’s next?”

  “Okay, Captain. Contrary to what you may think, I do not like to put dogs down. But I also cannot have the equivalent of a one hundred fifty pound ‘land shark’ running around, biting my people. I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into.”

  Abigail relaxed a bit, then smiled. “Chief, after dealing with Eaters and Ferals, Fuzz will be easy.”

  Chief Croft grunted. “I hope so. I’ll have Sgt. Martinez bring you his limited file, including his vet records. He has been kind of ‘off the grid’ because he was a drop off. He’s such a big, healthy-looking dog, I believed we could use him. Apparently I was wrong.”

  Abigail looked at Fuzz, who actually wagged his tail. “I think he has potential. We’ll get along just fine.”

  “Alright, Captain. You have a nice day.” He turned and headed back toward the kennels. Sgt. Martinez started to follow him.

  “Sergeant, one moment, please.”

  “Ma’am?”

  Abigail stepped up to her and offered her hand. “You just did us—Fuzz and me—a big favor by helping defuse that situation. Sometimes I kind of get tunnel vision, especially if I think I may have to take some action.”

  Sgt. Martinez shook her hand. She knew that this young lady would have not stood quietly and let the Chief euthanize Fuzz. Which probably meant the Chief would have been in the hospital and she would have been in confinement. But, she also seemed to have heart of gold when it came to canines. So, an expert in controlled violence Abigail might be, but a sociopath she was not.

  “I didn’t want to see Fuzz put down either, Ma’am. He has too big a heart to go like that. If you wait here, I’ll bring his stuff to you.”

  Sgt. Martinez headed toward the kennels. Abigail looked at Fuzz. “Whaddya say, big fella? Do you want to go home with me?”

  Fuzz thumped his tail once, then gave a small, low “woof”.

  “I’ll take that as a yes. Are you hungry?”

  Abigail began rummaging around the cloth grocery bag she was carrying. She quickly noticed that the quart of ice cream she had bought was beginning to get quite squishy. Although fall was setting in, it was still warm enough to melt ice cream, apparently. She pulled it out of the bag, noticing liquid drips of ice cream forming on the bottom of the carton. She looked at Fuzz.

  “This isn’t exactly dog food, but I hate to see it go to waste. Want to share?”

  Fuzz’s nose began to work as he realized the small container Abigail was holding just might have food. Abigail opened the quart of ice cream, scooped a small amount out with her fingers and stuffed it in her mouth.

  “Mm. I have a weakness for peppermint. Want some?”

  She held the carton down and Fuzz suddenly stuck his large tongue completely into the container. The cold did not seem to mind him as he proceeded to generally inhale the entire contents.

  “So much for sharing. Just remember who’s the boss, you big lug.”

  Fuzz dismantled the container and licked up every bit of ice cream. He was finishing licking everything for the second time when Sgt. Martinez returned. She broke into a large grin when she saw what Fuzz was eating.

  “Begging your pardon Ma’am, but I thought I had you pegged right as a soft touch.”

  Abigail chuckled. “Guilty as charged, Sergeant.” She noticed that in addition to a leash and a folder containing Fuzz’s records, Sgt. Martinez had a large clear plastic storage bag full of dog food, a large food dish, and a blanket.

  Abigail smiled at Sgt. Martinez. “Who’s the soft touch now?”

  “I feel a bit guilty that I wasn’t able to work with Fuzz, and get him into our system. I guess I just wasn’t good enough of a handler. I’m glad you came along, Captain.”

  Abigail asked, “May I ask your first name, Sergeant?”

  “Guadalupe, after the saint, Ma’am.”

  “I have been told by some new friends of mine that I am way too rough on myself. May I suggest, Guadalupe, that you and I are a lot alike. All we can do is our best. Sometimes our best is sufficient, sometimes it is not. That’s where friends come in. They can make the difference. Please consider yourself a friend of Fuzz and I.”

  “Thank you, Ma’am. I appreciate that.” Sgt. Martinez knelt down by Fuzz.

  “Can I hug you one last time Fuzz?” The huge dog answered with an equally huge slurp to the face.

  Both women burst out laughing. “Ew. Dog slime.” Guadalupe protested, then gave Fuzz a big hug anyway. “If you ever need a dog sitter, Captain, please give me a call.”

  She stood, then glanced at the kennels. “Duty calls. It was a pleasure to meet you, Captain Young.” She saluted, then turned around and headed for the kennels.

  Abigail scratched Fuzz’s ear. “You have a way with women, Fuzz. Just remember who you live with and check with me before a bunch of strange females start showing up in the backyard.”

  She did a load adjustment, tossing the demolished carton in the trash. She attached Fuzz’s leash, threw the blanket over her shoulder and put the food and dish in her grocery bag. “As my father used to say, we’re off to see the wizard.”

  She told Fuzz to heel, which he did at first. But his long, fast stride caused him to move forward as they walked. Abigail noticed Fuzz seemed to want to lead, search in front of her, as if looking for possible dangers. Finally, she decided to try something. First, she halted Fuzz. Then, she laid the leash across the great dog’s shoulders, looping it under his collar. He looked at as if to say, “What’s up, boss?”

  Abigail gave the command, “Scout, Fuzz,” in Romanian. He immediately began to walk ahead of her, zagging back and forth a bit, looking and smelling for possible threats while keeping track of Abigail’s location. Abigail’s mouth dropped open a bit in surprise. Her Uncle used to train K-9s in Romanian as it was not a well known language outside of that country. He also prefer to train his dogs in the ‘scout’ function, off-leash. He used his dogs aggressively, teaching them a certain level of independent decision-making and action under certain circumstances. He had also instructed a few K-9 trainers in his techniques. Did one of them survive in this area of Montana, training this large dog in Uncle Buck’s technique? Or had her Uncle somehow trained Fuzz over the last year or so?

  She stopped, calling Fuzz back to her. Abigail looked in the folder Sgt. Martinez had given her. As far as they could tell, Fuzz was a shepherd and great dane mix, about two years old, and in excellent shape. He had been well taken care of before being dumped on the kennel’s doorstep. Fuzz was around one hundred fifty pounds. His muzzle resembled a slightly shorter shepherd type, but his ears were a combination of the two breeds, the end flopping over a bit rather than having the wolf-like pointed appearance. All in all, Fuzz was a fine specimen. Chief Croft had found a large, wide collar for him, and there was base issued rabies tag attached.

  Fuzz looked up at Abigail and tilted his head as if to say, “Well?”

  Abigail smiled. “You are a handsome dog, but I think you know that. Just don’t let it go to your head.” She shut the folder and stowed it in her grocery bag. “Scout,” Abigail commanded once more in Romanian. Fuzz immediately went back to the slight zigzag pattern, glancing back once in a while to check Abigail’s position. Her home was pretty much in a straight line from the kennels, so Fuzz kept in front of Abigail with ease

  During the walk, a couple of dogs had barked from behind fences after getting a whiff of Fuzz. Fuzz had ignored them, other than a low frequency “woof” to let any animal in earshot that a large bad ass was passing through. About a half mile later, they arrived.

  Abigail had Fuzz heel as she went up to the front door. She set down her load and used her key to open the door. Before she could do anyt
hing, Fuzz pushed past Abigail into her side of the duplex.

  “Hey, I didn’t invite you in yet.” Then she realized what he was doing, without any prompting. Tail and head up, his shoulder fur a bit up also, Fuzz went from room to room, checking for any potential threats that may try to harm Abigail, his new human. He returned to the entrance area, wagged his tail, and sat down, gazing with affection at Abigail.

  “Thank you, Mr. Fuzz, for being concerned about my safety. Come on, let’s go to the kitchen.”

  Woman and dog were in the kitchen together as Abigail put her groceries away. She placed Fuzz’s dish on the floor, and put in some of the dry dog food from the provided plastic bag. She then filled a pot full of water and placed it next to the food. “Have some food, Fuzz.” He was soon chowing down.

  Abigail poured herself some lemonade and sat at her dining table facing the kitchen. She looked at the muscles under Fuzz’s fur and could see the power in the very large dog. Over three feet at the shoulder, he was pretty lean, and would probably gain a few pounds from regular feeding. He should still be able to carry a slight increase in weight with no effect on his capabilities.

  Abigail took his blanket and spread it by the sliding glass door that led to the fenced in backyard. The duplex had a large split back yard, the house sitting on a little under three quarters of an acre, most of it backyard. Fuzz finished eating, then found his blanket and laid down.

  Abigail began making herself dinner. Slowly, thanks to Aleks and Torbin, she was becoming a pretty good cook. Torbin especially had a flair, probably would have been an amateur chef in another life. When he made something, it looked like it stepped right out of a pre-strike culinary magazine, with perfect presentation. Abigail did not care that much about looks, she went for taste.

  She soon whipped up had a noodle dish, with some vegetables, fruit, and homemade bread. She placed it in on the dining table, Fuzz watching her. She smiled, then bent her head in prayer.

  “Thank you, Lord, for the bounty I am about to receive. And thank you especially for sending me my new friend, Fuzz T. Dog. I think he will be an excellent Servant of God with me. In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.” She raised her eyes and looked at Fuzz. He thumped his tail, then laid his head down, and closed his eyes. He was soon lightly snoring.

  Abigail ate her meal, reflecting on the events of the day in her mind. Fuzz was a well behaved dog, witnessed by the fact he did not beg for her food. He was a bit tired, as was she. The emotion of their meeting and his near death, had added some stress, which in itself can be tiring. Abigail enjoyed her meal, then took her dirty dishes to the sink and began washing them. She saw that Fuzz had woken, and was watching her at the sink. She smiled. “You like to watch women at domestic chores, don’t you, fella?” He gave her a doggie open mouth smile.

  She realized just how quickly they had bonded. You could tell when a dog picked you to be his human. They gave a certain look of devotion, of affection. And when you returned it, it blossomed into love and complete loyalty.

  Abigail finished her kitchen chores, and turned back to Fuzz. She walked over and sat cross legged next to him. He put his large head on her right thigh, and she began to scratch his ears. They sat that way for several minutes, regaling in each other’s company.

  “Want to go outside, big guy?” Fuzz perked up, raising his head from her lap. The sun had gone down, the beginning of twilight. They both stood up and Abigail opened the sliding door. She watched as Fuzz leapt out in the backyard and walked around the fence line, marking his new territory.

  Fuzz peeked into the fenced in yard of the other side of the duplex. The sliding door opened and she heard Aleks’ voice call out loudly, “Torbin! There is a large beast in Abigail’s backyard.” Abigail quickly stepped out to disabuse Aleks of her concern. As she stepped out, Fuzz rose up, placing his forepaws on the four foot fence separating the two yards.

  Torbin stepped out, exclaiming, “Shit! There is a beastie in her yard.” Fuzz began to growl a warning and Abigail yelled at him.

  “Fuzz—stop that! They are friends. Down.” Fuzz glanced sheepishly at his mistress and removed his paws from the fence.

  Abigail walked over to the fence line. “Sorry, Aleks and Torbin. I did not think you would see him yet.”

  Torbin asked, a bit worriedly, “Where in the holy hell did you get him? He looks like he could eat my head in one bite.”

  “I promise he won’t. Fuzz, come here.” The dog slowly walked to Abigail, never removing his gaze from Torbin. Abigail stood by the fence, scratching Fuzz’s ears. “He has a problem with men, a habit of which I think I can break him. But he is a ladies’ man, so Aleks, if you step over here, I will introduce him to you.”

  Aleks walked up to the fence and stood next to it. Fuzz saw her and began to work his nose to verify she was indeed a “she”. Then he pushed his nose up to the holes in the chain link fence. Aleks slowly reached through and rubbed his muzzle. He rose up, putting his forepaws back on the fence so he could extend himself upwards.

  “Oof. He is big!” Aleks exclaimed. She reached forward and began to scratch his chest. Fuzz opened his mouth in a doggy grin and let his tongue roll.

  “Will he be my friend too?” Torbin asked. Abigail walked up and took ahold of Fuzz’s collar.

  “Alright, Fuzz. Meet Torbin, my friend.” She pointed to Torbin, who cautiously moved forward, and began a light scratching of Fuzz’s chest. Fuzz began wagging his tail in a slow beat, glancing at Abigail with a “see, I can play nice” look.

  Torbin stopped scratching and pulled his hand back. “You definitely have a handful there. Think you can handle him?”

  Abigail smiled. “After dealing with Eaters, Feral humans, and certain former Marines, he is going to be easy.”

  “Ouch. I am wounded. Aleks, defend me.” Torbin feigned insult.

  “Why, husband, when it is the truth? Come back here, big beastie.” Fuzz went to the sound of her voice, then tried to sniff her stomach thru the fence. “Typical male. Goes for the genitals.”

  Abigail laughed. “Actually, he may sense you are pregnant.”

  Aleks was beginning to show. A complete examination and work up by the military hospital, assisted by Colonel Bardun and her expertise as an exobiologist, had determined that she had been exposed to some of the materials the Tschaaa had introduced to affect the reproductive system of human females. All done in order to modify the development and growth of human young. The amount of exposure appeared low, but the babies (male twins) were developing at a faster pace. Her due date was closer to seven or eight months rather than nine. Both of the twins seemed to be healthy in utero, but would assuredly be large babies. So Aleks, much to her chagrin, was already looking like she had swallowed a basketball. Because of this fast development—combined with the fact that hers was one of the first pregnancies affected—Aleks had been told to stop working the day before. She would only be allowed to go to work when General Reed called her in.

  Fuzz sniffed Aleks’ belly again. His tail wagged a couple of times, then she looked at Abigail. “Yes, big fella, she is going to have puppies—actually babies—but puppies to you.”

  Aleks laughed. “So, beastie, will you protect me like you will your new owner?” The oversized canine ‘woofed’, then licked Aleks. She laughed. “I will take that as a yes.”

  The three Humans talked for few minutes as Fuzz sat and watched them. Abigail was surprised how calm and patient he was, a complete switch from earlier in the day.

  “Well, time for me to go in and make sure big fella here is settled in. I have tomorrow off, so I plan on buying a few dog things for Fuzz.”

  “Mind if I go along, Abigail?” Aleks asked. “I am already getting cabin fever from not being able to go to work.”

  “That, wife, is for you own good,” Torbin interjected. “No one wants you suddenly fainting because our kids are developing so fast. I want you safe and comfortable.”

  Aleks sighed. “Yes, husband. But will your hig
hness allow me to shop with Abigail? Or do you want to keep me barefoot and pregnant at home, doing nothing but stuffing my face?”

  “Hmm, barefoot and pregnant—subservient—not a bad idea…ow.”

  Torbin kept underestimating the pain a Russian trained spy could inflict on an unsuspecting, albeit deserving, man.

  A couple of hours later, after she listened to some soft hits radio and read the local newspaper, Abigail prepared for bed. She made sure Fuzz had water in a pan near his blanket. She planned on buying him a proper bed and water pan tomorrow. She had more money than she knew what to do with, General Reed having arranged a salary commensurate to her rank, and Deseret sending her “expense money” for use on incidentals involved with being the Official Representative to the U.S.A. Now, she had something, and someone, to spend her money on. It felt good.

  Abigail brushed her teeth, put on some pajamas she had bought, and said a short prayer. She thanked God again for having Fuzz find her. This had been a good day.

  She laid down, put her head on her pillow, and immediately began to doze off. She was awakened suddenly by a heavy body landing on her bed. She started to react in a defensive mode, then realized it was Fuzz. He placed his large head on her thigh, his tail making a single ‘thump’ on the bed.

  Abigail chuckled. “Well, Aleks keeps mentioning its okay to have a male in your bed if you love him. I wonder if she would count you as fulfilling that position.” Abigail scratched his ears. Fuzz groaned in appreciation. She smiled and laid her head back on the pillow. In over six years, she had never felt so safe. Or loved. Both woman and dog were fast asleep in seconds.

  CHAPTER 6

 

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