I immediately began thinking and planning for an opportunity to get out of the car, make my escape and return to my human pack. There was a wire partition separating me from the front seat. I thought to myself and expanded my chest, “I cannot jump in the front seat, but as soon as she opens the back door, I will jump out and start running very fast. I know that I am a very fast runner and the female will not catch me. I know that I can do this because I am not only fast, I am smart and clever. Also, my trainer and masters have told me this since I was a young puppy; I know that I am special. My family would not tell me this if it were not so.”
“Dillon you are so smart and such a fast runner,” my masters have always said this to me. They always encourage me and this gives me confidence in myself and my abilities. When they tell me how clever I am, they encourage me in my feats and then give me special treats as a reward.
I am nice and polite to everyone, but I absolutely refuse to do tricks like rolling over, chasing a ball, or retrieving objects. I think that my being nice sometimes is taken as a weakness, whereby I can be taken advantage of, just as the lady in blue has duped me. I will not be nice to her again, and I will escape first chance I get.
The lady calls someone on her cell phone and says, “This is Su Chi Ku, I will be there in a few minutes, I am only a block away.”
I, Dillon, feel the car is slowing down, and it has stopped. I know that a door will open soon.
I see Su Chi Ku open her door, but I wait patiently as she swiftly closes her door behind her and slowly approaches the back door. She opens the door only a little and when she does I crash through with as much speed and force as I can muster. Swiftly reaching down she grabs my harness handle jerking me half around, but I fearlessly struggle with her and free myself.
I quickly reflect on words I have heard before “On the Road Again” (a song written and sung by Willie Nelson, 1980)! I am on the sidewalk stretching out and running as fast as I can. I think, “I probably look like Seabiscuit running down the sidewalk, small, fast and low to the ground. I watched an exciting animal movie with Francis and Keith and there was a horse that ran fast and his name was Seabiscuit. I like that movie.”
Seabiscuit is a 2003 American biographical sport drama film based on the best-selling non-fiction book Seabiscuit: An American Legend by Laura Hillenbrand. The film is loosely based on the life and racing career of Seabiscuit, an undersized and overlooked thoroughbred race horse, whose unexpected successes made him a hugely popular media sensation in the United States during the Great Depression. (Internet Sources)
It is raining and I hate getting wet and dirty. I tell myself, “Run Dillon, run as fast as you can. Create distance between yourself and your female captor.” I turn a corner (my body leaning into the turn, moving ever faster) and move farther from the lady in blue. I know that I have been gone from Francis and Keith for minutes that seem like hours. I know my family needs me.
It is beginning to rain harder and harder and there is lightning and thunder and this scares me as I flinch and tremble with fear. I am breathing hard and running a little slower trying to catch my breath. I think again, “Time is passing fast much too fast. I have been away from home only for a few minutes, but it seems an eternity.”
I question myself as to the direction home is and try to get my bearings. I instinctively know directions and these senses will help get me to my masters, my friends. Something in my mind causes me to briefly hesitate, literally stop in my tracks and re-consider my current location. I see a familiar site, a water tower above the tree line and a yellow marking on the street is similar to one in front of my apartment building. I sniff, but detect no familiar smells.
My acute mental instincts take over as I point my wet head and nose in a westerly direction. Somehow, I realize that I am near my pack, my family. I know instinctively that I am not far from the park and our apartment building. Francis and Keith are in the direction that I am going.
I continue pointing my nose westerly and start to run again, but I slip on the pavement and roll onto my right side as thunder and lightning occur in rapid succession. I get back on my feet and move ahead several feet then slowly raise myself into even more of an erect position. Thunder and lightning occur again; my halter handle collapses on my shoulders as I lower myself into a crawl. Crawling low to the ground, I reach a big blue mailbox and creep under it for shelter and safety.
Soaking wet and trembling with fear, I rest for a few seconds as the rain, lightning, and thunder diminish; the sun is not shining yet. I scuttle from under the mailbox leaving my safe haven behind. I start running again toward my masters and home. I run as fast as my energy will allow. I think quickly to myself, “I am tired, but I must keep moving, I am needed by Keith and Francis, time is passing fast, much too fast. Since there is no sun I must rely on my instincts to get back to my family.”
I begin to run as fast as I can from the girl in blue, the law, my captor. My heart is pounding hard and I am breathing with my tongue hanging out of my open mouth. I have a long tongue and accidentally bite it tasting blood. I am in my search and find mode as I pant and think to myself, “I am coming guys, fellas, I am on my way; I am coming to help you, both of you.” I see a familiar building and small humans walking on the sidewalk each carrying a harness or backpack on their back (I know backpacks, because Francis has a dark blue and black one that he carries to the park with him).
Chapter 28
Dillon Arrives After Ambush
The pack of small humans are heading westward, like me. I decide to join their group; I will stay with them when they cross the street. I know that the fast moving cars can kill.
The pack is walking toward a street crossing. I look across the street and see a building; I recognize this place and know I must have seen the small humans before. I know that the students (Francis has told me that the young humans with back packs are called students) go into that building each morning. They are saying, “The school bell will be ringing soon.” The students appear to be happy; their words tell me that the building is a school.
My mind is busy thinking, “If these friends like school, I know that I would like going to school. I know this because I attended therapy dog school, and I graduated. I have a license and I know that I am certified. My masters talk about my being certified, this must be good because they look at me and smile when they say school. You learn new things at school, and I like that.”
As the young humans get to a street crossing I stay with their pack and I sit waiting with them as a lady holding a sign motions with her sign and her hands for cars to stop, and then she motions with her hands for us to come to her and we cross the street safely. After we are on the other sidewalk the lady lowers the sign and with her hands she motions the cars to get moving again, and then she follows us and stands next to us on the sidewalk.
The cars started moving only after the patrol lady was safely out of their path and on the sidewalk near us. This process is a little slow, but a good way to cross the street safely. My thoughts wander, “I do not want to be run over by a car. I have witnessed animals run over by cars and the sight and sounds make me sad.”
I yawn and realize, “I am getting tired.”
My pack of students are on the sidewalk in front of the school; I decide to briefly rest on my haunches and allow the students to fawn over me; they rub my fur and ears very lightly. I find it interesting that none of the kids or the lady grab at my harness handle. One blond haired little girl says for all to hear, “He is a therapy dog,” and she blushes bashfully. I find it amazing that such a small person knows my job and training, and I am happy that she shared her knowledge with the others.
The kids want to continue petting me, but I must leave and continue searching for my home. I ponder, “Maybe some other time I can visit with them; I like company and friends.” I start running again as they call to me, “Please stay, do not go, we love you.” I stop, look back at them and woof three times very loudly (meaning goodbye).<
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I turn away from the children and begin running faster and faster to another crossing that has a light that changes colors; I have heard Francis call this a traffic light. I run even faster, and as I get more tired I slow down and look over my shoulder. I expect to see the lady in blue at any moment, but I do not see her or her car.
Then suddenly I mentally shout, “There she is Su Chi Ku in the same car. She is following me!” The car window is down and her arm and hand are extended from it while she is shouting, “Dillon and something else, but I cannot understand the words.” I think, “That lady is still after me; she is not going to give up until I am in the back of her car again.”
I can still hear her calling my name over and over as I continue running and take a shortcut through someone’s front yard. I pass an elderly human who is cutting lilacs and placing them in a basket. She looks up in alarm, but then smiles as I speedily run past her. I slow down enough to ensure that I do not knock her down.
I run between houses and to the back of a yard, oops there is a fence. I squeeze through the wooden gate which has been left slightly ajar. After I exit the yard I stop and walk back to peer inside the gate opening. I see the same elderly lady looking at me with a smile on her face. I smile back at her and woof loudly three times.
“That was close,” I think and begin to run through yards as fast as I can. I run about two blocks weaving around trees and bushes. I am moving strictly on instinct. I slow to a walk so that I can catch my breath. I pant and feel pain in my tongue where I bit it earlier. I raise my head and see pigeons take flight. I know them; they fly in all directions as they drop feathers and poop everywhere.
From my position in the street, I see Francis throw his cane really hard with that swift underhand motion of his. The cane flies past Keith over a baby carriage and lady heading toward the stopped bus. I see a gun in Francis’ extended hand and he fires it quickly bang, bang; the gun jumps in his hand. He is walking toward the street. Almost simultaneously, I hear and see a man in blue shouting while he extends his right arm; he is holding a gun and it is pointed at Francis, but thankfully I hear no bang sounds from his gun.
I, Dillon, hear more bang sounds and I think, “That is more gun fire. I know this sound. I lived in the mountains and people would hunt animals with guns. Also, my humans have taken me where they practice shooting guns, and that is the sound that the guns make when they fire them. I have heard my masters talk about guns, and I know that they can hurt, but I have heard my pack say that guns can stop bad people from hurting other humans.”
I surmise that I have only been away from my home for a short time. I pause and look around; I see that the bus is still in front of the park that Francis and I visit daily. There are ladies out in the middle of the street; one of them has a baby carriage, the other a guitar.
I listen intently trying to determine where the other gunshots are coming from. I have heard gunshots; I am afraid, but continue looking around and I see people running while some are falling to the ground. Other humans are running over to the ones on the ground and bravely, in what I recognize to be friendship and caring, trying to help them up. Many humans are running away from the area. There are no more gunshots.
Within split seconds, I see Keith falling to the pavement as Francis is walking and stepping clumsily backward toward the man holding the gun. Just as suddenly and unexpected I see Francis step forward his gun jumping in his hand and I hear a bang, and then bang again, and he falls to the pavement near Keith; Francis then rolls his body on top of Keith. I realize that they are both injured and in pain. I see what I know is blood on Keith’s leg and on the pavement next to him. There is a lot of blood; it is running into the drain at the curb. I know this is dangerous and that seeing blood is not good.
I think to myself, “Something is terribly wrong, terribly wrong. What can I do?” I begin to move cautiously toward my masters. I see that they are touching, feeling, and grabbing at each other, all the while excitedly shouting to each other.
I am almost with them as I realize that I am crouching meekly yelping like a helpless puppy; I am so afraid for my friends. I stand more erect find my adult voice and woof several times letting them know I am back to help them. Just a short run and I will be next to them and with them.
I question myself, “What am I seeing?” What have I seen?” I remember seeing things occurring almost simultaneously. Francis threw his cane and fired his gun, I remember this. I recall seeing a lady with a guitar on her shoulder; I recognized her from the park, and she had a gun and was firing it. Just as she fired a shot she was hit very hard in the chest by Francis’ cane; then he shot her in the chest. Although hurt, she fired another shot and it hit the lady with the baby carriage. I know one shot hit the lady by the baby carriage, because she staggered and fell rolling to the pavement the carriage rolled over with her. The guitar lady walked and stumbled stepping backwards and eventually she fell onto the pavement.
Francis got up and staggered forward shooting the lady next to the overturned baby carriage in the chest and shoulder, then again in her face from closer range. I did not see the lady with the baby buggy do anything wrong. I do not understand Francis shooting her with his gun, but he must have had a good reason.
I now hear the guitar lady’s screams, her screams come from under the moving bus. The bus has rolled over her and keeps moving forward disappearing down the street. I cannot help the lady near the guitar, it is too late. I know that she is dead; her legs stopped shaking and are no longer moving.
I watch as Francis rolls his body next to Keith. I slowly walk forward and pass very near my masters, but I do not stop to help them, but instead I walk very fast to the carriage to help the baby.
Sniffing and pawing at the blankets in the overturned baby carriage I find the small baby. I think, “The baby is not moving, the baby is dead.” I become emotional and whimper. I continue to sniff and nudge the baby then realize that it is not a human baby, it is a doll. I have seen little girl humans in the park playing with dolls.
I am very happy that a baby is not dead; I pant and smile then move the blanket around some more and smell gun oil. I root around a little more and find a gun. I bark for everyone to hear, I want to let them know that there is no baby, it is just a doll.
I think about the human baby, “Where is the baby, I can smell baby scent in the blankets and all around the baby carriage?” I smell the dead mother’s clothing and know that there is a baby somewhere. I smell the ladies hands and smell the gun oil on them. I sense that I am missing something important, but I cannot understand what that something could be.
Francis is hurt and cannot get to his feet. I look in the direction of the park and walk over to the lady who dropped her guitar; Francis’ cane is lying on the street next to her. The bus is gone; I saw it drive over this lady. I look down the street and see the bus slowly getting smaller.
Near my feet I see the cane; I sniff it and know that it is the one that belongs to Francis, the one he threw. I bare my teeth smiling (thinking of Francis). I know this cane it is too thick and heavy for me to carry. With my teeth I lift the cane by the leather string and drag it onto the street. I look around once more assessing the whole area and people. I am sure most witnesses and victims will recount this incident differently, but I know my account is the most accurate.
Dragging the cane I walk over to the waiting arms of Francis and lay his cane next to him. Francis asks, “Will wonders never cease?” While patting me on my head, I hear Francis say “Thank you Dillon.” I hear more sirens and see flashing blue and red lights everywhere; I note that Keith’s leg is bleeding a lot and that he has fainted, or is he asleep?
I step back when I hear Francis shout very loudly, “EMT, EMT, EMT, we need help, my Grandson needs help.” I see the men in blue and the SWAT team members that were in our apartment. They have their weapons in hand and are holding them ready to shoot if necessary.
Several men kneel and gently push me aside and begin
to tend to Keith and Francis. People jump out of vehicles and move into action giving my masters help.
I know about shots and they can hurt, but I also know that people in ambulances can make you well. I watch as Keith and Francis are being moved into a big truck.
I hear one man in white clothes shout, “This guy has lost a lot of blood we need a plasma IV now.” “IV is in place,” another man says. “We cannot stop this bleeding; let’s get a tourniquet around his leg and get him on a gurney. We need to get him to the Emergency Room stat,” the first EMT says.
The man helping Keith says, “His pressure is not good. The bleeding has slowed a little but will not stop completely. Something is wrong. His blood is not clotting. I have lost him he is gone.” The man keeps pushing on Keith’s chest and shouts, “There he is; I have him back. Hurry, let’s get these guys in the ambulance.”
I am so scared I am shaking all over. Somewhere behind me I hear and see a news vehicle and a familiar voice and face, News Reporter, Rock Savage. I have seen his face on our box that has moving pictures in it.
One of the EMTs in the ambulance says, “The older one is not mortally wounded.” The other man in white continues to bark orders as they settle Francis and Keith in the ambulance. I drop the cane on the street and jump in the ambulance with my masters, but the EMT boots me out the door just as the vehicle starts moving forward. The man shouts “Go, go, and again go, go.” He is shouting to a man in the front of the truck.
As the ambulance doors begin to close I hear Francis shout, “Go home Dillon.” I once more nonchalantly ease over to Francis’s cane. Once again I smell the wooden cane and smell Francis and I hear Francis say, “Go home boy.”
I look towards the back of the departing ambulance and where Francis had been. I reach down and gently take hold of the leather string with my teeth and drag the heavy iron wood cane. I drag the cane into the lobby of our apartment building and hide under the stairs. I walk pass Ms. Seemore and the cleaning lady, but they do not see me they were looking out at the street. After I start climbing the stairs I hear and sense someone behind me. When I turn I see Ms. Seemore climbing the stairs behind me. She follows me and after I scratch across our door she knows to use her pass key and let me in. I want to go into my home.
Signal to Murder Page 16