by David Kersey
CHAPTER THIRTY THREE
Golden Retrievers are rarely alphas, whether male or female. Yet we can take on a personae, like Johnny Carson made a living doing, as well as most of the other late night hosts who weren’t ever in their wildest dreams an alpha. We can be what the situation requires. It’s a gift. I would much rather be this way than a full blown alpha. It gives me flexibility. Yet if I have to defend my ground I will and probably lose. I’m a giver, so capitulation is in my vocabulary. I knew the headlights in the drive would soon determine if I was going to defend or drop on my back. If it came down to defending Cassie, or John, it would be fatal for one of the combatants. Likely it would be me. No, it would be me. This was a military dog. But I’d die trying.
To be honest, I was apprehensive, no, make that scared, when Guido hit the pavement. He saw me and then froze. Oh my, I could smell him as his endorphins rose above his skin. He stood in place and waited for me to either run or make a show of myself. I made it a point to not tuck my tail but that was a struggle. I decided to approach him and see what happened. That was a good move. He stank less and he didn’t show me his teeth. We did the usual 720 degrees of sniffing, and then decided to fight, playfully of course.
Marlene said she wouldn’t be able to exercise him in the dark and that no leash was sent in the cage. Typical, she thought. “Can I use Buck’s leash tomorrow morning?”
“Of course. I suggest we let Guido use Buck’s kennel for tonight, and Buck can stay in the basement with you. Once I’m convinced he can behave himself we might change that. He is house broken, isn’t he?”
“Yes, he stays in his handler’s quarters. Not a problem.”
“Hello, Guido.” His ears pointed straight up and forward and his head cocked to one side. “My name is Buck.” Guido made a slight growling sound, the type of growl that let me know that he was interested and curious. That was a good beginning. But then Cassie appeared on the porch just above the steps. She had one paw raised which was an invitation of friendship. Guido froze again and stared which again made me nervous. He then turned to me, looked me straight in the eye, then bowed down with his rump in the air, an invitation to continue wrestling. So we continued, but then this big, strong, strapping Army hero did the unbelievable. He laid on his back with paws in the air, the sure sign that he liked me and was offering his friendship.
Marlene and John coaxed Guido into my kennel. After John latched the door, he went inside and reappeared with a pitcher of water and filled my bowl, then laid some treats in my food bowl. Guido paid no attention, he was extremely busy sniffing my living quarters. John said it was late and that he had to rise early so that he was going to retire. Cassie and I went downstairs to spend the night with Marlene, who I had quit calling Miss Kibble even though I was still supposedly on a covert mission. I was surprised that Marlene made no effort to give John a goodnight hug. I wondered if she was upset about something, or perhaps conflicted like she was at the evening of the opera. Hey, I am just a dog, I don’t know what drunk is, ok?
John locked the door of his second floor bedroom and retrieved a laptop from the armoire. He googled Adnan Phalah and found three hyperlinks which when opened revealed that Adnan was indeed a very bad boy. He was indicted in 2010 for providing material support to a terrorist organization, conspiracy to use weapons of mass destruction, and conspiracy to destroy property of the United States. He had received military training from a terrorist organization in Saudi Arabia but was believed to have spent the last three years in Sudan and Somalia. John was surprised to see that there was up to a one million dollar reward for information that directly led to the arrest of Mr. Phalah. I know a woman who could use that money, John thought.
He put away the laptop and while doing so he remembered a story he had read about the Civil War soldiers that deserted for the paltry sum of two months wages, which would amount to about twenty dollars. The motive to desert was brought about by the desire to leave the gloom and death caused by the sicknesses that permeated the camps. Few realize that for every man killed in battle, two died of either measles, mumps, pneumonia, or encephalitis. They wanted to live, and the motive was not as much driven by the receipt of money, but the consuming desire to return to a normal, healthy life. His thoughts returned to Marlene. Surely there was a parallel. But he still could not get a handle on it.
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Three a.m. The two men left the car on the dirt road and entered a corn field. At the end of the corn row they stopped and saw the large house, garage, and two parked cars. The white sedan was of no interest to them, it was the black Land Rover they wanted. One of the men clicked away on the Canon SLR with CMOS sensor, which high tech camera would produce a photo nearly as illuminated as a picture taken in daylight. They didn’t see the owl flying overhead in the night sky. The men returned to the car and had no idea that Oliver followed them to Highway Nine, where they turned left which led them away from town.