Page 18 of Into The Light
"ROW!"NO!"Row-roooo!"I'm zooming!
My heart melts a little, watching how gentle Bear's huge hands are as he towels the obstinate creature dry. After toweling him off, Bear and I take turns running a brush through Roger's thick fur, until he's glossy and handsome.
"How did a handsome fella like this end up here?" I ask Bear. "Do you know?"
Bear shrugs. "Huskies sound like a good idea until you have one."
"Why's that?"
He gestures at Roger, who, now that he's been released from his grooming, has resumed his maniacal zoomies. "They're too damn smart for their own good. They talk back. Endless energy. He's like this literally all the time. No off switch."
"Why Bear, that was, like, six whole sentences at once!" I tease.
He blinks at me owlishly. "What do you mean?"
I laugh. "I'm teasing you."
"Oh."
I peer up at him. "You do know that I’m just playing around, right? I'm not actually making fun of you."
He nods slowly. "I know."
“Bear?” Gloria's voice echoes from the front, sounding scared. "HELP!"
"Grab Roger." Bear hands me a leash and bolts for the front, moving faster and more gracefully than a man of his size has any right to move.
I leash Roger and walk him to the cages, finding the empty one with his name handwritten on a tag. I put him in and unclip the leash, latch the cage, and hustle for the front.
Gloria is huddled behind the counter, shaking, as no fewer than four burly, brown-uniformed county Animal Controlofficers struggle to contain the single most horrifying creature I've ever laid eyes on.
It's gargantuan, a barking, drooling, slavering, snarling beast the size of a lion with short, mottled-brown fur, pointed ears, and a long, whip-like tail. The mammoth animal is a killing machine with huge, crushing jaws and curved, slicing talons on his dinner-plate paws. Even with a leash muzzling his jaws closed and a spiked collar digging viciously into the thick fur at its neck, the monstrous dog is seconds from breaking loose and murdering us all.
Bear faces the beast from a couple of feet away, hands at his sides, cooly and calmly regarding the two-hundred-pound murder machine.
"His owner died," one of the officers explains between grunts of effort. “Won’t respond to commands. If you guys don’t take him, we’re putting him down. He’s fucking dangerous as hell."
Bear grunts in response, crouching. "Wait a second." He rises and inches closer. "Hold him."
"Fuckin' trying, man. This big fucker is impossible to hold." The officer is a big, thick-necked man himself, as are the other three, and even with four of the telescoping noose things around his neck, the dog is dragging all four men across the tile floor.
Bear gets ahold of the huge, terrifying dog's collar, glancing at the nametag. "Panzer."
"Yeah? So?" the officer snaps.
Bear lets the shiny gold nametag go and backs up. "Sitz." It sounds likesits;I assume it means sit.
Immediately, the dog ceases struggling and plops his butt onto the floor.
"Platz."Pl-AH-ts.
The dog, Panzer, lays on his belly. It means to lay down, I guess.
"Bleib."Bl-eye-b.Bear glances at the officers. "Give him some slack."
"Are you fuckin' nuts?" Bear just stares, and the officer shakes his head. "Fine. Your funeral."
They slowly ease off the pressure, until it's apparent Panzer isn't going anywhere.
