Dog Tags

CHAPTER 30

SONDRA AND MILO LEFT THE HOUSE AT SIX THIRTY IN THE MORNING. That was standard procedure on the days that the foundation was open. There were always at least twenty-five dogs in runs, waiting their turn to be adopted, so there was much to be done. Feeding, walking, cleaning up… it all had to be done before prospective adopters started showing up at ten o’clock.

The foundation had grown considerably in size and reputation since its inception three years before, and had attracted a number of unpaid, dog-loving volunteers to help with the work. But for most of them, their dog loving didn’t kick in until at least nine AM, and Sondra was always in long before that.

Sondra loved the work and felt that there was nothing more rewarding than seeing a dog who had recently been in the shelter going off to a new, loving home. The only part she didn’t relish was the process by which she and Willie had to determine if that home was dog-friendly enough. They weren’t about to send a dog off to be tied to a tree in some backyard, or used as a guard. But telling people that they could not adopt one of the dogs still made Sondra uncomfortable.

Willie couldn’t care less about offending anyone. If they weren’t offering the kind of home for the dog that Willie felt acceptable, he had no qualms in letting them know it, often in graphic terms.

Since Milo had come to their home, Sondra had been taking him to the foundation each morning. He stayed in a back room, unseen by the volunteers or potential adopters, to protect his safety and security, just in case.

Sondra spent as much time with him back there as she could. Not because he needed the company; he could amuse himself quite well with a chew toy, and he was happy to sleep the day away or play with dogs who were brought back there to keep him company. It was because she had already grown to love him, as had Willie, in the brief time he’d lived with them.

Not only was Milo playful, affectionate, and hysterically funny, but he was as smart as any dog they had ever been around. He had already learned to manipulate their dog Cash, and Cash had clearly accepted him as his leader.

When Willie and Sondra would sit on the couch watching television, Cash would be up there between them, accepting petting from both. Since there was then no room for Milo, Milo would suddenly start to bark and move toward the doggy door to the outside as if he had heard something out there.

An excited Cash would run outside to see what was going on, whereupon Milo would immediately take Cash’s position on the couch. When Cash returned, disappointed by the lack of action outdoors, he would be relegated to a place on the floor, or another chair, with no one to pet him.

As Willie had directed her, Sondra pulled up to the back of the foundation building, so that Milo would not be seen by cars passing by on the street. She got out of the car and looked briefly around, then reached into her bag for the keys to the building.

Once she had them in hand, she opened the door to let Milo out. He jumped out of the car, tail wagging, since he enjoyed his time there. She didn’t put him on a leash; it would have been unnecessary and maybe even a little demeaning. Milo was not a dog to run off or disobey commands.

“I’ll take the dog.”

Sondra heard the words and whirled around to see Ray Childress, all six foot two and 230 pounds of him, holding a gun on her and not looking too pleased to be there. Dog-napping was beneath his dignity as a hit man, Childress felt, though the money he was getting for it certainly was more than enough to soothe his ego.

Unfortunately for Childress, Milo also whirled around and saw the gun, and he immediately sprang into action. Without hesitation, he raced the four strides toward Ray and launched himself into the air.

Childress was blessed with very quick reactions, and physically he would have had the time to point the gun and shoot it at Milo. His hesitation was mental, as he had been specifically told to take the dog, not to kill him.

But Childress would be damned if he’d let the dog bite him; he’d rather kill him first, no matter what the instructions.

Sondra watched Milo as he moved, so she didn’t see the other activity that rendered moot any decision making by Childress. As he raised the gun, and before Milo arrived, the left side of his skull was crushed by the side of Willie Miller’s hand, much in the way Willie used to break bricks at the end of his karate instruction classes.

Childress was dead before he hit the ground. Milo, recognizing that there was no longer a live assailant to disarm, immediately paused and waited for further instructions, though none were forthcoming.

Sondra was sobbing softly, and Willie put his arm around her. “I’m gonna go in and call nine-one-one,” he said.

“What if he gets up?”

Willie took a look at the fallen Childress and shook his head. “He ain’t getting up.”