Street Chains
Chapter 4
Both of the puppies’ group leaders stared each other down; Owl’s aqua green eyes were locked onto T.P’s abnormal green ones. Samuel lowered his head, eyes lowered to the ground as he tried to keep a low profile. Even though he had his head down, Samuel stood surely.
Jeremy kept his mouth shut as he looked on from behind Owl and the House Pet. The cream and brown blotchy Norrbottenspets backed up a few steps from the other five. “Uh, h-hi, guys...”
Owl and T.P looked up simultaneously. The terrier just snorted and walked closer to Owl. “What are you doing here?” he asked again, this time in a sterner tone. “I thought you were too pissed to come back.”
Now it was Owl’s turn to snort. She averted her gaze to the smaller puppy standing directly in front of her. “I rounded up a group to go and save Iggy. I knew you wouldn’t be able to do it on your own, and I already figured that you were going to get Cross.” She paused then continued. “I thought about joining forces with you, but then I don’t wanna get killed in a botched rescue mission.”
“Are you saying my leader skills are bad?!” T.P erupted. The tan fur on his neck and back instantly bristled and his face scrunched up. “Well, are ya?”
The question bounced off of Owl’s chest and fell to the ground. Owl kept a straight face, watching T.P’s scrunch up even more in anger and annoyance. Why was she ignoring him? T.P hated being ignored and Owl knew this.
“Answer me, dangit!” With a mighty lunge, T.P shot forward at the gang’s second-in-command. Owl saw the attack coming and swiftly stepped to the left, letting T.P land on his face. When he looked back up, Owl was facing him, her back to Bruce and Cross; the two followers had astonished looks on their canine faces and wide eyes. Samuel, who was behind T.P, quickly walked over and helped his friend to his feet. Two pairs of eyes, one purple and the others green, narrows at the red and cream puppy.
“Owl!” Sammy cried. “What’s wrong with you? I know you think this is all T.P’s fault, but COME ON! He’s trying to save our baby and what are you doing? Causing more chaos than there was.”
The collared male shook his head again. “Owl, I’m disappointed in you. You’ve never acted like this and...and I’m joining T.P’s group.”
With that said, he bounded past Owl just as she snapped at his legs in disapproval, and stood with his chest puffed out and brow furrowed in front of Bruce and Cross.
“Fine! Be that way,” Owl spat back. “C’mon, Jeremy-”
She was greeted by a blur of cream and brown as Spooky ran past her and stood by his colleagues. Owl’s mouth hung open, she turned to face the group of now four puppies, T.P soon making it five when he padded over there. A cocky grin found its way to his muzzle as he faced Owl again. “So what’s it gonna be, huh? Are ya going in alone or are ya coming with us?”
The pitbull mix puppy stiffened her legs and barked out, “Not in a million years! You guys go and see if you can bring Iggs back without me and I’ll see you all in the backyards of a fancy lil’ house on Snob Hill by next week!”
“Owl, don’t be like that,” Jeremy called out, but Owl had already turned her back and was turning the corner, heading back to the block she had just arrived from.
“Ah, who needs her and her bad attitude anyway?” T.P asked, making a disgusted face. He turned back to face the others. “I think there’s enough of us.”
“Yeah,” Samuel chimed in. “Let’s just go get Iggy and make sure she’s in safe, loving hands again.” Bruce gave a half of smile at that statement. “I couldn’t agree more with’cha, Sammy.”
“Well let’s go then!” T.P barked and ran down the street. His friends were close on his heels as all of them bolted down the sidewalk, out of Snob Hill and into the familiar territory of the Street Dogs.
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It had been a little over four hours since the pound had picked little Iggy up. Since it was a workday, and a busy one at that, Anthony O’Mally had to patrol around town, scooping up bothersome stray dogs as he went, and make sure that the citizens of the town were safe from any rabies-infected, mange-containing, or just pesky pooches who were unlucky enough to be born a street dog or were dumped by their owners.
The dogcatcher had picked up five more pups in addition to the one he had caught earlier that morning: a tiny mix breed pooch who was tormenting someone’s pet dog in the community of Safe Haven Meadows, two stray puppies who weren’t old enough to fend for themselves; Anthony thought that they were way too cute to be locked up in the back of the pound, but he knew that they would be there for a while anyway. He hoped that he could manage to change some of the employees’ minds and have the pups moved from back there and to the front desk where they had a better chance of getting adopted.
In the back of his car was an adult black and white collie mix and that cream and black puppy he got earlier. The other dog that was back there before now was a scoundrel mutt named Toughy. The brown dog used to live in the pound, Anthony remembered seeing him a few months back when he first applied for a job there. Lucky for Toughy, the mutt was adopted and his blue collar with the golden tag told the man exactly where he lived in Safe Haven so he could return him to his owners.
All of this happened hours before Mr. O’Mally returned to the pound. When he pulled the tan and green Model-T up the gravel driveway, there was already someone there to help him, George, another dogcatcher who worked for the pound.
At first, the tiny troublemaking dog made a barking fit when the car stopped, but when George opened the wired door and reached in to get her, the small animal was as quiet as a mouse and she made no attempt to bite the hand of Anthony’s assistante. Next came the two babies; Anthony took care of them himself while the other man locked the car’s back door.
After both men went into the pound, Iggy heaved a sigh, causing the collie-like dog to look at her from the corner of his eye. Iggy smiled nervously when she noticed and the older dog went back to looking out the car’s wired door. The cream puppy stopped smiling as her expression fell. How does he manage to be so calm in a time like this? Doesn’t he know that he might be...killed here?
The collie’s blue eyes narrowed and he lifted his lip. Iggy went over to the door to see what was wrong and her heart dropped when she saw the dogcatcher and his friend returning. The assistante had a large, wooden handled net in his hands while the other man who had captured Iggy and the other dogs carried nothing. He opened the door and his partner positioned the net to catch the larger dog in the car.
Iggy’s eyes widened and she crouched on the floor in a quivering heap. The collie stood up, teeth now bared, tail held high; growling as the man opened the door all the way up, he yelled, “Run kid!” Iggy didn’t budge. “Run NOW!”
That booming voice was all it took to get her chubby little legs moving. Iggy leapt out the back of the pound car just as the adult dog had the net slammed over him, trapping him inside a black pattern of criss-cross. As soon as she hit the ground, however, Anthony’s large hand bundled around her scruff, pinching into her flesh. As he attempted to lift her from the dirt, Iggy frantically swiveled her head around and chomped down on the guy’s hand. The dog catcher let out a sharp shout, one that sounded like that of a parent dog’s bark when her pups were playing too rough with each other or making too much noise for her to bear; “Stop! Don’t do that!”
Iggy immediately let go of the man’s hand and he took advantage of the situation to push her body to the ground and held her there. Iggy let out a muffled gasp and opened one eye to see the collie who had tried to save her life being dragged past her and into the pound in the net. He saw Iggy and gave her a firm, but sad look; Why didn’t you run when I told you to? Iggy responded by lowering her eyes. I’m sorry.
From his back pocket, Anthony pulled out a tattered green leash. Unwrapping it, he sat Iggy up by the handful of skin and fur he was still holding just in case she tried to bite him again, and slipped the ring tied into the leash around her neck. Surprisingly, Iggy didn’t put up a fight.
“Alright,” the man said as he stood up, leash firmly in his grasp. “This way, little lady.” When he walked toward the pound’s door, Iggy pulled back, planting her feet in the ground as she did so, but he yanked the lasso. The ring tightened around the cream dog’s neck and Iggy let out a hack. She coughed a second time then frowned at the man before she obliged, slowly trotting behind him.
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“C’mon, little lady.”
The tall man dressed in a city pound uniform quickly walked down the aisle of dark, barred cages. Behind him, being led by a green leash, was a small cream, black, and gray puppy; she trotted slowly behind him with her head hung so low that her black tipped ears dragged across the stony floor.
The pound worker slowed down when he reached one of the cages near the end of the hallway. Iggy lifted her head when she heard a creaking noise and saw the daogcatcher opening the cage door.
When he reached down to take the leash off her, the thought of running immediately popped into her head, but her hopes were crushed when the man swiftly slid the cream puppy across the cold floor and into the scarcely hay covered floor of the cage with his foot. It didn’t even hurt, Iggy realized, the man hadn’t even push her that hard.
After locking the cage, Anthony squatted down to be eye level with the dog. “Don’t worry, girl. I know you won’t be here long.” He gave a reassuring smile, but Iggy could read the hurt and worry in his blue eyes. “I’m sure you’ll get adopted by someone...I mean, who could resist this cute lil’ face?” Anthony stuck his hand through the bars at Iggy; she saw it floating toward her head and snapped at it.
Anthony had faster reflexes than she expected; he withdrew his hand with lightning speed and all Iggy managed to do was gnash her two rows of teeth together. When she looked at the man again, he was already on his feet, examining his right hand to make sure the puppy hadn’t snagged his flesh. Finding it perfectly unscaved, Anthony picked up the leash from the floor, rewrapped it, and placed it back in his pocket. Iggy kept glaring at him through the evenly placed bars. “Uh, I’ll feed you in about...” He glanced at his cheap wrist watch, “...Ten minutes.” With that said, the dogcatcher walked back down the long hallway and through a door that had light coming from underneath it. When he opened it, Anthony was engulfed by the light, but he, and the brightness, soon disappeared once he stepped through and closed the door back.
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The puppy sat at the barred door of her cell for a moment before she uttered a quiet whimper. Suddenly, a low howl echoed through the room, and, startled, she jumped back and searched for where the noise had come from. When she thought she pinpointed its location, another mournful howl filled the stale air of the pound. Soon it sounded like every single dog back there was crying and wailing.
Iggy whimpered right along with them. She stuck her shiny black nose through the bars and sniffed the air. Her olive eyes watered as each note hit her ears; just by listening, Iggy could tell what every dog’s backstory was of winding up in the pound was: one of them was abandoned by his owners when they had a new baby, the two puppies from the van howled out that their mother had been hit by a car while trying to escape with them from a group of stray dogs and the two siblings wandered around the streets until they were picked up tonight. Then Iggy’s ears perked when a familiar booming voice cut through the others. The collie wailed a long story of living on a farm in rural Arkansas and was given to his owner’s close family who lived in this town after his master was murdered in a robbery in his house. After that, the black and white dog was left on the streets by his new family after he was beaten and misused by them. They finally came back and got him, only to give the mix breed to the pound after the stated that he had “attacked them and other people.”
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Iggy felt tears sting her pretty green eyes when the older dog finished his long tale. A sharp howl erupted from behind her and Iggy gasped in shock. She whirled around to see a small dog standing partially in the shadows of the back of their cage. It howled again, but Iggy payed no attention to what its message said; she was more interested in the dog itself.
Finally, the other puppy lowered its head from the air and calm brown eyes met inquiring olive ones. A cheeky smile crossed the other’s cream muzzle. “Hiya,” he said, brown eyes sparkling. “Oh, sorry if I scared you.”
Iggy just nodded as her way of saying, it’s alright. The other puppy cocked his orange head to the side, causing the fox-like tufts of fur on his cheeks to hang from his face. “Uh,” he said, giving his new cellmate a confused look. “Did you hear me?”
Iggy nodded again.
“Then how come you didn’t say answer me?”
The cream and black puppy sighed and opened her mouth. She pointed at it with her paw, closed it, then shook her paw side to side.
“You can’t talk? O-oh, you’re mute?” the orange puppy asked sadly as Iggy nodded again. “Could you...could you tell-er show me your name?” he asked, making eye contact with the girl dog again.
A smile spread across the pound’s newest member’s muzzle and she found a patch of dirt on the floor of the cell. The puppy dug into the soft earth with her claws, etching out letters. When she was finished, she stepped back to admire her work. The other puppy trotted up beside her and read the word.
“Iggy?” He looked up at the cream newbie as she wagged her feathery tail and let her tongue loll out the side of her opened mouth. “Well it’s nice to meet you, Iggy,” he said with a smile. “My name’s Spencer.”