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"What have you brought me?" I asked as I dropped a hand to Ford’s shoulder for a moment and then made my way to the back of the truck. Cam and Nolan met us on the other side.
"Sawyer," Cam said with a nod of his head as he greeted me. Then he opened the back of the SUV. We were instantly greeted with a chilling snarl followed by a high-pitched series of barks. I barely recognized the animal in the crate as a dog. Its dark fur was matted with blood and mud. It wasn't a huge animal, but it was clearly a strong one because the entire crate rattled every time the dog threw its body against the metal.
I glanced at Dallas who had a grim look on his face. He nodded at me and we automatically stepped away from the SUV. Cam and Ford followed. The animal calmed down somewhat, but the low snarls continued to bubble up from its throat.
"Where did you find him?" I asked.
"Someone reported the dog wandering on the side of the road. Highway thirty-nine. The woman who called the office thought it was a wolf or coyote. Ford and I were on our way home, so we stopped to take a look. It took us a while, but we finally found it in the tree line next to the highway. There's some kind of chain or rope hanging from its neck that had gotten caught on a log. We tried to wait until he calmed down, but he was struggling so hard to get away that we were concerned he would do permanent damage to himself," Cam explained.
I glanced over my shoulder at the dog who had finally lain down in the crate.
"Cam had to tranq him," Ford said.
"The dart didn't seem to go fully in because he wasn't out long. We tried to take a look at his injuries as we were getting him into the crate, but he started coming to," Cam continued.
I nodded and then took a few steps back toward the car. The dog instantly jumped to its feet and began growling at me. As soon as I stopped my forward movement, the dog quieted a bit.
"That's good," Dallas said from behind me. His appearance at my side got the dog going again but when neither of us moved or sustained eye contact with the animal, it settled back down.
I nodded. "Fear, not aggression." Although a fearful animal was nothing to take lightly, it gave me cause for hope. Only on the rarest of occasions had I encountered a dog that had been so badly treated by humans that it had reverted to the wild state it shared with its wolf cousin and couldn't be saved. A traumatized dog who reacted out of fear rather than malice would be tough to rehabilitate but not impossible.
"There's one more thing," Cam said, keeping his voice soft so as to not aggravate the dog any further. It seemed to work because the dog didn’t react any more strongly than it already was. "He's got some kind of tattoo in his ear. We only got a brief look at it though."
I took a few slow steps forward and was pleased when the dog didn't move. It did, however, continue to growl. Its quieter state gave me the opportunity to get a closer look at the animal’s body. It was definitely some kind of shepherd breed, though it was hard to tell for sure which kind. I shifted my gaze to the dog's ears. While the dog’s right ear looked normal, the left was sporting a large hematoma on the inside of the ear. But I was able to see the tattoo Cam had been talking about.
I stepped back and returned to where Cam, Ford, and Dallas were waiting. "There’s a hematoma covering part of the tattoo." I glanced over my shoulder at the dog and continued, "Some owners have their dogs tattooed in addition to microchipping them, but I've never seen one where the numbers and letters are so large. All I can make out is an R and a six. The tattoo can't be more than a few numbers and letters."
"Hopefully he has a microchip," Dallas said. "We'll need to sedate him again."
I nodded. "I'll see if I can get close enough to do it, but if not, we may need to use your dart gun, Cam."
"No problem," Cam responded. I turned away so I could grab my medical bag which I’d left closer to the vehicle. I came to a sudden stop when I saw Jett just a few feet from the dog. The animal was snarling but it wasn't lunging at the door of the crate like it had when the rest of us had approached it.
"Jett," I said softly to get his attention. He didn't respond. In fact, he rolled his chair even closer to the vehicle. I felt my heart jump into my throat. "Jett, the dog is dangerous…"
