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I arrived home to utter chaos.
Pulling my truck into my drive proved to be a feat due to all the police cruisers and news vans.
Oh, and the South Louisiana Dog Catcher’s vehicle.
The first thing I saw when I finally made my way into the driveway, using the grown over grass to drive through, was Viddy standing on my front porch in sweat pants and a t-shirt yelling at the chief of police.
A sick feeling started to swell in my gut as I parked under the awning and shut my truck off.
The news vans started to swarm my truck, but I didn’t let it happen for long.
Stepping out onto the concrete, I said, “I want you off my property in five minutes or I’ll have you arrested. Now.”
My tone booked no room for argument, and they all obeyed, albeit reluctantly.
They moved until they were no longer on my driveway, which I guess was as good as it was going to get.
The only other cars were the Chief’s and two other black and white’s. Our Chief of Police, Cabe Warren, was a good man. He was older though and set in his ways. At times he could be hard to deal with, but he seemed to like me most of the time.
The other two at the scene were Tunnel Morrison, a very soon to be member of The Dixie Wardens, and another rookie that I didn’t even know the name of, and really could care less.
I gave them both slow nods and walked up until I was standing directly behind the chief.
Viddy hadn’t seen me because of the angle at which she was standing, but then again, her focus was all for the chief.
“You can take your good intentions and shove them up your ass. I will give you Radar over my cold, dead body.” She bellowed.
“Listen, ma’am. All I’m here for is Radar. Nothing will happen to him, but his behavior needs to be witnessed in front of an animal behaviorist. Once he’s cleared, he can come home.” Cabe said patiently.
“He’s not going anywhere.” She snapped.
“She’s right. He’s not going anywhere. It doesn’t matter what your animal behaviorist says. He’s not leaving me until he dies of old age. I can promise you that.”
My tone was devastatingly dark and deadly. I’d fight to the death for that dog, because that is what he would do for me.
***
I didn’t like her.
The supposed animal behaviorist was standing on my front porch, and I knew instantly that she wasn’t a professional.
A professional wouldn’t have gazed first in my eyes, and then at my crotch.
A professional wouldn’t have asked first how much my house cost and walked straight past the dog she was supposed to be studying without a backwards glance.
If the chief hadn’t mandated this to keep my job, I wouldn’t have even let her past the threshold of my door.
The woman, Jezebel Plight as she introduced herself, was in a skintight black knee length dress that hugged her skinniness like it was something to fawn over.
Personally it made me want to puke seeing bones where there should be curves, but hey, that might get someone off. Someone that wasn’t me.
My eyes were only for Viddy’s curvaceous body.
She was currently sitting on the couch next to Kosher, who had his head in her lap. Mocha and Tequila were at her feet, half under the couch chewing on a bone the size of Utah.
It was so big that both puppies each had an end, and there was still room to spare.
“Mr. Cabe,” Jezebel said happily when she saw the chief sitting in the recliner opposite Viddy. “How are you?”
