Danger Lurked

Danger lurked within my city, and it fell to me to protect it—time to go to work.

Time to wake up my partner, for starters. How am I supposed to protect my city if my partner’s still in Dreamland?

“Woof!” I ordered. “Woof, woof, woof!”

Did I mention that I’m a dog?

Not just any dog! I’m a ruff, tough, law-enforcing, city-protecting beast of a German Shepherd dog! I am fearless! I am dedicated! I run! I leap! I take out bad guys in one powerful charge! I ruff in the face of danger! I am strong! Powerful! Brave!

But I don’t do doorknobs. Pesky things. That’s his job. I like to make him feel useful. Feel like he’s pulling his weight in our partnership.

Grabbing the blanket with my shiny, deadly teeth, I yanked it off of his sleeping form. He held on tighter to the sheet. Fine. I ripped the sheet off as well, and added a “Ruff!” in his ear for good measure. The pillow comes next, buddy.

“Okay, okay, I’m up!” he mumbled, opening one eye. I washed his face with a good lick, and he finally climbed out of bed. “Yuck!” he muttered. “Keep your tongue to yourself, Barkley. I can wash my own face.”

Then do so! We have work to do!

I danced around his feet as he prepared my breakfast. I like to keep him on his toes, test his balance, give him a little agility workout to start our day.

“Jeez, Barkley, get out from under my feet! I’m gonna step on you!”

Step on ME? As if! Just you try it! I can dance like a butterfly with all four feet! Bob and weave! Duck and cover!

While I ate my breakfast, he made his coffee. Smells great. Tastes nasty. To each his own.

Finally, we were ready to move out. Get that doorknob! Free the beast! Let’s go!

The streets were dark and empty. We appeared to be the only creatures stirring at the Witching Hour.

Witches! Broomsticks! Cats! Why CATS? Imagine what a DOG could do for a witch….But I digress.

The streets may have looked empty, but they were overflowing with smells. I followed my nose, sniffing the news of the night. Speaking of cats, there sure are a lot of them in my city. The smell is overpowering!

Ignore that. What else? Beer. (Yummy!) Garbage. (Has potential, but not while I’m on the job.) People. So many people. Ooh, nice smell! I stopped to get a better sniff.

“What is it, Barkley?” My partner is very attentive. Good man!

What is this smell? Soap? Bubble gum? Ah! Bubble gum shampoo! Kid shampoo! What is kid-shampoo smell doing out on the street after midnight?

I look up at my partner and whine. Something doesn’t smell right.

We both stop, look, and listen. And I smell. My partner’s not so hot at that, so he wisely leaves the smelling to me.

Something down that alley. A sound. A scuffed shoe. A smothered sob! We turn as one and peer into the darkness.

“Who’s there?” my partner demands. I leave the talking to him. “Show yourself. Police!”

I hear more sounds, tiny sounds that my partner can’t pick up. A whisper, cut short by a hand clamped hard against a mouth. The skritch of a leather-clad back pressed against the brick building. The near-silent scuff of a boot in the sand as a foot moved, getting ready to run.

“Grrr!” This was no time for a Ruff. I focused on that growl, reaching deep to make it authoritatively menacing. Let me go, partner! I willed him to understand. (Sometimes I think it would be nice to be able to talk his language.) I tensed my muscles, preparing for a burst of speed.

“Last chance,” my partner said. “Come out, or I’m sending the dog in!”

I reinforced his command with another “Grrrr!” of my own.

A scuffle! A curse! A child’s whimpering cry!

A dark figure came hurtling out of the alley, bumping my partner aside and high-tailing it down the street. My partner dropped my leash and took off after him.

I knew what to do! That child needed me! That child needed a Good Dog! I lowered my head and put on my best doggy-grin, wagged my magnificent tail, and slowly and non-threateningly made my way down the alley.

“Doggy?” a child’s voice asked. (Well, obviously!) I dropped lower and wagged harder. “Good doggy?” she asked tentatively. (Of course!) She reached for me, grabbing fistfuls of my fur. I stoically accepted her rough handling and offered her my best doggy comfort.

It’s okay, honey. I’m here. You’re safe. She giggled as I gave her face a good washing.

I love my job.