Arthur raised his head, propped himself up on his side, and tried to drag himself, using his one good foreleg and pushing with his back legs.
I ran forward, grabbed him around his chest, and pulled with all my might, dragging the heavy German shepherd back toward my car. He whined in pain, leaving a dark trail of blood behind.
Crusher yelled at me, “Get out of here!”
I opened the door to the backseat of my car. “Not without my dog!”
I tried to lift Arthur up into the car, but he was way too cumbersome for me.
Suddenly a biker appeared beside me. He scooped up the dog in his arms, laid him gently into the backseat, and slammed the door shut. “Go!”
I ran to the driver’s side, jumped in, and turned the ignition key even before I’d shut the door. Arthur’s cries of pain were muffled by the sound of my tires squealing on the road.
Oh, please don’t let him die! Please don’t let him die.
CHAPTER 11
I broke the speed limit all the way to the twenty-four-hour animal hospital in Encino, pulled into the parking lot, and leaned on my horn, hoping to arouse someone inside. A tech dressed in blue scrubs came to the door.
I jumped out and opened the passenger door. “My dog! He’s been stabbed! Please help me!”
The tech yelled something over his shoulder; then another tech appeared, running with a rolling stainless-steel table. Arthur whined softly as they pulled him gently out of the car. Blood dripped on the carpet and puddled on the seat. He lifted his head and gave me a sad look.
The open car door triggered a persistent dinging to let me know the keys were still in the ignition. I ran inside after the techs, ignoring the sound.
Arthur had tried to keep me from leaving the house tonight; I took him with me instead. I was so ashamed. I put him in danger, knowing he’d protect me, even at the risk of his own life.
Frantic for reassurance, I grabbed the tech’s sleeve as his helper wheeled Arthur through doors marked STAFF ONLY . “ Is he going to be all right?”
“Don’t know yet. He’s got a deep laceration on his shoulder and he’s lost a lot of blood. Looks like he’ll need surgery. We’ll know more after the doc looks at him. Meanwhile, register at the desk and then have a seat and wait.”
I ran back to the car, pulled the keys from the ignition, and grabbed my purse from under the seat. I reached inside for my cell phone, dreading the call I had to make. I could hardly see through my tears.
He answered on the second ring. “Beavers.”
“Oh, Arlo, I’ve done something so foolish. Now Arthur is hurt. I’m so sorry,” I blubbered.
“Slow down. Are you all right? What’s this about Arthur?”
“I went out tonight and took Arthur with me. Someone attacked me and then stabbed the dog when he jumped in to protect me. I’m at the animal hospital in Encino.”
His voice got very quiet. “Were you injured?”
“No. But Arthur—”
“How bad?”
“He got stabbed in the shoulder. He’s in with the doctor now. He may need surgery.”
“Where were you when this happened?”
“On Burbank Boulevard.”
“Near the 405? We’ve just responded to a call. Were you in that mess?”
“Yes.”
“That’s it. I’ve had enough.” Then the phone went dead.
Ten minutes later, Beavers pushed open the waiting-room doors and reached my chair in three angry strides, eyes on fire. A look of dread briefly crossed his face when he saw Arthur’s blood smeared on my clothes and hands. “Where’s my dog?”
The STAFF ONLY door opened and a gorgeous young veterinarian in a white lab coat walked efficiently over to us, peeling off a pair of bloody latex gloves. Her long blond hair hung in a perky ponytail and her blue eyes flicked from me to Beavers. “Are you the owners of the German shepherd?”
Beavers turned his back to me and faced the doctor. “I am. How is he?”
The pretty doctor looked at him and smiled, ignoring my presence completely. “I’m Dr. Kerry Andreason.”
I ran forward, grabbed him around his chest, and pulled with all my might, dragging the heavy German shepherd back toward my car. He whined in pain, leaving a dark trail of blood behind.
Crusher yelled at me, “Get out of here!”
I opened the door to the backseat of my car. “Not without my dog!”
I tried to lift Arthur up into the car, but he was way too cumbersome for me.
Suddenly a biker appeared beside me. He scooped up the dog in his arms, laid him gently into the backseat, and slammed the door shut. “Go!”
I ran to the driver’s side, jumped in, and turned the ignition key even before I’d shut the door. Arthur’s cries of pain were muffled by the sound of my tires squealing on the road.
Oh, please don’t let him die! Please don’t let him die.
CHAPTER 11
I broke the speed limit all the way to the twenty-four-hour animal hospital in Encino, pulled into the parking lot, and leaned on my horn, hoping to arouse someone inside. A tech dressed in blue scrubs came to the door.
I jumped out and opened the passenger door. “My dog! He’s been stabbed! Please help me!”
The tech yelled something over his shoulder; then another tech appeared, running with a rolling stainless-steel table. Arthur whined softly as they pulled him gently out of the car. Blood dripped on the carpet and puddled on the seat. He lifted his head and gave me a sad look.
The open car door triggered a persistent dinging to let me know the keys were still in the ignition. I ran inside after the techs, ignoring the sound.
Arthur had tried to keep me from leaving the house tonight; I took him with me instead. I was so ashamed. I put him in danger, knowing he’d protect me, even at the risk of his own life.
Frantic for reassurance, I grabbed the tech’s sleeve as his helper wheeled Arthur through doors marked STAFF ONLY . “ Is he going to be all right?”
“Don’t know yet. He’s got a deep laceration on his shoulder and he’s lost a lot of blood. Looks like he’ll need surgery. We’ll know more after the doc looks at him. Meanwhile, register at the desk and then have a seat and wait.”
I ran back to the car, pulled the keys from the ignition, and grabbed my purse from under the seat. I reached inside for my cell phone, dreading the call I had to make. I could hardly see through my tears.
He answered on the second ring. “Beavers.”
“Oh, Arlo, I’ve done something so foolish. Now Arthur is hurt. I’m so sorry,” I blubbered.
“Slow down. Are you all right? What’s this about Arthur?”
“I went out tonight and took Arthur with me. Someone attacked me and then stabbed the dog when he jumped in to protect me. I’m at the animal hospital in Encino.”
His voice got very quiet. “Were you injured?”
“No. But Arthur—”
“How bad?”
“He got stabbed in the shoulder. He’s in with the doctor now. He may need surgery.”
“Where were you when this happened?”
“On Burbank Boulevard.”
“Near the 405? We’ve just responded to a call. Were you in that mess?”
“Yes.”
“That’s it. I’ve had enough.” Then the phone went dead.
Ten minutes later, Beavers pushed open the waiting-room doors and reached my chair in three angry strides, eyes on fire. A look of dread briefly crossed his face when he saw Arthur’s blood smeared on my clothes and hands. “Where’s my dog?”
The STAFF ONLY door opened and a gorgeous young veterinarian in a white lab coat walked efficiently over to us, peeling off a pair of bloody latex gloves. Her long blond hair hung in a perky ponytail and her blue eyes flicked from me to Beavers. “Are you the owners of the German shepherd?”
Beavers turned his back to me and faced the doctor. “I am. How is he?”
The pretty doctor looked at him and smiled, ignoring my presence completely. “I’m Dr. Kerry Andreason.”
Similar Books
