half-broken garage door. The blur streaked directly for him. Three feet from the boy the German shepherd stopped and bared its fangs. A menacing growl rose from its throat.
The boy stood face-to-face with the dog for a moment, then he whistled an intricate little melody. Instantly the dog's aggressiveness subsided. It bounded over to the boy and excitedly licked his hand. The dog literally danced in circles around the boy. A large smile, rather uncommon for the stoic youth, covered his face as he lookeddown at his dog. He hugged the wolf-looking canine and received a face full of wet dog kisses in return.
“Hey, girl,” he whispered in the dog's large pointed ears, “did you miss me, girl? I know you ain't trying to act funny. Look what I got for you.”
The boy held his grocery bag in front of the dog's moist, pointed snout. The dog sniffed the irresistible scent of the raw beef into her nostrils. Her already wagging tail sped up to near Mach speed. Her tongue lolled out of her mouth as she danced a jig in anticipation of her dinner.
There was a large stainless steel bowl by the wall of the garage. The boy walked over to it. He split the plastic wrapping on the meat package and dumped the contents into the bowl. The large dog almost knocked him over getting to the delicacy.
As she chomped, smacked, and licked her way through the meal, the boy stroked her coarse tan-and-gray fur. In a matter of seconds the entire meal was gone.
“You sure love that burger meat, huh, girl,” the boy said as he scratched his friend's chest. “You ate it all. If I ate like that I would bust.”
The dog cocked her head to the side and listened to her master. It was rare that the boy talked, so it always surprised the dog when he did.
Until dusk the boy remained in the backyard with his dog—pet-ting her, training her, and playing with her. The boy knew from the disappearing sun that it was time to go inside. His good-byes to his friend were said more with his eyes than with words. The dog whimpered a bit as he began to retreat up the back porch stairs, then she turned and disappeared into the garage.
Inside the apartment the boy sat at the kitchen table and finished his homework. He helped his younger twin sisters with their assignments, then gave them their Twinkies. Dinner was quick, followed by television sitcoms until his mother declared that it was time to bathe and go to bed.
… In the middle of night the boy awakened to the shouting of his mother and stepfather.
His stepfather shouted, “Let me the fuck go, Lillian! I don't give a fuck! I'm gone kill this motherfucker. This motherfucker done bit me!”
The boy heard his mother's high-pitched voice: “That dog didn't mean it, she was just protecting the house! Yo dumb ass came through the back way all drunk and shit. She thought yo ass was a goddamn burglar or something!”
“That motherfucking dog is stupid as fuck just like her dumb-ass master! That little quiet-ass nigga done taught that mutt to hate me! The dumb-ass mutt ain't even got no damn name! What kind of shit is that? That shiteater wanna bite me, huh? I got something for that ass!”
The boy sat up in his narrow bunk bed. The plain blue sheet slipped from his bare chest. He heard sounds of a struggle in the kitchen, followed by the crashing of what the boy knew had to be the porcelain cookie jar from the top of the refrigerator. He heard the screen door slam, then heavy steps on the creaky stairs of the back porch. Silence followed the footsteps. Then he heard his dog's throaty growl.
Five gunshots ripped through the night.
The heavy footsteps returned to the stairs. The screen door opened, then banged shut.
Again his mother's voice: “You didn't have to do that to that damn dog!”
“Shut the fuck up talking to me, Lillian! I done warned that boy that if that dog ever got out of pocket with me, I was gone kill it! It was a goddamn sooner anyway! The sooner off it got dead, the better off it is! I
The boy stood face-to-face with the dog for a moment, then he whistled an intricate little melody. Instantly the dog's aggressiveness subsided. It bounded over to the boy and excitedly licked his hand. The dog literally danced in circles around the boy. A large smile, rather uncommon for the stoic youth, covered his face as he lookeddown at his dog. He hugged the wolf-looking canine and received a face full of wet dog kisses in return.
“Hey, girl,” he whispered in the dog's large pointed ears, “did you miss me, girl? I know you ain't trying to act funny. Look what I got for you.”
The boy held his grocery bag in front of the dog's moist, pointed snout. The dog sniffed the irresistible scent of the raw beef into her nostrils. Her already wagging tail sped up to near Mach speed. Her tongue lolled out of her mouth as she danced a jig in anticipation of her dinner.
There was a large stainless steel bowl by the wall of the garage. The boy walked over to it. He split the plastic wrapping on the meat package and dumped the contents into the bowl. The large dog almost knocked him over getting to the delicacy.
As she chomped, smacked, and licked her way through the meal, the boy stroked her coarse tan-and-gray fur. In a matter of seconds the entire meal was gone.
“You sure love that burger meat, huh, girl,” the boy said as he scratched his friend's chest. “You ate it all. If I ate like that I would bust.”
The dog cocked her head to the side and listened to her master. It was rare that the boy talked, so it always surprised the dog when he did.
Until dusk the boy remained in the backyard with his dog—pet-ting her, training her, and playing with her. The boy knew from the disappearing sun that it was time to go inside. His good-byes to his friend were said more with his eyes than with words. The dog whimpered a bit as he began to retreat up the back porch stairs, then she turned and disappeared into the garage.
Inside the apartment the boy sat at the kitchen table and finished his homework. He helped his younger twin sisters with their assignments, then gave them their Twinkies. Dinner was quick, followed by television sitcoms until his mother declared that it was time to bathe and go to bed.
… In the middle of night the boy awakened to the shouting of his mother and stepfather.
His stepfather shouted, “Let me the fuck go, Lillian! I don't give a fuck! I'm gone kill this motherfucker. This motherfucker done bit me!”
The boy heard his mother's high-pitched voice: “That dog didn't mean it, she was just protecting the house! Yo dumb ass came through the back way all drunk and shit. She thought yo ass was a goddamn burglar or something!”
“That motherfucking dog is stupid as fuck just like her dumb-ass master! That little quiet-ass nigga done taught that mutt to hate me! The dumb-ass mutt ain't even got no damn name! What kind of shit is that? That shiteater wanna bite me, huh? I got something for that ass!”
The boy sat up in his narrow bunk bed. The plain blue sheet slipped from his bare chest. He heard sounds of a struggle in the kitchen, followed by the crashing of what the boy knew had to be the porcelain cookie jar from the top of the refrigerator. He heard the screen door slam, then heavy steps on the creaky stairs of the back porch. Silence followed the footsteps. Then he heard his dog's throaty growl.
Five gunshots ripped through the night.
The heavy footsteps returned to the stairs. The screen door opened, then banged shut.
Again his mother's voice: “You didn't have to do that to that damn dog!”
“Shut the fuck up talking to me, Lillian! I done warned that boy that if that dog ever got out of pocket with me, I was gone kill it! It was a goddamn sooner anyway! The sooner off it got dead, the better off it is! I
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