Page 39 of Road Refugees

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” I said.

Because I almost put my foot on the hollow body of a brownish dog, I instantly took in the carnage.

“Someone dumped them here,” said Heaven, just as those exact words formed in my head.

There must’ve been eight, nine adult dogs that’d been tossed in the creek. Whether they were alive or dead when tossed was questionable, but if they were healthy they would’ve found their way out of this burial pit. Some had that caved-in look of the face and skull that indicated they’d been here at least a week. Although originally fluffy, flies buzzed around their unholy ribcages. The creek, not deep in the deepest parts, merely went around the island of dogs.

And they weren’t puppies, tossed as if an unwanted pregnancy. These were adult dogs, and all of the same breed, Leonbergers if I had to guess, like black and blonde Newfoundlands. Sweet dogs. Wolf’s rescue dog Beetle was thought to be part Leonberger. I looked at Heaven, sharing her look of horror.

“If they’re grown like this,” I said, “that means they were part of a breeding program.”

“Backyard breeders,” she agreed. She admirably didn’t display any nausea.

I added, “Places where they stack them in cages.”

She handled one of the legs. “The legs don’t seem developed enough. You could be right. They might be all girls. Breeders.”

Linus bravely sat in the shallows of the creek and looked from the corpses to us, then back to the corpses. He wanted us to do something about this.

“What can we do?” I asked no one in particular.

“Well,” huffed Heaven, “we need to find out who did this.”

“All right,” I agreed. “That shouldn’t be too hard with the Bare Bones behind us. Right now, my angel, I want you to get out of this creek. Come on. I’ll send Wolf, Slappy and Crybaby back to dispose of these bodies. I don’t want you to have to think about them.”

Heaven took my hand and we started climbing the slight rise of creek bed. But Linus was having none of it. He kept barking a bit upriver, pointing his nose at something.

“Oh, all right,” I said reluctantly. “You stay here.”

I had to slide down the piney slope again, then sloshed against the splashing current in my Dingo boots, following the nimble Linus.

He stopped, looking down, then at me, then down. I got the picture.

“Good boy,” I said over and over as I hauled myself up using a tree limb. Linus had found another dog lying in the shallows. Only this one was panting.

“Heaven! She’s alive!” I shouted and bent to pick up the dog. Fucknuts, this girl is heavy. A hundred pounds, more if you counted the water dripping from her ribcage and paws. What had once been exquisite blonde fur receding into chestnut and black waves were now just dull mats. My recent weightlifting was not enough to carry this limp gal, and my shame at my disability swept over me once more.

But before you could say joint bank account, Heaven was skimming down the slope to help me, saving what little face I had left.

I said, “I see no blood. The asshole must’ve thought she was dead and dumped her with the rest. She climbed about twenty yards up that creek.”

“Can I help?”

I struggled to stand upright. “Maybe you can lift her head. Are her eyes open?”

“Yes!”

Heaven tucked my cane under her arm and raised the massive head. Even so, we struggled up the slippery rise and staggered back to camp. She cooed at the poor dog’s nose and squealed when the dog opened her mouth and licked her.

“If these were breeding dogs,” I said, “their legs are going to be somewhat lame. We’ll have to work to build her up.”

“That’s okay! I can do it! Just following me around in my chores should be enough for her.”

“If she lives, Heaven. In addition to weakness, she’s probably hugely malnourished.”

“We have all that great food for Linus and Beetle. In fact, you know what I’ll call her? Mickey Finn.”

“No!”

“Yes! This will show that I’m totally over what happened in Cornucopia. It doesn’t bother me to hear the words Mickey Finn all the time.”

I had to smile. “Okay, Heaven. Let’s not get carried away now. One step at a time.”

But I knew if Heaven had already named her, there was no going back on this puppy.