Chapter 14

I aimed a kick at the dog that had grabbed the little girl’s arm. My aim was good and I had some momentum when I connected with his ribs. The dog yelped as my hiking boot struck full force and he went flying. The little girl was dragged off her feet as the dog refused to relinquish its grip. Then, miraculously her jacket came off her arm, as all the dog had grabbed was sleeve. I quickly spun the girl around and pulled the other sleeve off her arm. My sudden appearance had caused the second dog to pause. Now he was advance toward the three of us growling low in his throat.

“Pick up the baby and start moving towards that red truck. Walk, don’t run, and I’ll stay between you and the dogs.”

I didn’t get a chance to see if she was complying because the first dog was on his feet now and both animals were advancing toward me. My brain flashed on this Animal Planet show about Jackals I’d seen as the two dogs separated and flanked me. The dog that I kicked was limping slightly. I tried to watch them both but I was more leery of the one I hadn’t kicked. So, of course, it was the gimpy one who launched himself at me and snapped at my arm. I spun away from him and jerked my arm back just as he bit down. Pain raced up my forearm as he took a chomp but luckily his momentum and my arm moving back didn’t let him get a good grip. Instead, he tore a couple of gashes in my arm about four inches below my elbow.

When the first dog was sailing away from me the second raced in and grabbed me by the calf. He had a good hold on me and was shaking his head violently. Jesus, that hurt like hell. I was trying to keep my balance and grab at the dog when help arrived from a most unexpected source. Eighty-five pounds of long eared hound barreled into the dog attached to my leg and sent us all three tumbling on the ground. As I got to my feet I saw that Shelia had backed my truck up and the woman and child were already in the cab. Both women were looking fearfully out the back window.

The pit bulls, almost genetically engineered for dog fighting, immediately ignored me and attacked Jethro. Jethro was big and game but was no match for the pit bulls. I waded in and tried kicking the dog I kicked before in the same place. I wasn’t able to get the same force in my kicks as I did the first time but I at least loosened his grip enough to pull him off Jethro by his choke chain. The second dog had Jethro down on his back and his teeth fastened to the big hound’s throat. I grabbed his choke chain as well but he hung on to Jethro tenaciously.

I was tugging furiously when I heard someone order, “Let him go son.”

I turned and saw a Deputy Sheriff off to my right with a Taser in his hand.

I let go of the dog on Jethro and took a step or two back. I still had the other dog dancing on his back legs as I held him off the ground by his choke chain. The deputy fired the Taser and the darts stuck in Jethro’s assailant near his neck. When the dog stiffened and howled I grabbed the loop on his choke chain and pulled him off Jethro. Jethro was covered in blood and was panting rapidly but the wide leather collar Papa had him outfitted with had kept his throat intact. The deputy quickly grabbed the dog I was restraining and called for animal control.

It only took a couple of minutes for the Animal Control Officer to arrive. Turns out she and the deputy both were in the vicinity of the park looking for these very dogs. The pair had killed some lady’s poodle about three blocks from here an hour ago.

It took the paramedics about five minutes longer to get there. One medic checked out the little girl while the other worked on me. I had received a few more bites trying to get the dogs off Jethro. As I was being treated I gave the deputy my personal information and told him what happened. The one paramedic quickly determined the little girl was uninjured and he and the animal control lady tended to Jethro. I refused an ambulance, promising the paramedics I’d go straight to the ER as soon as I took care of my grandfather’s dog. The animal control officer told me where the emergency vet was located and even called ahead for me. She helped me load Jethro onto the back seat of my truck. I sat and held him while Shelia drove us to the veterinarian’s office.

Thankfully, Jethro Pulaski, Polish Wonder Hound, wasn’t as badly injured as I thought. Oh, he needed some stitches and lost part of an ear, but it could have been much worse. I had called Katrina and Dad on the way to the vets. They arrived about fifteen minutes after we did. Katrina was livid that I was still at the vets and not at the emergency room. Dad shushed her but she was still fuming. Dad took charge of getting Jethro home and thirty minutes later Katrina, Shelia and I were at the ER. The adrenalin had worn off by then and my leg hurt like the dickens. The nurse at the ER desk parked me on a bench with some forms to fill out.

I had to wait an hour for my turn to be treated. A Nurse Practitioner took one look at my calf and zoomed out of the room in search of a doctor. It took twenty-five stitches, most of them in my calf, to get all my bites closed up. For good measure the doctor had administered a big shot of antibiotics right in my left butt cheek.

It was almost five when I was released from the ER. Katrina drove me to our grandparents’ then took Shelia to the park to get her car. Katrina also took the two prescriptions the doctor had given me to get them filled. He had prescribed some heavy-duty antibiotics and five days worth of Percodan. Shelia kissed me tenderly before they left. I told her how impressed I was at how she handled herself under pressure.

My dad asked me if I wanted him to stay and keep me company. I said that I was fine and for him to go on home.

I sat on the couch and put my left foot on the coffee table. I was feeling no pain because of whatever they gave me at the emergency room. Jethro limped over from his usual spot and gingerly lay down with his head on my foot. I couldn’t believe that he wanted to be near me after the crap I’d gotten him into today. The Doofus had been under my care for less than twenty-four hours and I had almost killed him already. What the heck was I going to tell Papa?

My cell phone rang while I was sitting there watching the news.

“Hello, Mr. Pulaski?” a soft feminine voice asked.

“This is Johnny Pulaski,” I acknowledged.

“Oh, hi, this is Kayla Thorpe, you saved my daughter and me in the park today. I got your name from the police, and your father gave me your cell number. I hope you don’t mind me calling. I don’t know how I could ever th-th-thank you enough,” she managed to say as she broke down in sobs.

“You just did,” I said soothingly. “How’s your little girl?”

She had regained her composure somewhat, “Emma’s fine. It happened so quickly she didn’t have much of a chance to get scared. I kept her from looking while you were being attacked.”

“That’s good, Mrs. Thorpe. I’m happy I could help.”

“I would like to thank you in person, Mr. Pulaski. Maybe you could come over to dinner with us one day this week.”

“Sure, Mrs. Thorpe, but not unless you call me Johnny.”

She laughed then, something about it sounded as if she didn’t do it much. “Okay, Johnny, and it’s Kayla to you.”

We worked out the arrangements and agreed on Wednesday evening at six. She gave me her address and phone number before we rang off. I was happy the little girl seemed to be taking the incident so well. It was very smart of her mom to keep her from seeing anything else.

The local news mentioned the two dogs and their rampage. The attack in the park was covered but my name was not. They ran an interview with the heartbroken lady whose poodle was killed and related that the owner of the dogs had yet to be located.

Katrina came in at seven, with three carry out pizzas from Pizza Hut and my prescriptions. She was also carrying her backpack. She took the pizzas to the kitchen and came and sat by me on the couch. Her face was a mask of concern. I think I liked it better when she was just angry with me. She pushed my hair back off my forehead with a touch so tender I involuntarily shivered.

“Are you doing okay Bro? I got here as quick as I could.”

“I’m fine Trina. That pizza smells good though, and I’m starved.”

She sprang off the couch. “Stay right there and I’ll bring you some. I got you meat lovers with jalapeno peppers, I hope you still like that. Oh, and I brought a meat lovers for Jethro, I figured he deserves it.”

Hell yeah, he deserved it! Jethro ambled to his feet when Katrina put the open pizza box down in front of him. Jethro loved people food and getting it was a rare treat for him. Whatever damage the pit bulls had done to him didn’t affect his appetite in the slightest as he shoved the pizza box across the hardwood floor to get every crumb. Katrina and I sat on the couch and ate pizza off the coffee table. She offered me a piece of hers and I almost gagged. Who in their right mind would cover a pizza in fruit and veggies? Geez, you could graze out on the lawn and get the same green ick. A pizza wasn’t a pizza unless two or three mammals sacrificed their lives for it.

I ate with about as much gusto as Jethro. I had been famished because my carefully selected subs were still untouched in my truck. When I finished eating, Katrina took the plates and pizza boxes back to the kitchen. When she came back she sat down next to me again.

“Johnny, I’m sorry I got mad at you today. I just hate the idea of you being hurt and too stubborn to get treated. I’m also very proud of you, that was a very brave thing to do. It bothers me sometimes that all the best men are Pulaskis and off limits to me.”

I hugged her to me and kissed her hair. “How do you think I feel having the smartest, sexiest woman in the world next to me right now and she’s my sister?”

She liked that and snuggled up tighter against me. It was great sitting there with her, mindlessly watching the tube. At nine we watched ‘Desperate Housewives’, her favorite show. That Teri Hatcher was a hoot. When the show was over I asked her if she was headed home.

“Nope, I’m your nurse tonight.”

“I appreciate the offer Trina but I can manage okay. Besides, I don’t want to make you miss out on one of your few nights here.”

“I want to be here, Dummy, so shut up about it. Anyway, I won’t have to worry about doing it again tomorrow, because once the news gets out women will be fighting for a chance to take care of you.”

I didn’t want to argue with her over something she was obviously determined to do.

“Okay, Nurse Ratchet, first order of business is figuring out how I’m going to take a shower without getting these bandages wet.”

“You know the doctor said no shower until Tuesday, Baby Brother, so don’t try to pull something on me. You can wash yourself in the sink and I’ll wash your hair. How’s that?”

I huffed a big sigh. “Darn, I was hoping you’d take a shower with me to insure I didn’t fall or anything.”

She laughed and punched my arm playfully. “Maybe next time. Can you walk or do I need to help you?”

We figured out a system where Katrina brought a chair into the bathroom and I bathed in the sink. I managed to get all the dried blood off me, as well as most of the betadine solution that they’d slopped on me. When I was finished scrubbing myself the best I could, I put on a clean pair of black boxer briefs and called Katrina in to try the shampoo thing. I gotta tell you that her strong fingers working the lather into my scalp felt terrific. When we exited the bathroom we hit a snag about sleeping arrangements. Neither of us was about to sleep in my grandparents’ bed and the guest room was the only other room set up as a bedroom.

I said I’d sleep on the couch, and she said no, she would. After some back and forth, Katrina held up her hand.

“Listen, it’s stupid for either of us to sleep on the couch. I’ll just sleep here with you, that way I will already be here if you need anything.”

“Okay, but no stealing the covers and keep those big, cold Polish feet off of me.”

She laughed and headed to take a shower, lucky girl, while I let Jethro out to do his business. I fixed Jethro up by bringing his doggie bed into the guest room and putting it at the foot of the bed. He plopped down, cranked out a huge yawn, and went to sleep. I was reading when Katrina came back to the bedroom. Her nightwear consisted of a tee shirt that barely covered her tush.

“I stole this shirt out of your dresser, guess I should have checked the size,” she said sheepishly.

I guess she should have; it was an AC/DC concert shirt I got when I was fourteen and was about half the size I was now.

When she walked past me I could see her butt cheeks. “Ah Trina, I think you forgot your undies,” I said.

She giggled and flipped up the back of her (my) shirt. “Nope, t-back, do you like it? I just started wearing these a few months ago under my dress uniform because they don’t leave panty lines.”

“Oh, good idea,” I said intelligently.

She slipped under the covers and grabbed a magazine off the nightstand. She wiggled around a bunch then slid further under the covers. Next thing I know she whips the t-shirt out from under the covers and tosses it across the room.

“That’s much better,” she sighed, “I was losing circulation in that thing.”

Since she was completely covered from the neck down I just grunted and kept reading. I was just getting towards the end Reed Arvin’s ‘Blood of Angels’. The part where the strange, sexy minister named Fiona Townes was about to jump the hero’s bones. I liked Reed Arvin’s work, although I thought he might, at least once in a while, let the hero keep the girl. By the time I finished the book, Katrina was sleeping soundly with her back to me. I turned off the bedside lamp and turned on my side away from her. I was asleep before my head hit the pillow.

I woke up the next morning as Katrina was trying to quietly get out of bed. I rolled over and looked at her forgetting she was topless. She tried grabbing the covers but they were tucked under me. Finally she just shrugged and walked over to her backpack. I couldn’t decide which view I liked better as she rooted around in the pack for a shirt. She found a shirt but turned towards me to put it on. When it dropped in place she put on a pair of her infamous silk boxers, this pair yellow, with a huge smiley face on the front. She looked at me with this evil leer.

“Okay now you get up,” she said.

I tried to stammer out an excuse because I was sprouting major morning wood. Seeing Katrina that way made it one of those mornings when Kong was so hard, the neighbor’s cat could have sharpened its claws on him. Katrina knew enough about men to know my condition. She just stood there.

“I’ll stand here until you pee the bed,” she said with a smirk.

Knowing she had me, I groaned and swung my legs out of bed. A tongue of fire raced up my leg from my calf as soon as I set my left foot down. I groaned but determinedly took a step. Katrina’s face lost its smug grin as she jumped over and took my arm.

“It’s okay Trina, I think I’m just stiff,” I said.

She giggled and looked down where my shorts were tented. “I’ll say,” she quipped.