I let them all out of their cages. One of the ungrateful curs bit me. Didn't break the skin, I had on new jeans and the dog was weak from starvation. They probably won't survive, but at least they stand a better chance now than they did in those cages.
It would be a waste of time at this point to check all the animal shelters. The only reason these survived as long as the did was a leaking roof let in just enough rainwater to keep them from dying of thirst.
The last one was a huge Rottweiller. A big, powerful dog. Even emaciated as it was I was glad I had brought my gun, a Beretta 9mm I had picked up recently. I opened the door and it she just looked me and wagged the little stump of a tail she had. At times like this I could understand why my sister had liked dogs so much. Most dogs will forgive any transgressions in exchange for a simple scratch behind the ears.
I eventually coaxed her out of the cage and out into the lobby where I had ripped open some bags of dogfood. This distracted her long enough for me to get back to my car.
In spite of the odds against it, I have a good feeling about her chances of survival.
Today was a good day. I haven't said that in a long time.
© 2009 R. Keith McBride