LITMIR.BIZ

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for Kelly and myself.

      “I wouldn’t leave that there if I were you,” Kelly warned.

      “It’s his. It’s bait. But Amos can’t have it until I’m ready to give it to him.”

      Amos eyed the sandwich, ignoring the much larger preparations right next to him. I saw a shift in his attitude. He checked to see if I was watching. Without turning I said sharply, “No! Leave it.” He backed off, disgusted with me. “Do you want lettuce? Tomatoes? Onions?”

      “Sure, you know I’ll eat anything.”

      As I worked I kept tabs on Amos. Every time he decided I wasn’t watching I’d remind him sharply, “Amos, leave it.” When the sandwiches were done I put them on plates and walked over to the bait. I picked it up and Amos looked hopeful. I tore off a small piece of bread for Shadow and placed the sandwich on the floor. “Wait. Stay,” I commanded. He wriggled in anticipation. I let him wait several very expectant seconds before releasing him with an “Okay!” Amos gulped the sandwich in one bite. Then I repeated the same command with Shadow and the little piece of bread.

      “I still haven’t figured out how much to feed him,” I said over lunch. “If I fed him whenever he acted hungry then the food would be gone. I know the instructions on the bag are always high. If I fed Shadow what the bag says to feed him he wouldn’t be able to walk. So I feed Amos a cup and a half twice a day and he still gets unhealthy amounts of people food, but it’s controlled amounts.”

      “How did you get him to quit stealing food?”

      “I can read canine minds and head off bad behavior before he can do it. You saw. You know your dog. You know when he’s planning something. So, nip it in the bud. Don’t even let him plan.”

      “Easier said than done.”

      “Half the training is for the dog. The other half is for the owner. Once you learn to watch and jump on bad habits he’ll listen to you, just like he does with me. You know, I had really only planned on letting Amos live in the house with us. I wasn’t planning on training him at all. I only trained him out of self-defense. It was train him or live in fear of him, so I buckled down and trained both of us. I think it’s about time I went back to the K-9 kennels. Maybe I won’t run when I see all the police dogs now.”

      “Why are you doing this? Most people would think, hey, I don’t see scary dogs that often. I can live with that. But you go out of your way to confront the one thing that scares you the most.”

      “I guess I’m just stubborn that way.”

      Kelly polished off his sandwich. “Are you sure you’re okay? Some of those spines were buried pretty deep.”

      “I know, it still stings like crazy. Thanks for coming out. I’m sorry I had to drag you away from work. I hope it wasn’t something important.”

      “I can catch up.”

      “Do you want some help? You can put me to work.”

      “No, just take care of yourself. Tell Rusty ‘hi’ when he gets home.”

      “Will do.”

      Kelly headed to work and I quickly put my jeans into the wash before Rusty could see them. Then I showered, trying to erase as many of the scratches and scabs as possible. I felt every one of the little scratches and puncture wounds when the water hit them. They stung like fire. I scrubbed anyway and by the time I was through I was exhausted. I’d had enough pain for one day and flopped down on the bed to rest. Amos walked over and dropped a tennis ball on my stomach.

      “You just don’t know when to stop, do you?” I scolded the dog.

      I had to admit, Amos didn’t strike fear into me whenever he approached. He was big and powerful, but he liked me and he trusted me and I was starting to feel the same way about him. He eyed my shoes sitting on the floor by the bed.

      “Leave it!” I told him and he lay down with a huff of disappointment.

      I was moving mighty stiffly when I got up to make dinner. Each little puncture wound rubbed my jeans the wrong way and I debated whether to change into shorts. I decided to put off the inevitable questions from Rusty and kept my jeans on. I made a simple meal of tacos, hiding the meat in the microwave and the toppings in the refrigerator until Rusty got home. I had a long list of things I was supposed to do that day but none of it sounded like much fun after taking a run through a cactus. I took the jeans from the washer and put them in the dryer and decided to ignore the list.

      Rusty came home and gave me a big hug and kiss just like usual. Then he went to his office to put some files away and then to the bedroom to hang up his coat and tie. I warmed up the taco meat again and started frying taco shells.

      “How was your day?” he asked.

      “You mean besides my daily disaster?”

      “No, including.”

      “Oh, then it was lousy. But now that you’re home it’s improving remarkably. How was your day?”

      “I got into a little bit of a sticky situation, but it all worked out.”

      “Sounds like my day too.”

      The evening was quiet and peaceful which left us wondering if perhaps too many of our evenings were becoming a bit too quiet and peaceful. Typically Rusty came home from work and we would eat dinner. Later Rusty usually went over some files from the station. I either worked with Shadow or Amos or found something else to keep me occupied. We decided, before heading for bed, that an evening in town was what we needed.

      That night I kept the lights dim hoping Rusty wouldn’t notice the hundred or so little puncture marks that covered my legs. I thought I’d managed to put off the inevitable until he wrapped himself around me and I gave a startled jump. Every time he touched a spot where we had pulled out a cactus needle it stung sharply.

      “Mmm, this isn’t the way you usually react to me,” he said softly.

      “Sorry, my sticky situation is telling on me. Where were we?”

      “We were going to turn on the lights so I can see what you’re hiding from me.”

      “Rusty, it’s not that big a deal.”

      “That’s the magic phrase that confirms my worries.”

      I’d have to remember not to say that again. He flipped on the light and I lay there in all my red, scabbed up glory.

      “Cassidy! What did you do today?”

      “I took Amos for a walk. We chased a rabbit.”

      “You look like you’ve got localized chicken pox.”

      “Okay, now that you’ve seen my legs and you know it’s nothing, lay down with me and I’ll tell you about it. By the way, Kelly says ‘hi’. I had to call him because Amos and I were covered in cactus needles. I felt so sorry for Amos. He didn’t understand what he’d done at all. One minute he was chasing a rabbit and the next he was full of cactus spines and he couldn’t move without them hurting. I had to pin him down so he wouldn’t hurt himself worse and then Kelly and I had to pull them all out.”

      “You felt sorry for the dog.”

      “Don’t worry so much. It was just a cactus.”

      “I’m calling Kelly in the morning. I want to know how much you’re not telling me.”

      “Please don’t. You’ll get mad at him, but he didn’t have any choice. You know I wouldn’t let him take me to a doctor. He tried, but I just started pulling them out myself, and he was forced to grab a pair of pliers

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