Physical Forces by D.D. Ayres

Author:D.D. Ayres [Ayres, D.D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin’s Press
Published: 2017-05-29T18:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Keeping her quarry in sight, Macayla let out the neck loop of her slip lead until it was nice and big. She crouched down on the side of the highway just on the other side of the guardrail, making herself as small as possible, and swiveled her body sideways so that she didn’t present an aggressive stance. A trainer once told her that, to a frightened dog, a human stranger with arms extended or held wide looked like a grizzly bear on his hind legs. She needed to look small and nonthreatening so that the poor animal would come close enough to sniff and realize she was sending out only friendly pheromones.

The Boxer was a beauty, with a golden coat and white stockings, spattered now with mud from his time on the loose. He’d been sighted by a jogger wandering along U.S. Highway 19 in Pinellas Park, near Gateway Center Boulevard. When she arrived he’d been in the median of a six-lane traffic area, probably trying to scent his way home. His owner said he’d been missing for two days.

Luckily the worst of the evening rush hour was over. The early-evening sky was still bright enough for her to see clearly. With two truckers who stopped to help, she had been able to herd the dog across the road into a park-like area. She’d thanked them and said she had it from here. Too many captors might spook the Boxer, who had the look of a runner.

At the moment, the dog was standing in the grass by the concrete culvert that ran under the highway. With its neck stretched, head held high, and hind legs braced, it projected what Macayla thought of as a racehorse pose. Just from watching his graceful power, she would have guessed without being told by the owners that the Boxer was a prizewinning show dog.

She tossed a treat to land in the middle of the distance separating them.

“Okay. Big fella. It’s okay.” She kept her voice low and pitched deeper than normal in order not to fuel his agitation. Her tosses were slow and light. No sudden movements to frighten the dog.

He came forward to sniff the treat when a raccoon suddenly waddled out of the opening of the culvert. The Boxer stopped short and barked in surprise.

The raccoon, intent on reaching the treat, hissed and arched its back. The Boxer barked wildly as the raccoon approached, running back and forth. But the other animal kept coming until it made a sudden leap and slapped the dog on the nose using its razor-sharp claws. As the Boxer yelped and danced away, seeking shelter in the opening tunnel of the culvert, Macayla jumped up and threw a handful of shoulder gravel at the raccoon.

“Go! Shoo! Bad raccoon!”

The raccoon made a quick waddling turn to face her and rose up on its hind legs. With its signature face mask and razor-blade claws, it looked like a miniature bandito ready to rumble. Mac readied her loop in one hand as she reached for the pepper spray hanging from her utility belt with the other.

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