The Dirty Part

Chapter Five

The sound came again and Joann whipped around, eyes wide in fright, trying to see its source. It rang out, louder, but she couldn't see anything. Her back hit the wall and she leaned back with all her might, body rigid, hands clenched into tight fists. What if he had found her? What if Jason didn't come back any time soon? What if...

She couldn't finish the thought. Joann felt her butt hit the ground as she shut her eyes tight, tears burning behind her lids. Her knees were tucked tight against her chest, her arms trembling holding them. Her head whirled with dread and confusion and panic. It was too much. She couldn't move. She should've known. It had already been too good for too long.

Suddenly there was a clatter of something hitting the floor. She jumped, heart thumping wildly, pumping fire through her veins. In the next instant, she had to hold her breath. There was a sound that she would recognize anywhere, even in her fear driven frozenness. Her head sprang up and she stared in awe.

Around the corner from the living room came the lankiest puppy Joann had ever seen. It was clearly mixed with some sort of hound. One long ear flopped downward, yet the other stood out to the side. It massive feet and strong spindly legs suggested either Great Dane, or mastiff influence. The shape of its face couldn't been collie-ish were in not for the face markings somewhat like a Rottweiler, or pit bull perhaps. Its body had dense shaggy patchwork of brown and black and white fur. In two massive bounds it was across the floor and leaping for her.

Joann let the puppy throw all its body weight on her and knock her on her side. One hand came up weakly to try and shield herself as it began to furiously lick at her face. Warm drool soon coated her cheek and neck and finally she pushed it away, sitting up in a daze.

For some reason Jason Macke had an enormous puppy roaming his house. Shakily she got to her feet, still recovering from the shock of it, and trying to wrap her mind around the matter. She had grown far too scared and weak. No wonder she was at her wit's end all the time.

Peering into the living room she saw there had been a small puppy pen set up, with newspapers strewn messily underneath it, but an entire side had been knocked over. Clearly Jason did not have much experience with puppies, or at least not much luck with this one.

Kibble was spilled across the carpet along with an overturned water dish. She could see it had escaped before by looking low at the legs of the tables and couches that were marked and chewed.

"Good Lord," she muttered. The puppy wagged its tail with such force its whole body wiggled as it jumped up at her. Already it was nearly up past her knees.

"You're an Atlas," she said wonderingly, creasing her brow. In Greek mythology Atlas was the titan of strength that held the celestial spheres together. The big puppy's paw steps were heavy as he bounded across the room then back again.

Joann put a hand to her forehead. Her list of duties for the day had clearly just grown. At least she had grown up with dogs and always loved animals of all kinds. She worked at the local vet's office as often as she could, but they had nothing for her to do this week. Slowly the tension began to ease back out of her body, trickling out from her fingertips. She rubbed Atlas's ears absently and turned, mind thick with thinking.