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Post by MACABRE. on Jan 17, 2012 20:52:08 GMT -5
It was very rare for the vet to make a personal call out to collect an animal first-hand, usually this task being left to the field investigators who make this their careers but the fates had decided that he was to drive out to Dallas and collect a young male pitbull who was currently sharing a pen with his un-spayed mother and two other dogs – not a good idea for a dog that had come from a fighting background. The journey itself took about four hours and he could feel the tension in his stomach as he drove up the tarmac driveway towards the metal-shelled shelter. Turning off the ignition he fingered his med box gingerly as if to remind himself that there was first aid in there if things were to turn nasty. He knew fighting dogs having operated on them before and he knew that often they had male-bonding issues.
With one deep breath he got out the car and headed for the door.
It smelled like dog food and cheap cleaning products and the reception was cosy with its faded green seating and plastic plant in the corner. A middle aged woman greeted him and took the paperwork, disappearing into the back for a few minutes. Without thinking he sat down and looked at his watch – almost 3 o’clock so he was early but apparently early was not a bad thing for the smiling little face he was about to meet. The first thing he heard was the scrambling of blunt claws against linoleum and the panting of one eager pup. Reaching out his hand, the pup licked at it like it was chocolate ice-cream before devouring his face in a sea of tongue and love. The vet proceeded to pat the little pit happily, fending off his loving attacks all the while trying to get the taste of chicken and liver out of his mouth. This little man seemed unfazed and continued to ‘attack’ until Martin took his leash and was led through the doors towards his van… like the pup knew the way.
He rounded the back, preparing to get a crate ready for this little mite but the dog had other ideas and headed straight for the passengers seat, tail wagging as if questioning why this silly human wanted to ride in the boot. Four hours… he was not going to have a moments peace but true to his placid nature, this little fighter sat quietly the whole way, prompting Martin to give him his first name – Hitch.
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