NCISLAMagazine Challenge 2

EVERY DOG HAS ITS DAY

Greenwood Heights: Gated Community

Callen exited the house that he and Tracy were staying in for their undercover operation. Turning left, he decided to take a leisurely stroll around the neighborhood and enjoy the warm summer evening. The houses were eighteen-thousand square feet cookie cutter homes with lush green manicured lawns. In one of those homes a suspected arms dealer.

Turning the corner at the cul de sac he stopped short; his ears picking up a noise coming from his left. It sounded like whimpering. Moving carefully toward the manicured bush, he peered around the leaves; his jaw dropping at the sight of a small dog. Bending down for a closer look, he noted that it was a French bull dog. It looked to be about four years old; its tan coat was shiny and healthy looking so obviously the little guy had been taken care of. There was no tag, but he reasoned that the dog belonged to one of the neighbors in the area.

"What's wrong buddy?" Callen asked, noting that the dog was holding his left paw against himself.

Callen gingerly stretched out his hand to him, "Don't bite me," he warned, taking the dog's paw into his hand. Examining closer he discovered a splinter sticking out of the top of his paw.

"Uggh, that's gotta hurt," he grimaced. Reaching in his back pocket, he pulled out his Swiss army knife. Flicking through the tools he found the implement he needed and began the task of removing the thorn. Five minutes later the splinter was removed, "There you go," Callen grinned. The dog seemed to look at him with gratitude and adoration in his big brown eyes.

"Come on buddy, let's get you home," Callen stated, gathering the dog in his arms before rising up to a standing position.


Callen went to the first house that was only a few feet from where he found him. Bounding up the walkway he stood in front of the double oak door. Ringing the doorbell he waited until he heard footsteps approaching. The door opened revealing a tall, brittle woman in her late-thirties, dressed in a white linen pantsuit. Her bottle blond hair swirled around her shoulders in loose waves. Icy blue eyes regarded him with a hint of interest.

"Sorry to disturb you. I'm your new neighbor, Steve Keller. My wife and I moved into the house down the street. Uh…I was taking a walk this evening when I found this poor little guy in the bushes," Callen explained, looking down at the dog that was leaning against him and panting happily, "I was wondering if maybe he belonged to you."

The blonde's nose turned up in distaste as she cast a glance at the animal, "I'm sorry, but I don't have a dog. My husband is terribly allergic I'm afraid."

"I understand. Sorry to have disturbed you," he apologized giving her his most charming smile.

"Sorry I couldn't be of more help. My name is Pamela Wainwright. Hope you find his owners and welcome to the neighborhood," she replied with what she probably thought was a flirty grin but actually resembled a pained grimace.

"Thank you and have a pleasant evening," He answered before turning away and heading toward the next house. Once he was out of earshot he lowered his head to the dog's ear, "Glad you don't belong to that creepy lady."

Each house he went to was the same thing:

-Oh he's so cute! Sorry he isn't ours.-

-We don't have a dog, but we do have a cat.-

-He's adorable; we've got two of our own. Afraid he's not one of ours.-

-What a cute little guy; sorry not mine-

After getting no results at the last house he made his way home.


"Where've you been?" Tracy questioned meeting Callen at the front entrance, "What is that?" her dark eyes zooming onto the dog lying in Callen's arms.

"It's a dog," he smirked.

"Cute. Where'd you find him," Tracy responded, placing her hands on her hips.

"Buddy here was hiding behind a bush a few blocks from here. Poor guy had a splinter in his paw. I was able to get it out. Then I went around the neighborhood trying to find his owner and had no luck. So I brought him home." Callen finished, giving Buddy a scratch behind the ears.

"That his name?" She asked, her perfectly arched eyebrow rising to her hairline.

Callen brought Buddy up to eye level and studied his face and decided that the name fit.

"He didn't have a name tag on him or anything, but I've been calling him Buddy," Callen explained as Buddy wagged his tail, "See, he likes the name."

"Callen…you're getting attached to him."

"Relax; I'll put out flyers tomorrow asking if anyone has lost a dog. He has nowhere else to go. We strays have to look out for each other… don't we boy," Callen finished putting the dog down on the floor.

"Well, he is cute so I guess he can stay. He could also be good for our cover," Tracy said, petting Buddy's head.

"Knew you wouldn't be able to resist," Callen stated chuckling, "I'm going to run out and get a few supplies for our 'guest'. Be good for Tracy. I'll be back soon," Callen said, going out the door before she could protest.


Callen pulled the car into the parking space near the Pet Smart. Once inside the store he walked up and down the aisles trying to decide what Buddy might need. He picked a food and water bowl, a sleep cushion, some doggie kibble, a leash, collar and a chew toy. Satisfied with his choices, he made his way to the checkout counter.

The checkout lady, whose nametag said Cyndi, looked over his purchases, "You have a lot of good stuff here," she commented ringing up the items, "Just got a dog, huh," she asked glancing up at him with a smile.

"You could tell that by what I bought," Callen wondered, curious as to how she knew.

"Well, that and the way you walked up and down the aisles going over everything on the shelves," she remarked ringing up the total, "That will be seventy-five dollars and thirty-four cents," Cyndi finished with a smile.

"Thanks," Callen replied making the necessary payment.

Cyndi put all the items in a bag, "Here you go, sir," she said pushing the bag toward him, "What's your dog's name if you don't mind my asking."

"It's Buddy," Callen answered grabbing the handles of the bag and taking it off the counter.

"Cool name. Have a nice evening."

"Thanks and you too," Callen replied taking his purchase and leaving the store.


By the time Callen got back to the house Buddy was waiting for him by the door. Tracy had already turned in for the evening.

"Come on boy," he instructed moving toward the kitchen. Buddy scampered behind him; his injured paw appeared to be fine now.

He placed the bag on the kitchen table. Reaching inside, he pulled out the food and water bowls and set them on the floor. Grabbing a pitcher off the counter, he filled it with cool water from the sink. Moving back to the bowls where Buddy sat on his hind legs watching him expectantly; Callen filled the water bowl to the brim. Placing the now empty pitcher on the table, he grabbed the bag of kibble from inside the shopping bag. Ripping it open, he poured the kibble into the food bowl.

Buddy attacked the food with gusto.

"You were hungry," Callen stated, wondering how long he'd been behind that bush.

Buddy lapped up the last of the food and the water before circling around and lying down on the floor in contentment. Callen bent down, picking up both bowls to carry to the sink and washing them thoroughly. Putting more water in the bowl, he placed it on the floor next to a now sleeping dog.

Callen put the sleep cushion on the floor; carefully picking Buddy up to place him on the soft mat. Gently patting the dog's head, Callen headed out of the kitchen to turn in for the night.


Two weeks and a hundred flyers later no one came forward to claim Buddy so Callen decided to keep him. One morning, Callen took a large metal tub out of the garage and filled it with warm, soapy water. Buddy sat on his hind legs eyeing him warily.

"Come on Buddy, you're starting to smell a little ripe now. It's not so bad, the water is all nice and warm," Callen coaxed in a reassuring tone moving closer to the dog.

Buddy took off like a shot just as Callen was about to reach down and pick him up from the floor.

"Dammit!" Callen exclaimed, running in the direction that the dog went. Buddy led Callen on a merry chase through the neighbors' back yards, a trellis and stomped through Mrs. Brown's flower garden, which Callen later apologized for. Buddy was about to enter the doggy door of someone's house when Callen grabbed hold of him.

"Phew! Now you really need a bath," Callen remarked, wrinkling his nose at the odor. When Callen finally reached his house, he put a struggling Buddy into the tub.

"That was probably the funniest thing I've ever seen," Tracy said, just barely containing her laughter.

"Ha. Ha." Callen replied with mock annoyance, soaping Buddy down, "Why didn't you help me."

"It was more fun to watch," she smirked, "I'm going to make lunch," she finished before turning to enter the house.

Callen continued to wash Buddy and then rinsed him off. His canine friend showed his thanks by shaking and spraying Callen with water droplets.

"Hey! I don't need a bath," he chuckled, lifting up his shirt and taking a whiff, "Then again maybe I do."

Picking up a towel, he began to dry Buddy off, "You know, I used to have a dog when I was younger… sort of. I think I was about twelve and stuck in one of the many foster homes I'd been in. Mr. and Mrs. Halliburton…both were drunks. They pretty much left me alone and I looked after myself and the other two younger foster kids they had. One day this dog followed me home…I don't know what breed; looked like a mutt. Anyway… I kept him hidden in the cellar; the Halliburtons never went down there. I'd give him water and food scraps. Sometimes we'd sneak out and play fetch or just lay out under the stars." He explained, finishing drying Buddy off, "One day the dog took off…don't know where. Just as well I was placed in another foster home the next week."

Buddy jumped up and started licking Callen's face as, if offering comfort, "Alright cut it out," Callen laughed, "Let's go inside and grab some lunch," Callen announced as both he and his canine companion entered the house.


It would be five months later when the case would be broken. Their neighbor Theodore Maxwell had been caught making a deal to trade arms with a Mexican drug cartel. Maxwell and his cohorts would be facing a lengthy jail time.

Not only was the case over but Tracy and Callen's marriage was over as well.

"Why do you get to keep Buddy? You don't even like him!" Callen demanded, feeling his blood pressure rise to the boiling point.

"Of course I like him, I love that dog!" Tracy countered, folding her arms over her chest.

"Then how come I was the one who always walked him; fed him and took him to the vet!"

"I walked and fed him plenty of times. Where would you keep him? Oh that's right you don't have a place do you?" She replied a smug grin forming on her face.

"That was a low blow," Callen growled, knowing she was right. There was no way he could keep a dog; not with his job and the amount of time he was on the road. He moved closer to where Buddy was lying on the cushion. Buddy looked up at him, confused at what was going on.

"I guess this is it. Be a good boy Buddy for Tracy; I'll miss you," Callen said giving the dog one last pat on the head. Buddy whimpered as if knowing his friend was leaving.

With a heavy heart, Callen picked up his bags and walked out of the house for the last time.

The end.

That was my contribution to the Challenge. Hope you liked it. I didn't think Callen would have a big dog so I made Buddy a small dog but at the same time one that would fit Callen.

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