The next morning, Fido had to get up early for his morning shift at the police station. But what happened the night before has stayed with him ever since they dropped that dog off at the vet. And he'd have been lying if he said he didn't lose sleep over it. While everyone else was dead in their beds, he was just lying in his, thinking about that dog. Thinking and subsequently getting frustrated again with not having answers to the questions he'd been thinking.
Fido released a large yawn as he entered the kitchen, covering it with his paw. "Did ya even sleep at all last night?" the wise-cracking mouse, Spo, who was hitching a ride on Fido's head, asked. "Or were you thinking about that pup you told me about? You're not one to lose sleep like this." Fido didn't reply as he poured some oats on the table for Spo to eat, and then grabbed a bowl and some "Canine Cibble" for himself. He let Spo down onto the table then went to his own breakfast. "Even without Sabrina shelling off injured animals for you to-"
"That dog wasn't injured. He was neglected," Fido replied bluntly, giving Spo a stern stare. Spo jumped at bit at Fido's tone and quietly went to eat some oats. Fido came back to his senses, shook his head and sighed. "Sorry, Spo… I didn't mean to snap at you like that… It's just…"
"Hey, don't worry about it. You do what you gotta do," Spo said back. "Besides, you put up with me all the time, so you're allowed a snap every once-in-a-while." Spo grinned wide and went back to eating his oats.
Fido formed a slight smile too, returning to his breakfast as well. They finished up and Fido went back downstairs to grab his K-9 vest and equipment. As he was attaching his collar radio, the phone in the house started to ring. There was a phone down with him, so he answered it quickly. "Byron residence."
"This is the River Ridge Veterinary Clinic. Is this Fido Byron?" the voice on the other end of the line asked.
Fido tensed up a bit, not expecting anything from this call. "Yes, this is him. This is about that dog, correct?"
"Yes. You requested a report? Well, I have good news. He wasn't in as bad a shape as we initially thought. He was just a bit hungry, and that's basically the worst of it. His fur was just in a bad shape because of the weather – all the snow catching and melting in his fur. We gave him a bath and set him in a bed with some food and water. He woke up early this morning and ate a bit, then went back to sleep. He's still asleep now." Fido's tail started to wag hearing that the dog was healthy. "But… he hasn't said a word to anyone here. He just avoided us all when we tried to approach him."
And hearing that ceased Fido's tail-wagging. "Oh… Do you think it's alright if I stopped by and tried to talk with him?"
"Yes, that should be no problem. We'll be keeping him here for another night, just to make sure he's at one-hundred percent, but he'll be transferred to the animal shelter afterwards."
"Right. I'll be stopping by today. Thanks for the report," Fido replied.
"There's a physical copy waiting for you here. We'll see you soon." The vet hung up the phone and Fido put the phone back on the dock. His mind was racing again. Half of him was thankful the dog wasn't severely injured or anything, but the other half was wondering what psychological trauma the dog may have. If he actively avoided those trying to help him, maybe there's still something behind the scenes he doesn't know about. All Fido can do is hope that there's something he can do to help this dog.
He snapped out of his trail of thought and remembered he still had another obligation. He was a K-9, and he had a morning shift. Bill would no doubt be coming by soon to pick him up and take them to the station. He finished attaching his collar radio, straightened his vest out, slid his sunglasses on his head, and then grabbed a K-9 heavy coat as well. Knowing Bill… he'll probably be coming in his motorcycle. He's the only one insane enough to drive one in winter.
Fido heard a knock at the door and hurried up the stairs. He grabbed his lunch and out of instinct told Spo not to get into any trouble. Outside was Bill, ready with his motorcycle…
The entire morning passed as smoothly as ever for Fido. He really didn't need to be there, because the only activity he got was the overzealous car driver trying to get last-minute Christmas gifts. It wasn't long until their lunch break, which Fido requested he be dropped off at the vet clinic. Now was as good a time as ever to finally meet up with that dog.
As Fido entered the clinic, the receptionist hailed him instantly. "A police dog coming in today – You're Fido Byron, yes?" Fido nodded and walked over to the counter. She reached into a drawer and pulled out a file. "Here's that report you requested. There's not much in there to point towards neglect, I'm afraid. At least, that's my opinion."
Fido took the report and started to skim it. As much as he hated to admit it, she was right, on some level. Reading the report, for all he knew, this dog could just have run away from home, ditched his own tags, or some other happening. The only thing that didn't fit was his unusual shyness, and even that could be attributed to something else. But he wouldn't know for sure unless he talked to him. "Where is he now?"
"Recovery room 1C. He was moved to a full bed when he first showed signs of nervousness. We hoped the larger room over the standard caged plots would help him calm down some." She wrote down Fido's info and destination on a card, handed it to him, and pointed toward a set of doors. "Here's your pass and head down that hallway and to the right. Third door on the left."
"Thanks," Fido replied, taking the pass. He followed the instructions and soon came to recovery room 1C. His heart started to race as he slowly opened the door. The room was pretty decent sized, for a recovery room. A TV on the wall, a window that had its shades shut, and a single bed, occupied by the dog Fido and Ryan nearly hit.
Fido closed the door and took off his jacket and vest, setting them on a chair. He also unclipped his radio and put it on the chair as well. He dropped the file on the dog onto the counter walked over to the still sleeping dog. He was on his side, facing away from the door and Fido, half covered by the blankets.
Fido finally got a good look at the dog, now not having anything else to worry about. He was smaller than he, but was nowhere near as tiny as that corgi. He may have been a bit smaller than Fido's younger brother, Joey. His fur was a deep brown, almost chocolate, colour with a few faded, black spots along his back. His belly held a slightly lighter tuft of brown fur, and his muzzle took that same colour of fur. One thing's for sure: he really needed that bath.
But there was one thing that really caught Fido's attention. On his right ear, there was a straight slit of a scar running down it. He didn't peg this dog as a fighter; he was too small! And the scar was too straight to be from a fight wound. But maybe it's something unrelated as well. He'll ask about it only if necessary.
Remembering about the dog's displays of anxiety, Fido wondered how he could awaken this dog without scaring the living daylights out of him. He looked across the room to the window still covered by shades and smiled. What better way to awake than by nature itself? He strolled over to the window and slowly opened the blinds, as to not blind the dog with a sudden flash of light. The view outside the window overlooked the road and beyond that was a line of trees, laden with freshly fallen snow. The skies had definitely cleared up from that storm the night before, and the sun was shining brilliantly, reflecting off the snowy ground and trees.
Fido got so lost in the sight that he didn't notice the dog had started to awaken, the light drawing him away from his sleep. His eyes fluttered open, and all he could see when he awoke was bright with a dark figure cut out on one side. The dark figure immediately registered, and he shot awake, sitting up and wanting to just run from whoever that was… but didn't when his eyes focused and saw the figure was just staring out the window. His eyes trailed to the outside too, focusing on all the same brilliance Fido was seeing.
A squeak from the bed snapped Fido out of his trance and slightly turned his head, smiling. "Hello there. Wonderful day today, isn't it?" Fido turned his head back to looking through the window. "Nothing like it was last night, that's for sure."
The dog tensed up a bit. "Who… are you?" he tentatively asked.
Fido turned back around and sat on one of the chairs near him. "Fido. Fido Byron. My dad and I were the ones who found you freezing your tail off in the snow last night. You passed out, so we brought you here." The dog started to tense up again and started to shiver as well. "Hey… you alright?"
That night was flashing in the dog's mind, as it had done so many times before. "A car… almost hit me… Was that… you?"
Fido's ears dropped a bit. "…Yes, but we didn't see you. The roads were slick, visibility was poor. In such a raging storm, we weren't expecting anyone to be on the roads." The dog just turned his head from Fido, causing him to feel a pang of guilt. He didn't expect this kind of reaction at all.
"…Why are you here?" the dog asked, turning his head back towards Fido.
"Why am I here? Because there was a dog in need that I had to assist. And I'm not going to just drop that dog off at the vet and forget about him." Fido brought a chair up next to the bed. "So what was the deal? Why were you out on the streets hungry and with such matted fur?"
The dog tensed again before looking away. "I'm… just… another stray…" he replied.
Fido's brow furrowed, and he gave a stern look back. "I'm sorry, but I can't believe you're just 'another stray.' Strays don't normally have collars in as good a shape as yours is. So you've either been abandoned or you've ran away. Those are my guesses."
"I… found the collar. I've never had a… home or a family, so I wasn't abandoned or… ran away," the dog replied, stuttering at points. He turned his head away from Fido again and sniffled a bit.
"I still don't believe you," Fido said back. "There's something else going on here, but I won't ask again. You're too shaken up right now." Fido stood up and placed his paw on the dog's shoulder. "But whatever it is, I'm sure I can help you through it." Fido grinned wide and gave a thumbs-up with his other paw.
"Thanks…" he turned his head away, "..but it's not needed. I'm fine."
Fido gave the dog's shoulder a few pats. "I think we both know that's a lie, but alright. There's still one thing I can help you with, though. As the 'stray' that you are, you'll be sent to the shelter after another day here, or less if they know you're healthy enough. But instead, why don't you come live where I do, in our neighborhood? I know those who currently run the place, and I'm sure they'll be able to find a room for ya. And hey, if you decide quickly enough, I may be able to get your name in our 'Good Ol' Dogs Club' Secret Santa gifts. We won't burden you with someone, but I'm sure one of us would be able to get something for ya!"
The dog just stared, dumbfounded by Fido's proposition. "You'd actually be able to get me… a home? And I wouldn't… have to do anything?"
Fido nodded his head. "Yup. You wouldn't have a 'family,' per se, but a home, food, and the company of great friends. And no obligations. There are a lot of other dogs and cats who live in Babylon Gardens. You'd fit in just fine."
The dog, for the first time since talking with Fido, smiled. "That sounds-"
A static noise from across the room cut the dog off. "Dispatch to Officer Fido, please respond." Another bit of static followed.
"Gah, hold on…" Fido went over to the chair he set his radio on and clicked the button. "This is Officer Fido."
Static. "We've got a 16-55 near your area. Respond and deal with them." More static.
"A 16-55? Oh, you've got to be kidding me…" Fido said, a paw on his face. He clipped the radio back onto his collar before turning his head. "Sorry, I gotta go take care of this… Hey, you alright?"
The dog was frozen in place, just like he had acted the night before. "You're… a… police dog?"
"Yes, I am… Is that a problem?" Fido replied, slightly worried.
The dog snapped out of his freeze and waved his paws in front of him. "N-no! No problem at all, hehe…" but he knew he wasn't fooling Fido.
"I'll ask another time," he replied, sliding his jacket on. "Well, I have to get going... Hey, y'know, I never did ask your name."
"My name? Oh, it's Ar-" he hesitated, tensing up again. He looked to his left, towards the window. "…It's Art…"
Fido finished writing something down on a scrap piece of paper. "Art, eh? Alright, here." He handed the paper to Art. "It's the number to call if you want to come live in Babylon Gardens. I'll let them know to possibly expect a call from an 'Art' and fill them in." Fido headed toward the door but turned his head. "Be seeing ya around, Art." And with that, Fido left.
Art just stared at the paper Fido gave him. 'A home… Friends… No worries… Could this really be true?' he thought to himself. And it seemed like there were no strings attached, either! He looked back at the door, to the paper, to the door, then to the window, and scratched his ear. He held the paper close to his chest before lying back down.
A small sniffle escaped from his nose, followed by a sob.