Ol' Girl
She was instantly part of the family...
It was Kacey who wanted to get one. She begged and pleaded and moaned, along with her sister, Tina. They promised to clean up after its poop and bring it for grooming. They promised to sit in puppy training and help prepare the home. My wife batted her eyelashes at me. I practically had to say yes.
And then Lucy arrived and dug her way into the hearts of everyone. She instantly became part of the family. Saint Bernards are big, lovable teddy bears. Her tongue slopped out of her mouth, licking every inch of our faces. Every movie night, every birthday, every vacation, every holiday. She was there for every waking moment of their childhood.
It feels unnecessary to update you about the kids upholding their responsibilities. Or the life expectancy of the breed. You likely already have an idea…But what I can tell you is that we tried.
As the years went on, signs of aging began to slowly creep up. She tugged less enthusiastically on her toys. She seemed to push away her kibble more and more. We took to the easier trails around The Gully, where she was free to roam as she pleased. On one occasion, I had to lug her back. Imagine - all 120 pounds of wet fur. My back was out of commission for nearly a week.
My wife and I began preparing ourselves for the uncomfortable conversation…ten years went by in a flash. But what we found one evening on the laundry room floor knocked the words out of our mouths.
She had given birth.
The kids were ecstatic, running back and forth around the kitchen in a jovial circuit. My wife and I shared strained looks of disbelief.
One puppy. A boy.
There was a chance that somehow the neutering had failed…but at this age? Man, did it seem unlikely. Lucy’s face drooped down to the floor as the puppy yipped and sucked on her sagging nipples. We soaked up all of the vomit, fluids, and blood. The kids bombarded the blind little fluff ball, cradling the thing in their arms like a prize.
They named him Rocky.
Rocky was a wild one–rambunctious and excitable. Everything you’d expect out of a puppy. But I didn’t much care for his eyes. The way he would stare at me with those hollow black orbs just before he would refuse to listen. Rarely blinking. Potty training had been abysmal, as had the obedience classes. His balance–the way he would awkwardly shuffle with his thin little hind legs– seemed uncomfortable. The trainer told me to get him checked out, make sure his hips were setting okay, but I never got the chance.
The notification from our doorbell camera woke me up. I squinted in the darkness before jolting to my feet, scrambling for my housecoat and slippers.
I was too late.
Rocky was hanging from the side of Lucy, his jaw unhinged and wide as a bear trap. Teeth as long as fangs, rows of them like shark teeth, were sunk into her skin. His eyes popped out like two amphibious eggs. The old girl was whimpering. Bite marks covered the boy’s neck in deep slashes. Blood cascaded out of the wound like water from a faucet.
My first instinct was to fire up the truck and drive. I grabbed towels from the back seat and wrapped them around Lucy. I did the same with Rocky, leaving him covered in the back. And…I don’t know…I just drove.
Ripping it out of the city limits, the only car down the highway. The nearest vet was miles away. Lucy had lost a lot of blood, but the bleeding had seemed to cease. Rocky, on the other hand…
What could I tell my family? The truth would break my daughters’ hearts. Lucy would have to be put down. Dread surged through my veins as I imagined the conversation, losing two family members…like that.
A thud broke my train of thought. I killed the radio. From the reflection in the rearview, I could see the towels rising. Something stirred from the back of the pickup. Snarling. Those bloodshot black holes glared back at me, his jaw dangling to the floor.
Lucy began to wail.
I veered the truck off the highway. Pistol loaded in the glovebox.
I was going to save Lucy.
My God, I was going to try.