Page 45 of Taming Georgia

“Yeah.”

I want to tell her that she doesn’t need to worry about Cooper or his heart. He’s mine, and I’ll take care of him. Yet I know she was just being kind, and if I were to comment, I would only be acting like an asshole—which I’m trying hard not to do—so I don’t say anything.

Cooper starts whining and pulling his leash.

“What is it, boy?”

I allow him to pull me where he wants me to go, and we end up about a half a block down from Mark. Cooper looks to me and then looks down an alleyway behind some restaurants.

“What is it? Did you see something?” I ask him.

“What is it?” Georgia whispers behind me, startling me.

I didn’t realize she’d followed.

“I don’t know. Hold Cooper.” I hand her his leash.

I hesitantly make my way down the alley. I look behind the trash cans and in all of the crevices between the buildings. I don’t see anything. I start walking toward the street when I hear something scratch against metal beside me.

To my right, there is a large green dumpster. I open the thick plastic lid, and my heart sinks. It doesn’t matter how many rescues I do; it always breaks my heart.

“It’s okay, baby. I’m here to help you.”

I motion Georgia down and pull my cell out of my pocket.

I call Ethel. “Hey, are you in the office? Okay. Can you bring the van down to Fourth Street to the alley entrance right next to the parking structure? Yeah. Make sure there’s a crate in the back. Thanks.”

“What is it?” Georgia asks.

I nod toward the dumpster, and she looks inside, bringing one of her hands up to her mouth with a gasp.

Tears fill her eyes. “What is wrong with people?”

“I ask myself that every day. Can you run and ask Mark if he has a pocketknife in his backpack? I don’t have anything on me to cut that off of her mouth.”

“Sure.”

“You can just leave Cooper here.”

She drops his leash and runs out of the alleyway.

I turn an old metal garbage can upside down and place it outside of the dumpster. I jump on top of it and crawl in. The large bin is empty besides the dog. At least the dumbass who did this threw her away after the garbage was picked up and not before.

She cowers in the corner, her eyes full of fear.

“I know you’re scared. Humans haven’t been good to you, have they? You don’t have to be scared anymore.”

She’s an all-black pit bull. Her body is covered in puncture wounds. Her ears have been hacked off with a dull blade. She has duct tape wrapped so tightly around her snout that it’s cutting into her skin. The edges of the tape are red with blood.

“Here.” Georgia reaches over and hands me a small knife.

I take it and slowly inch toward the frightened animal with my palm out. “Shh. You’re okay. I’m going to help you.”

I pet her head and notice a small twitch of her tail. I smile. “Yeah, that’s it. Good girl.”

I pet her a little more, making sure she knows that I’m not going to hurt her. Then, I work at cutting the tape from her muzzle.

“I’m sorry. I know. I’m almost done.”

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