Page 27 of Hate the Game
I did just that as we went through a large kennel that was full of barking dogs that ran to the front of their little rooms to see us and as we went out through a back hallway. A tall, rough looking woman with cut-off jeans and a sleeveless beer shirt seemed almost relieved when she spotted Ryder.
“Ry. Thank fuck. This is going to be a rough one. The cops broke up a fighting ring a few weeks back and this guy had been fighting for a long time from the looks of it. He’s been at the vet since the rescue and he went to LaGrange but they couldn’t do anything with him. He bit two of them and wouldn’t evenlet their best people anywhere close to him. They recommended him for euthanization.”
I looked from Ryder to the van and then back to Ryder. The sounds coming from the inside of the van were terrifying. Ryder just looked determined, though.
“Name?”
Jillian grunted. “The vet techs were calling him Cujo apparently.”
Miss Kay patted Ryder’s shoulder. “Be careful, hon. You know I can’t watch this part. I’ll be inside.”
Ryder looked back at me, his face more serious than I’d ever seen it, which was saying a lot. “Stay back. If I say go, you go. No arguing.”
I nodded. I could listen when I needed to.
Jillian opened the back door of the van and the growling grew louder and angrier. It sounded vicious and I couldn’t help suddenly picturing Ryder getting attacked. My heart lodged somewhere in my throat as he slowly moved towards the cage that seemed to be barely holding the dog.
Jillian stepped back and let Ryder take over. She glanced over at me, and her eyebrows shot up like it was the first time she’d noticed me standing there. She just nodded and refocused on the dog.
Ryder approached slowly and spoke quietly. “Hey, man. I’m not calling you Cujo so we’re going to have to work out a new name for you. You’re a big guy, huh? And you’re pissed. I get it. I’m just going to sit here with you for a while. Let’s get to know each other before we involve ropes, huh?”
Jillian slowly stepped away. “You gonna relax there for a while?”
Ryder nodded and looked at me. “Go in with Miss Kay and let her find something for you. This is going to take a while. He’s terrified.”
I hesitated. “Are you okay alone?”
Jillian motioned for me to go in ahead of her. “He’s got this.”
“But-”
“We agreed that you wouldn’t argue, Savannah.”
I swallowed the rest of my worries and bit back a sigh. Without another word I headed back in with Jillian. She walked beside me once we were inside and frowned at me. I glanced back at the door as it separated us from Ryder. “I’m Savannah. A friend of Ryder’s.”
She grunted and I wondered if she was where Ryder got some of his grumpiness from. “You here to work or just look pretty?”
I flashed her a grin, unable to help myself. “You think I look pretty? Bless you.”
I saw her lip twitch and then she rolled her eyes and pushed into the hall of kennels. I followed her and stopped as she paused in front of a giant of a dog with long strings of drool dripping down from his jowls.
“This is Ginger. She needs some exercise in the play area and to be walked. Can I trust you with that?”
I watched Ginger watch me with curiosity and nodded. “Sure.”
Thirty minutes later I was covered in mud and exhausted from being dragged around by the strongest St. Bernard known to mankind. Ginger was a lovable beast who didn’t understand the job of a leash and had no interest in learning. I felt proud of how Ginger looked even more exhausted than me, though, and I faced Jillian proudly when we came back.
Jillian smirked when she saw me and pointed to the Mastiff next to Ginger. “Same deal but with Mikey this time.”
Mikey jumped up on the door to his kennel and barked directly in my face. Then he raised his leg and peed on my shoe.
I shot Jillian a look. “Didn’t California pass some kind of hazing law?”
That finally earned me a laugh. “Go on, Ryder’s friend. Mikey’s getting impatient.”
***Savannah***
Iworked my way through the wildest dogs and when Jillian had no more problem children to thrust upon me she had me start cleaning the kennels. Luckily, I wasn’t a stranger to getting my hands dirty. Even growing up in a rich household, I’d done my best to live at my friends’ ranches and farms when I could. I didn’t mind getting dirty and a little pee and poop weren’t going to break me. Dog shit was much smaller than cow shit so I was solid.
