Saturday, May 1, 2010

Devil Dogs

Another near death experience where good wins out over evil!

A-71 slows down and pulls slowly into the side street behind the sleazy motel. As the drizzle of the rain falls on the windshield I tell my partner , Dave to drive slow and keep your eyes peeled. I sense with my Jedi power his presence and know he is close... gates of hell close. Slowly we pull up to the inconspicuous Mobile home and I find my self thinking back to my last "dance with death" not more than three weeks ago. The call came in as a female who fell and couldn't get up. At 2:00 PM that's code in Kent for DWF (drunk white female). After helping "Charlotte" up off the floor from her alcohol induced collapse and placing her on the couch we proceed to say our good byes when from outside Scotty and I hear an unnatural inhuman noise with scratching on the trailers walls. Using the Vulcan death grip we bring our patient back to consciousness and ask her to identify the noise. She smiles, brushes my leg with her hand and invites me over for dinner and cocktails... minus the dinner. Throwing caution to the wind we quickly exit the residence and walk the "green mile" to the exterior wood gate knowing at any moment that the "noise" could attack. Scotty walks through the gate of freedom and I having held my breath the whole way let down my guard and relax expelling the fear ridden air from my lungs. Then suddenly...BAM... I felt a muscle tearing pain from behind the right knee shoot through my rather muscular leg causing me to drop like a Redwood. Stunned, blind but alert I find myself laying on the ground with my mind screaming for an answer of WHAT HAPPENED and WHY AM I BLIND? Realizing that my eyes are closed I slowly open them only to look up into what can only be described as the eyes of Satan's Spawn. Call it the grace of God, call it spidey sense, I discovered I had not put away the metal clipboard in the "jump kit" but instead held it in my right hand as I walked out through the DMZ. With lightning like reflexes I quickly parried Devil Dogs yellow fangs as he tried to deliver the final death bite where upon his fetid maul clamped down on cold steel bending it like a pretzel. Frustrated and confused from his failure to rend flesh from my bones I sensed this was the exact moment to use my "urban dog tactic training" and so pointed and yelled "squirrel". Just like the SWAT instructor said the foolish creature looked where I pointed giving me the precious seconds needed to make good my escape.

And so here I am back only this time I know the enemy within. My new partner Dave innocently approaches the wood gate and just before unleashing the Hound of Baskerville I scream...WAIT!! Startled but trusting my vast years of experience pad wan Dave asks "what is wrong master?" It is that moment that from behind the gate we see what appears to be two points of Master Mahans pitch fork appearing intermittently breaking the fences horizon and my blood freezes as I realize its not the fork of "pain and dispare" but the tip of Devil dogs ears that appear to have calcified and have taken on the shape and density of the horns of Lucifer himself. Knowing that "Charlotte" is unconscious on the floor and another life is crying out to be saved, it was not a question of "do we go in" but "when". With life in the balance I request a "Code 3" (firefighters life in imminent danger) and give a brief description of the situation and confirm to dispatch that this is the "Devil Dog" as sketched by an artist from my prior assault while recovering in a hospital. And so with Adam 12 on the way Dave and I patiently wait when from the inside of the trailer we hear a crash, scream, and a groan. (Later we discover Charlotte dropped her Vodka and the loss caused her to scream as it hit the floor and she moaned as the contents soaked into the foul stained carpet.) But not knowing this and thinking a life was in peril we made the fateful decision to go in without backup. Suddenly like a sun in nova I had the brilliant idea to grab the three gallon pressure water extinguisher to use in our defense. Approaching the gate I went to put on my helmet when a voice in my mind said, "Keith...use the force." Tossing my helmet to the side I had Dave pull open the locking latch and advancing I mentally reviewed the PASS technique and without mechanical assistance Pulled the pin, Aimed at the Devil Dogs uvula, and squeezed the trigger while sweeping from left rear molar to right rear molar. Startled Devil Dog was bowled over backwards and like Teddy Roosevelt's charge up San Juan Hill I pressed my advantage. The inhuman little Curr knowing it was time to retreat so it could rend another day, evaded the killing squirt and ran around the back of the trailer. There I stood holding the "thin red line" when from my rear I felt the warm breath of deaths door from none other than another creature from the bowels of Hell. Yes you guessed it there was not one but two servants of the evil master and seeing a brief glimpse of the dogs rear end I knew this had to be "She Devil Dog". Yes Devil Dog had a female partner and with her man on the run she was coming at me like a wall of flame fanned by the fires of perdition. Pivoting like Jason Bourne I brought the extinguisher to bare and let go its cold flame quenching fluid only to find that unlike her evil male counter part she just kept coming with jowls wide open. Seeing my life flashing before my eyes I screamed at Dave to run for cover and said if I don't make it, "tell MarLa I love her!" Just before the She Devils final leap for my throat with her red hot glowing charcoal briquette sized brain hoping to make me a neck breather Officer Sniper arrived out of no where and from a rolling position discharges his tazer from exactly 23ft four and three quarters inches away. A distance known as the "Kill Zone". With fangs approaching my muscular but exposed neck the probes flew true and found there target in "She Devil Dogs" flank. With milliseconds to spare the 400,000 volts made positive contact with her evil soaked bones and discharge into her body. Right before my gratefully tear soaked eyes she vaporizes into a puff of smoking fur and Devil dog fangs.

Epilogue: Like a Marine on Omaha beach who made it to the bluffs I collapsed on the porch and told Dave he'd have to pick up "Charlotte" by himself but watch out for her hands and don't accept any appointments for dinner with cocktails...minus the dinner.
Sadly in time "Charlotte" died from her addiction. But to this day I fear going out on wet rainy days in Kent. For I know somewhere out there lurks "Devil Dog" who lies in wait for "he who vaporized his mate".

Discloser: No tazer was discharged and no animal was hurt.
Author embellished to make himself look braver than what he is. Names have been changed except, Dave's, Scotty's and mine.