Dog Tags Read Online Free Page B

Fancy
the way most guys look at the
Sports Illustrated
swimsuit issue. And this dog is even more spectacular than he looked in the dark the other night; there is immediately no
     doubt that he does not belong in these circumstances, and I am going to change them.
    He is getting out.
    Sitting on a chair in front of the run, and complicating matters considerably, is a uniformed police officer. He stands when
     he sees us, and lets his hand rest on his holstered gun.
    “What’s going on?” he asks.
    “What are you doing?” I ask. “Guarding the dog?”
    “Who are you?”
    We seem to be asking a lot of questions, but none of them are getting answered. I decide to break that streak. “I’m the dog’s
     lawyer.”
    “What the hell are you talking about?”
    “Which part didn’t you understand? I’m Milo’s lawyer, and I’m here to discuss the case with my client. If you’ll excuse us…”
    “Forget it,” he says. “Nobody gets near that dog.”
    “Except for me,” Fred offers. “I get to feed him and clean up after him.”
    “Why are you guarding my client?”
    “Because they assigned me here,” the officer says. “You think I decided to do this on my own?”
    This isn’t turning into a very productive conversation. “Why did they assign you here?”
    He shrugs. “Beats the shit out of me. But nobody’s going near that dog.” He nods toward Fred. “Except this guy.”
    I’m not going to get anywhere with him, and I sort of have nowhere to get anyway. It’s not like I was going to have a meaningful
     client conference with Milo; I just wanted to get another look at him. He’s a spectaular, powerful dog who certainly doesn’t
     look like he needs an armed guard to protect him. It annoys me to see him locked up like this.
    “Okay,” I say, and then look past him so I can talk directly to Milo. “Milo, don’t talk to anybody about anything. Anybody
     asks you something, refer them to your lawyer. If you need anything, cigarettes, reading material, whatever, just tell the
     guard.”
    The officer looks like he’s going to shoot me, so Fred and I go back into the main area. “You have no idea what this is about?”
     I ask.
    “Nope. They came in like they were dealing with Al Capone and wouldn’t tell me anything. But there’s a guard there twenty-four
     hours; maybe they think somebody is going to try to steal him. Stealing dogs is not usually a problem here.”
    Fred is referring to the fact that he frequently has the very unpleasant task of having to put down some of the dogs here.
     It’s why Willie and I have our foundation.
    I call Pete from my car and tell him what happened, and I’m surprised when he doesn’t sound surprised at all. “Yeah, I was
     going to call you,” he says. “I just heard about the guard.”
    “What’s this all about?”
    “I don’t know, but the situation is locked down. And the word is that the FBI is involved.”
    “FBI? Who did your friend kill?”
    “What happened to innocent until proven guilty?” he asks.
    “All of a sudden you’re an ACLU member? Who is your friend alleged to have killed?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “So I suppose you don’t know where the dog fits in?”
    “Not a clue.”
    “Thanks. Your involving me in this situation has really affected my life in a positive way.”
    “You bailing out?” he asks.
    “No.”
    “Because you got a look at the dog, right? You saw him in a cage and you want to get him out.”
    I’m annoyed that he’s right, and I can’t think of a quick comeback, so I don’t say anything.
    He laughs, knowing full well that he’s scored a point. “You actually prefer dogs to humans.”
    “Maybe I need to start hanging out with a better class of humans.”
    Click.

I NEED TO SPEAK TO B ILLY Z IMMERMAN’S LAWYER. That way I can have him get the court to allow me to represent Milo. I have to admit that my semi-involvement in all of this
     doesn’t feel quite so much like a chore anymore. Not only do