Dogs Read Online Free Page A

“’Oggie!” and the dog always ran to him, licking his face in a germ-laden mutual love fest. Steve didn’t like it but Diane just laughed. “It’s in his genes,” she said. “He’s probably part terrier himself. Look at that sharp little face and wet nose.”
    Steve hadn’t thought that was funny. He still didn’t.
    â€œCome on, Davey-Guy, we’re going to Grandma’s. Daddy’s got to get to work.”
    â€œâ€™Oggie!”
    â€œNo ’oggies. Grandma .” Steve tried to keep the frustration out of his voice. None of this was Davey’s fault. The little guy couldn’t help it that his whore of a mother had run off with another man, or that his father was so stressed out juggling his job with full custody. Not that Steve would ever turn Davey over to Diane, that cheating bitch.
    He got Davey into his snowsuit and drove across town.
    Steve’s mother took Davey from him at the front door. “Here’s my little angel…you have time for coffee, Stevie?”
    â€œCan’t, Ma, I’m already late.” He pushed the stroller, laden with a huge bag of diapers, clothes, bottles, toys—God, the stuff a two-year-old needed!
    â€œLeave the stroller on the porch here, we’re going to the park. Can you believe this weather for February?”
    â€œYeah, it’s great, ’bye, thanks.” Steve escaped to his patrol car. His mother was great, and God knows what he’d do without her, but she never shut up.
    He had started the ignition and pulled away from the curb when the brown mastiff raced around the corner.
    Fast—faster than possible!—the dog sprinted to the porch and leapt up the steps. Steve slammed on the brakes and grabbed his gun. His mother screamed. She tried to maneuver around the stroller to back through the front door, but with Davey in her arms she wasn’t quick enough. The mastiff sprang, knocking her backward over the stroller.
    Steve tore toward the house. By the time he reached the doorway, the mastiff had dragged Davey from his grandmother and was shaking him violently in his jaws, like a terrier with a rat. Steve fired at the dog’s hind end, to avoid hitting Davey, again and again, until his nine-millimeter was empty.
    There was a spun-out moment when the brown mastiff raised its head and looked straight at Steve. A single long string of saliva and blood hung from its mouth, obscenely connecting the dog to the child. Then the mastiff toppled sideways.
    Steve grabbed Davey. It was too late. Davey’s eyes stared, sightless, at his father. Steve’s mother went on screaming, a shrill ragged sound, but Steve barely heard her. All he could hear, in a strange bubble of silence and disbelief, was Davey. His son, joyously crying “’Oggie!”

» 6
    â€œAnother one?” Cami Johnson said disbelievingly.
    â€œYes,” the charge nurse said, the phone still in her hand. “They’re coming in red, ETA five minutes. Six-year-old boy, unstable, set up the trauma room with the peds cart. Dr. Kirk is still in OR, and I’ve called in Baker and Olatic. Move, Nurse!”
    Cami moved. The charge nurse at Tyler Community Hospital scared her, but that was all right because the other nurses had reassured Cami that Rosita Perez scared them, too, and they’d been here a lot longer than Cami’s two weeks. However, not even Rosita was as scary as what was happening in the ER this morning.
    Three dog bites, and a fourth one in an ambulance on the way in. And one, the little Kingwell girl, had died.
    Cami had seen her when she came in, bleeding and torn up…her poor little face…why did people own vicious dogs like that? Especially people with little children? Cami had no kids, she was only twenty-one and this was her first ER duty, but she had a dog. A very gentle half-collie, Belle. Cami would never own any breed that could hurt anyone.