Three

A few days later Ben and I were outside in the glorious sunshine. The trees gently rattled their leaves. Bugs and breezes battled for my attention, but I was trying to watch Ben because he had that pouch and I knew there were treats inside it. He also wore a hat and a smile.

We were in the driveway, playing a perplexing game called Down. On his knees, Ben would pat the cement and say the word down over and over while I watched him in befuddlement. I didn’t know much about this Down business, but he had a turkey treat in his fist, which I felt was what we should actually be dealing with.

I snapped my head up at the sound and odor of a boy running along the sidewalk. He was younger and smaller than Samantha, wearing pants that smelled like chicken, and as he panted the scent on his breath was sugary. The boy ran straight up to Ben as if he knew about the turkey treat.

“Are you the fireman?” the boy asked breathlessly as he skidded to a halt.

Ben stood. “Yah, for sure, I’m Ben Gustafson. What’s your name?”

The boy swallowed, still having trouble catching his breath. “Morey.”

“Is something wrong, Morey? Is something on fire?” Ben asked gently.

The boy shook his head. “My sister Kathy got bit.”

“What do you mean? By a dog?”

“No,” the boy explained. “It’s a raccoon. It just came out of the bushes and ran up to Kathy and bit her.”

I glanced sharply at Ben as he stiffened. Something important seemed to be going on, and that treat was still tucked away inside his fist. “Take me,” he instructed tersely.

Well, I didn’t really understand what we were doing, but both Ben and the boy were alarmed, so I forgot about the turkey in Ben’s hand for the moment and concentrated on staying with the two of them as they raced down the sidewalk. We turned at the corner and the boy ran up to the front door of a house and pushed it open. “Mom!” the boy yelled. “He was home!”

I sensed and smelled the worry pouring off a woman who came out of the kitchen, wringing her hands. “It drew blood,” she announced by way of greeting. “I hope it’s okay I sent Morey to get you. I wasn’t sure what to do.”

“Take me to her,” Ben requested.

A little girl wearing tiny shorts, younger than Samantha but older then the boy with the chicken pants, was sitting on the side of a bathtub. I smelled blood.

“I’m a paramedic,” Ben told the girl kindly. “You can call me Ben. Are you Kathy?”

The little girl nodded solemnly. I smelled and saw a single tear track down her cheek.

Ben crouched next to her. His voice was very soft. “Where did it get you?”

The girl lifted her leg and I saw the source of the blood smell. A deep wound above her ankle was dripping steadily into the white bathtub, making spatters. “Okay,” Ben decided. He glanced up at the woman standing with us in the small bathroom. “She’s going to need to go to the ER and have this stitched up. It’s not life-threatening; you don’t need to call an ambulance. But she needs to go.”

“Can I pet the puppy?” the little boy asked.

Everyone looked at me as if seeing me for the first time. I wagged.

“Sure.”

The little boy reached out his small hand and I lowered my head for him to pet me. The little girl stretched a hand down too, but she couldn’t reach me, so I shuffled forward and was gently stroked by her as well.

Ben leaned over and twisted some knobs. A steady stream of water thundered into the bathtub. “Kathy, I need you to put your leg under here and just let the water run. Okay?”

The girl nodded. Ben put his hand in the stream and smiled. “Yah, that’s good. Here.” He lifted the girl’s foot and steered it into the water. “Not too hot?”

The girl shook her head. “It’s okay.”

Everyone was more relaxed, and I wondered if I was the only one in the room to realize that Ben had shoved that turkey treat into his pocket, where he had more waiting. He glanced up at the woman. “Do you have any liquid soap?”

The woman opened a door under the sink and held out a bottle to Ben. I wrinkled my nose at the odor. “I’m going to put some of this on your bite, okay, Kathy?” Ben advised. “It might sting a little, but it shouldn’t hurt a lot.”

The girl winced as a gooey liquid flowed from the bottle into the bloody scratch on her leg.

“Good girl,” Ben praised her. “Now tell me more about this animal.”

“It’s a raccoon,” the woman replied from behind us.

“It just came up to me and bit me,” the little girl added.

“You didn’t do anything? You didn’t try to touch it?” Ben pressed.

The little girl shook her head. “We didn’t even see it. It just came out of nowhere.”

“It’s walking kinda funny,” the boy chimed in.

Ben set his mouth in a grim line. “Oofda.” He stood and turned to the mother. “We need to thoroughly irrigate the wound. Lots of soap and water. Then drive her to get urgent care. Can you do that?”

“Sure, but what’s wrong?” the woman asked. I could smell her worry getting stronger and sharper.

“It’s just really unusual for them to attack people who are minding their own business. Is the raccoon still out there somewhere?”

The boy nodded solemnly. “You can see him from the back window. He’s in the yard, kinda walking around in circles.”

Ben glanced at the woman. “Do you have an empty trash can, or a trash can we can empty?”

The woman looked puzzled. “Sure.”

“Show me. Kathy, will you be okay by yourself for a few minutes? Just keep your leg in the water.”

“Okay,” the little girl agreed in a timid voice.

I followed Ben and the woman into the kitchen. I had already learned that I liked kitchens very much. They smell wonderful and there are often interesting things on the floor for me to lick.

The woman opened a door and brought out a fragrant-smelling container that came up to her knees. Ben nodded approvingly when she pulled a plastic bag out of it and tied off the top. “Will this work?” she asked.

“Perfect.”

“Look,” the boy called. He was standing next to a giant window, pointing outside. “It’s still here. See it?”

I glanced out into the yard and then stared in surprise. Waddling around in the green grass was the largest squirrel I could possibly imagine. Its black nose was ringed with white fur, and black fur circled its eyes, with white across its forehead. It was wobbling as it shuffled in a wide, meandering circle.

I felt the fur on the back of my neck rising up. The muscles in my back legs tensed. I knew what to do with squirrels—even giant squirrels. Chase them!

Ben pressed his lips together and nodded. “I need to trap it with the trash can and have animal control pick it up. It’s sick, and I’m pretty sure it’s got rabies. Animal control can run tests to see if I’m right.”

The woman gasped. “Rabies? Oh no! Will Kathy get the shots in the stomach? I’ve heard those are horribly painful!”

Ben shook his head. “No. First, we’re flushing the wound and that will help tremendously. Second, we don’t give those shots in the stomach anymore. There’s a vaccine now, don’tcha know. It’s a single injection in the arm, like getting a flu shot. It won’t hurt more than any other kind of shot. Kathy’s going to be fine, I promise.”

“Do I have to get a shot too?” the boy asked, alarmed.

“Did it bite you? Did you touch it?” Ben wanted to know.

The boy soundlessly shook his head.

“Then no,” Ben reassured him. “Just your sister.”

I crept closer to the giant window. That giant squirrel was still out there. I didn’t understand why we were all standing around when there was chasing to be done.

“How long will it take for animal control to test if it’s rabies?” the woman asked Ben.

“No more than seventy-two hours, but you’ll want to get the vaccine as a precaution.”

“Oh. Kathy … she hates shots.”

“Yah, I don’t actually know anybody who loves them,” Ben agreed cheerfully. “But this isn’t something you want to take chances on. Meanwhile, call nine-one-one and ask for animal control to come out. Tell them it’s an emergency, that Station Five FD has a paramedic on the scene and we have a rabid raccoon loose in the yard.”

“I’ll do it now.”

“May I have the trash can?”

Ben accepted the empty container from the woman and went to the giant window. Finally he was paying attention to what was really important—the big squirrel!

Ben put a hand on the window and it slid sideways. I shot between his legs and joyously ran for the huge squirrel.

“Ripley! No!” Ben yelled.

I was already starting to understand that word no and I did not care for it. But obviously Ben had made a mistake. There was no reason to yell “No!” about chasing a strange squirrel, so I didn’t let it worry me.

The waddling squirrel took no notice of me and wasn’t trying to hop over to a nearby tree to escape. I was going to catch this one!

No!” Ben screamed again. I could hear his footsteps pounding in pursuit of me and I hesitated. His voice was so full of strong fear and anger that it was like a leash snatching me back.

Uncertainly, I looked over my shoulder and was frightened at the expression on Ben’s face. I slowed further and he caught me and literally tackled me to the ground, pulling me into his arms.

I went limp in the face of Ben’s strong emotions, not struggling when he picked me right up out of the grass and clutched me to his chest, scrambling to his feet.

Something had gone very wrong, but I wasn’t sure what that might be.

The big squirrel gave off a raw and wild odor, different from any other animal I had ever encountered. It also behaved oddly, turning and advancing on us as we stood panting. Its legs seemed hobbled somehow, and its steps were faltering, but its course was determined as it made straight for both of us.

Ben turned and ran with me in his arms back to the house. He thrust me through the big open window and said to the boy, “Don’t let my puppy out.”

The boy grabbed me. The window slammed shut. I watched in bewilderment as Ben turned, scooped up the container, and stood with it in his arms. The waddling squirrel continued to come right at him.

I could feel my hackles rising. This was no longer a game to me. This squirrel clearly intended to harm Ben. I drew my lips back from my teeth, and glanced at the boy, willing him to open the big window so that I could go out and help my Ben.

“You silly puppy,” the boy murmured to me. “You really think you’re big enough to protect a fireman?”

Ben remained motionless until the squirrel was nearly upon him, and then he swiftly lowered that container, mouth first, so that it trapped the animal inside. Then he pressed down on the container with his arms and upper body. “I’ve got it!” he yelled.

The woman let out a big sigh of relief.

I didn’t really understand what was going on. But Ben was in the yard holding down a plastic container while everybody else, including me, was locked in the house. I belonged out with Ben, but the humans hadn’t figured that out. I squirmed until the boy had to set me down, but nobody slid the big window open for me, so all I could do was watch Ben and claw at the glass.

The little girl stayed in the bathroom and the woman went to join her. I smelled the water in the tub and less blood on the air.

It felt like we waited an awfully long time before some women in bland clothing walked into the house. Both were holding long poles, one with an odd net and one with a loop of wire at the end. I darted through the slider when they opened it, to join Ben at last.

“I’d bet a week’s pay this is a rabid raccoon,” he greeted them. “Tried to attack me and bit a little girl. Has other symptoms—obvious ataxia, aggression.”

“All right,” one of the women replied. “We’ll take it from here.”

I could smell that feral squirrel underneath that tub, but Ben seemed safe for now. So I didn’t object when he picked me up and backed away. It seemed clear that chasing squirrels was more complicated than I’d always understood.

Ben and I returned to the bathroom to see the little girl. They spoke and touched hands and Ben said good-bye. Then we walked home. I kept my eyes and nose focused on locating more squirrels—now that I understood how easy they were to catch, I was determined to do so.