Raindogblue

Name It?

 

 

 

 

 

Deputy Dog: Call of the Day

One of my brother's calls from the rural half of the state.....

 

Complainant:

I can't find my dog. I think he is up on property behind mine: 800 acre cattle ranch. I heard a gun shot. Now, I can't find my dog.

Deputy Dog: 

If your dog is after livestock, ranchers can shoot it.

Complainant:

I know the law, but they shouldn't be able to shoot my dog.

Deputy Dog:

Okay, how can I help?

 

The Complainant hangs up.

The Hunt

 

As the days darken, the congregation of crows downtown grows, but the bridgehead flat lot is lined with dozens of rats fed from the camps under and around the off-ramp and on-ramps of the bridge. A hawk is feeding on one behind my prowler. His falconer, paid to harass the crows, asks me not move, but his hawk will have none of him. It sees the rats. The crows can wait.  For ten minutes, the bird flies from ramp to ramp, perched on the rail, lying in wait, ignoring the falconer's attempt to call it back and continue the crow hunt.

 

 

 

 

Jelly

 

 

 

 

Jelly

 

 

 

 

Urchin

 

 

 

 

12th and Mercy

 

A woman found a dying dog. She’s three months off the streets, but it breaks her heart to see an animal suffering. She slides in the back of the prowler, so she can hold the chihuahua under her coat, and I drive to the 24 animal hospital. The woman doesn’t have a mask, so I walk the creature in between my outstretched hands. The desk staff calls a  walk in stat. The medical staff take the dog from my hands. As I fill out the form, they inform me they found a chip.

 

 

The Bros

 

It's dark. It's misty. The next storm is blowing in. Dispatch sends me on a shots fired call on the south edge of downtown. A block search reveals nothing. The few people who venture downtown these days have heard nothing, so I start checking the transient camps along the exit ramps of the freeway. 

I walk into the hollow between the doug firs and the brush on well worn muddy trails. The first camp is abandoned. I scan the detritus: the human waste, uncapped needles, and piles of items scrapped for the metal. As I decided on the best path, I know I am being watched. I check my six. Nothing. Nothing to the flanks. Check my six again. Then, I hear it: scratching in the trees. I watch as large raccoon slides down a tree and lopes towards me. 

I spot my flashlight on him and say, I dont' know you. You can stay right there.

The raccoon pauses and drinks from a puddle like he has been doing it the whole time. He's watching me, realizing I am not his friend. 

I turn to continue into the abandoned camp only to nearly step on a rat, the size of my smallest cat, dancing at my feet. The rat retreats into the garbage. I complete my search and turn back to the raccoon blocking the path to the next set of camps. 

The raccoon is still drinking and watching. He's not going anywhere. 

I wait. 

The raccoon stares, so I circle, counter-clockwise, around the hollow. Half-way along my course, the raccoon waddles over to a cyclone fence and climbs part way up and then stops. He just hangs there as if he is part of the background. 

With the raccoon out of the way, I proceed down the path to a camp of six tents.

The first has light and movement. 

I call out, It's the police. Good evening.

The occupants call out in surprise rather than alarm. 

Somebody report hearing a shot and I am checking the camps to make sure everything is okay.

A woman's voice from the tent says, "Oh, you scared us! But thank you for checking on us! It's a bit dark and scary back here."

Yeah, I saw a big raccoon down the trail.

The woman replied, "They're our bros! We feed them. They keep the rats away!

 

 

 

Peep

 

At midnight, I pulled into a covered lot and checked my messages.

"Peep."

Hhmmm. That's an odd noise. 

Two minutes later, there's an other, "Peep,"

There's a slight scratching. 

It's in the prowler.

I exit the car and look in the cage.

I find a baby bird.

The windows had been down. I'm not sure when it had flown in.

I open the door to let it out.

It looks at me and says,"Peep."

I open the opposite door.

It hops over to the other side and says, "Peep."

The bird is not afraid. It's looking to be fed.

 I walk away from the car.

It follows me outside and "Peeps" at my feet.

Eventually, it flies up to a rafter and I can leave.

 

 

Bull

 

In the river, under Bedlam Bridge, I saw a bull sea lion swim and show off for the handful of spectators present.