orangetoughguy | logging iv

C'mon, buddy. Yeah. This way.

[Snuff, snuff, snuffling here and there. The leash is also his rope collar. Larry has it wrapped several times around his fist. He should have gone first to Freddy to talk it over. But that would have been a moment too long.

Right through the house and to the other man waiting.]

Sooo. We got something.

[No fucking shit old man. The furry, muscled pup pauses enough to sit and lick his chops. He can smell Freddy from there. The same could probably be said.

Their good buddy Rey is on the big brick of a cellphone he totes.]

[Is it really a house? Is it really? It might seem fancy being two stories but the house itself is only so long. In all honesty it's not terrible...but it is no place for a big dog. Not that Freddy is aware that's the case just yet.]

What'd "we" get.

[He calls out in good humor knowing 'we' is often used in place for 'I (on a whim)'. Thump thump thump here comes the foxy wolf/wolfy fox kid. He smells like donuts because Freddy's been in the stash he somehow coerced the old man to get him to make up for that liquor store blow up.]

[Fancy enough. Did you see those statues of naked ladies all spray painted gold? That's the kind of reasonable luxury that Rey Ray is into. They're talking pre-MTV Cribs here.]

Say hello.

[The dog's tail whips back and forth over the floor as he comes up. Friend? It must be a friend. That's all part of the "problem" Ray's people found. His small brain believes everyone is a friend first. That smell smells good. Very good, good enough to smell more aggressively by sticking his face into his hands, his pockets.]

....................

[Mutt what are you doin. Freddy doesn't protest but he's not reaching out to rub and pet the invasive face either.]

Hi.

[He goes from staring at the beast to staring at Larry Dimick.]

You got a dog.

[Emphasis on you, not us.]

[Big, smelly head is trying to smell out if he has donuts on him or he just smells like donuts. And so if there aren't any donuts, maybe there's pets. Human, you have hands. He can see em. Nuuudge.]

He's a good one.

[Larry licks his dry lips and his eyes look over to Ray who is still on the phone.]

We're gonna go.

[Said loudly and so that Freddy can get that there's more to this. Work with him this much please kid gosh.]

..........

[You owe him big time, Dimmy. Freddy takes a hand out to give the big headed creature a pat pat to his large skull. He turns in the same direction to get a move on.]

[A rumbling arrooo is his thanks. Oh. The big man says to move along. Larry already knows by the silence that once they get on the road he better start talking.

The big lug of a dog is apprehensive about the car. Cars go places. Larry ends up picking him up and shoving him in the back seat. It's now a smelly dog back seat. Okay, now he's in too. Door shut.]

I know what you're thinking. Money. Space. Liability. I'm thinking it too.

[Freddy waits until they're all in the car to talk. Oh and if he couldn't guess, the old man is driving.]

Of all the things you thought 'we' should get.

It could have been worse.

[Don't ask him to brainstorm how, okay? Huff. Wet nose presses right under Freddy's ear. Larry reaches to try and shove the dog back.]

I wouldn't have done it any other day or circumstance. Just hear me out. They were gonna kill him.

What for? Drooling?

[He reaches back to push that big head behind. It doesn't work too well. Freddy finds himself waging a little war with that wet nose.]

Ray says he's got a little side business.

[Besides the drugs.]

He trains and fights dogs, holds big parties and runs a gambling ring. That kind of shit. Well, this fella came into his possession. The guy had to give him up or something? I wasn't too sure. All I could see was that they were tryin' to bait him into a growl.

[Sob story as it might be, he's paying his mind to the road and all the shitty drivers around.]

Does he look like a growler let alone a fighter to you?

No.

[Freddy answers coolly, not wanting to comment on the rest of this guy's background because as the (former) police it would be his duty to cut that operation down to pieces. Huff.]

Our place isn't big enough for him you know.

They had a gun and they were going to shoot him while he just sat there like a dope.

[As a crook, a cop killing one, Lawrence Dimick couldn't abide by that.]

We got time. I'll walk 'im.

[Which sounds way better then getting a new place. That's the plan but it won't be for any mutt that doesn't have survival skills.]

[Yes yes yes, Dimmy, we've already established that you felt you needed to save the dog.]

You think a walk is gonna make him settle in easy?

[Green eyes glance over with the flattest expression only a feline could exceed.]

[How is it that the guy who eats ice cream and cereal at all hours, reads comic books and watches cartoons can make him feel like a fucking child?]

It'll help. He likes us already.

[Pant! Pant! Pant! That's the guy behind em close to the window steaming up the portion that isn't rolled down.]

Call it a for now thing, okay? I didn't want him going out like that trying to be something he's not.

I get it I get it you wanted to save the dog.

[Hands flap trying to pat down on a bear hide (but not while he's driving).]

I'm just saying I don't know how much more time you and I can give him.

[Huff! This time a Larry one. He's quiet while he thinks it over and checks the rear view mirror. There's that dog.]

I didn't think about that.

[To be absolutely honest. A great heart with a lousy sense of foresight. Like a crook that decides he wants to help his comrade bleeding out the gut.]

We could try and give him back to his owner.

Yeah give him back to a Mexican in a Mexican hood.

[He's not saying they all look alike. That's not what Freddy is saying at all. But he is saying it would be hard not knowing what this owner looks like...]

Not right this very second but I could poke around. See what I can find.

[In the mean time keep the mutt. Except why is this not as exciting as he had imagined for a few seconds? No that's a lie. He didn't have time to imagine. He just wanted to save the dog from a bullet or from the ring.

What about the others, Dimmy?

Larry rubs his face and lets the car go quiet. The dog stops pacing and ends up sitting down. Phew.]

[Aw not the silence, Dimmy, not the silence. Freddy doesn't mean to be a heel.]

......At least he's not making a mess back there.

[Unlike certain other freckled fox faced kids. He gives the rear view mirror and upnod.]

[Thoughtful silence, nothing calculating or manipulative okay.]

I'd handle it if he did something.

[Accountability. Also he sure as shit isn't going to make his man go and clean piss and shit for an animal he didn't want. It's too soon.]

So does he have a name or something?

[Yes Freddy's feeling less bristly about the big lug, enough to actually want to get to know him.]

He's gotta. I didn't see no tag on him though. And I'm pretty sure that Ray isn't in the business for caring about that. They just called him a son of a bitch.

[Snerk.]

Isn't that everybody though? We should call him something. What about Pedro?

Hey Son of a Bitch, here boy!

[Freddy tries the silly name on his tongue. Hm. Nope. No go. At the sound of 'Pedro' he just has to give Larry a look.]

That's racist.

[Yes. That's what Freddy said.]

What about Paco.

[The dog sits up and tries to shove his way forward. Dog, that is not your name dog. His big head is close to Freddy now.]

Heeey. Quit it! Quit it.

[To the dog.]

Paco's not racist? Shit. Rodrigo. Alfonzo.

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