A Clean Sweep

by Tymber Dalton

  Then he unboxed the three new wire crates he’d bought, Essie quickly unfolding and assembling them.

  He handed her the leads and treats. “This what you wanted?”

  She smiled. “Exactly. Thank you.”

  Thus armed, they returned to the kitchen. “Let me go first,” she said.

  Trying not to gag on the stench, she stooped down as she slowly made her way through the kitchen to the doorway leading into the rest of the house. She hoped being crouched would appear less threatening to the dogs.

  The rest of the house looked just as bad. The narrow path through the stuff was also coated in animal waste ground into the carpet. When she looked down at her feet, she realized fleas were coating her legs.

  “Go wait outside,” she told them. “No reason for all of us to be in here.”

  “I’m not leaving you alone in here,” Josh said.

  While she was grateful for and more than a little bit horny over the protective tone in his voice, on this point she wouldn’t cave.

  “Seriously, Josh. This is a literal health hazard. I don’t need to tell you that. Go wait out on the porch. I’ll bring them out as I find them. If you both are in here spooking them, it’ll only make my job harder.” She spotted empty food and water bowls on the floor. “See if you can find usable bowls and a bag of food in here, and get them some water. They’re probably starving and thirsty.”

  She caught sight of one fur-covered rump disappearing into a darkened room. She fumbled for and found the light switch, wishing she hadn’t when one dim bulb illuminated the room. It turned out to be a bathroom, and if she’d thought she had to go, the sight of the nasty space would have dried her bladder right up. It looked like something out of a horror movie.

  A small dog cowered in the corner, next to the bathtub. Essie wanted to push the door closed to at least keep the poor animal from escaping, but the inches-deep layers of filth and garbage on the floor prevented her from budging it.

  “Hey, sweetheart,” she cooed, not moving from where she stood. “It’s okay, sweetie. I bet you’re hungry, aren’t you?” She slowly ripped open the bag of treats Josh had brought and took one out.

  It looked like it might have been a black and white shih tzu mix, but right now it was one matted fur ball of brownish gunk. She swallowed back her anger and her bile. The poor thing needed help, and the owner obviously wasn’t in her right mind. It didn’t make the situation any easier to stomach, but it helped Essie calm herself.

  It lifted its nose to the air and sniffed the treat she slowly held out. Essie finally gave the treat a gentle flick, letting it land in front of the dog.

  The dog kept its eyes on her as it lowered its head to sniff at the treat, then scarfed it up.

  “Good, baby. That’s real good.” She pulled out another one and tossed it in front of the dog.

  It took her fifteen minutes and five more treats to finally get the dog to stop growling at her. Once it did that, she slowly looped one of the kennel leads, tightening it only so far that she had a large enough loop to slip over the terrified dog’s head. Ideally, she’d have a catchpole she could use to snag the dog and not risk getting bit, but they didn’t have time for that. She had to make do. Cautiously, she stepped forward and reached out.

  “It’s okay, baby. Going to get you out of here and get you cleaned up, I swear. Get you some food and water.” The dog sniffed at the loop of braided nylon, trying to keep an eye on her and the kennel lead at the same time.

  Behind her she heard a noise but didn’t take her attention off the dog in front of her. The dog glanced at whatever made the noise and then immediately focused back on her, so she suspected it was probably one of the other dogs behind her.

  She knew she’d likely only get one good attempt per dog, and knew she needed to make each attempt count.

  Apparently the air-conditioning in the house either didn’t work or wasn’t turned on. It felt at least fifteen degrees hotter inside than out, the disgusting stench stifling like a rancid cocoon. Sweat trickled down her neck and her back as she kept her tone light and soothing.

  “Heeey, baby. It’s okay.” Finally, she was able to swoop the lead around the dog’s neck and give a quick tug to tighten it. The dog tried to pull back and away, growling at her again, but it was trapped in the corner between the wall and the tub.

  She stepped forward, scooping one arm under its midsection, the other keeping the kennel lead pulled taut so the struggling dog couldn’t turn and snap at her. She didn’t think it was really aggressive, just poorly socialized and terrified out of its mind.

  And probably more than a little batshit crazy from being cooped up in that disaster area.

  “I’ve got one!” she called out as she backed out of the bathroom. “Get a crate ready!”

  She squirmed her way through the passage and back into the kitchen, where Josh held the kitchen door open for her. Lisa had one of the crates open. Essie slid the dog, lead and all, into the crate and quickly closed the door.

  The terrified dog cowered in the far corner of the crate. It had felt like it was probably close to twenty pounds, but how much of that was matted fur was hard to tell.

  “Holy crap,” Lisa muttered.

  “I hope you’ve told your vet we’ll be bringing them in,” she said, now able to get a better look at the poor dog. “I don’t know how the other two are, but this one needs to be shaved down. It’s going to have flea and skin problems, probably worms, dental, ears…” She shook her head. “I can’t tell how old it is, but it doesn’t look like an elderly dog. Please get it some water, at least.”

  Josh and Lisa had already rescued a couple of plastic bowls from the kitchen and rinsed and filled them with an outside hose. Josh handed one to Essie, who dropped a couple of treats into the crate in front of the dog before easing the door open just enough to get the water in.

  Once she closed the door, the dog immediately lapped at the water for almost a minute before scarfing up the treats.

  “I called my vet,” Lisa said. “I already warned them. They told me to call when we were pulling in, and to meet them at the back door so they could evaluate them outside before they bring them in.”

  “They might want to shave them down outside,” Essie said. “They’re absolutely covered with fleas. They’re going to have to be completely shaved from head to toe.” She’d seen cases of animal neglect before, and abuse. But she’d never seen dogs matted this badly before.

  “We can load the crates in the back of my truck,” Josh said. “I’ve got a cargo net we can put over them so they stay secure. Lisa, I don’t think you want them in your car like this.”

  “I can’t believe my mom let this happen,” the woman said, her eyes welling up again. “She was never like this before. A few piles of papers here and there, sure, but always clean.”

  Essie stared down at her arms and legs, where fleas were still jumping off her. “The place is crawling with fleas,” she said. “Once we get the dogs out, someone needs to set off a couple of bug bombs in there.”

  “I’m halfway tempted to let the county fire department come burn it down as a practice run,” Lisa said, frowning. “If it wasn’t for the fact that there’s some family pictures and things like that in there I need to find first.”

  “We’ve got a couple of exterminators we work with on a regular basis,” Josh told her. “I can get you all their numbers. They handle emergency cases, too.”

  “Thanks.”

  Essie picked up another kennel lead. “Let me get back in there.”

  Josh reached out and grabbed her arm, his gaze piercing her through to her core. “Be careful,” he warned.

  Dominant, concerned.

  She nodded, shoving her growing feelings for him out of her mind. “Oh, believe me, I will.”

  Essie worked her way back into the house through the kitchen. Somewhere deep in the house, she heard a noise, like something moving around.

  It even feels like a damn horror movie
.

  The house had the high ceilings typical in many old Florida wooden framed houses, to help draw the heat up and away from residents.

  Unfortunately, those same high ceilings had allowed the owner to hoard more stuff. Essie couldn’t see over the tops of most of it. Whereas her father’s hoard had grown from neat stacks of boxes and items that had morphed out of control, it looked like this woman had created a landfill inside her home. New clothes with tags still attached were piled under empty egg cartons and soup cans, many of the latter which looked like they’d never been rinsed out. The blocked windows only made it appear darker inside.

  She’s lucky she fell and broke her hip outside and not inside. She would have died in here.

  Suppressing a shudder at that thought, Essie turned back to the kitchen and opened the door enough to speak to Josh. “Do you have a flashlight?”

  “Yeah, hold on.” He retrieved a small LED light from his truck and passed it through to her.

  “Thanks.” Inside, with the light to better illuminate her progress, she followed the sounds through the downstairs until she reached what was likely the foyer area.

  It was hard to tell from the junk stacked around.

  But the stairs were there, a very narrow path leading through piles of garbage on either side of the risers to the second floor.

  She was almost afraid to play the beam of the light around the dim space. The last thing she wanted to see were tiny eyes of rats or other vermin reflected back at her.

  There was old and dried dog feces everywhere, some of it ground into what once was a carpet, some of it petrified.

  She must not have a sense of smell left. The house reeked of ammonia from urine, and she already felt a headache coming on.

  She had to get the dogs out of there and get herself out of there before she became sick. So far, she hadn’t seen any indication of cats or their feces, and while eye-watering, to her experienced nose the urine stench smelled like dog pee, not cat.

  “Here, puppy,” she called out. More noises came from upstairs, including a faint growling.

  Dammit. Cautiously eyeing the stairs, she made her way up them, unable to grab onto the banister because of the piles of garbage in the way.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Josh nervously hovered by the kitchen door, cracking it open every minute or so to listen for Essie. He had a bad feeling about the entire situation, and didn’t like the fact that Essie was alone inside. Old wooden houses like this, especially when filled with the weight of hoarded stuff, were especially susceptible to structural damage.

  He’d never forgive himself if she got hurt.

  I should have told her not to go upstairs. Thirty minutes later, he’d almost made up his mind to do just that when he heard her call out.

  “I have number two. Get ready.” He was waiting at the door, with Lisa ready at the crate and a bowl of water already inside it, when Essie made her way through the kitchen. Fortunately, this dog was short-haired, maybe a dachshund mix from the look of it. She eased it into the crate where instead of growling at her it immediately drank from the water bowl.

  “I hope that doesn’t make them sick,” Lisa said after she closed the crate door. “Drinking that much.”

  “That’s the least of their worries,” Essie told her. She turned to Josh. “I know there’s at least one more, but after I finally catch it, I want to take one more turn through the house to make sure.

  He read the determination in her brown gaze. Despite his overwhelming urge to pull her into his arms and kiss her right there, their shared stench made that not only impractical but more than a little gross.

  “I’d rather you didn’t if you don’t think there’s more than three.”

  “I don’t know if there is or not. That place is a damn maze. I think the last one ran back downstairs while I cornered this one. It’s hard to tell.”

  “Is the upstairs as bad as downstairs?”

  She nodded.

  “You need to look up at the ceilings on the first floor. Make sure none of them are buckling. If they are, you don’t go back upstairs, understand me? And don’t spend any more time than necessary downstairs, either. I don’t want the upstairs collapsing on you.”

  “I’m not leaving that dog in there.”

  You will if I tell you to. But he didn’t say that. “If it’s dangerous, come get me and I’ll go in after it. I don’t want you getting hurt.” Because it’d kill me if you did.

  The thought shocked him, but it hit him hard and fast.

  And he knew it was the truth.

  “I’ll be okay.” Before he could argue with Essie, she slipped into the kitchen again and disappeared around the corner.

  With tension building to a nerve-snapping level in his gut, he waited by the kitchen door, keeping it cracked open to listen.

  * * * *

  Essie searched downstairs but didn’t find the dog. “Hey, baby. Hey, puppy.”

  Upstairs, she heard a noise.

  Of course. She did look up, as Josh had told her. She didn’t see anything unusual, no buckled floors, but knew that didn’t mean anything to her untrained eye.

  Carefully making her way up the treacherous stairs again, she started searching room by room, closing doors as she went. Sometimes that meant kicking piles of junk out of the way and pulling her entire weight against the doorknob to make it move, but she did it.

  When she heard a noise coming from what might have been the master bathroom, she started climbing over more piles to reach it.

  There, revealed in the beam of her flashlight and cowering on a layer of garbage inside the bathtub, she found the final dog and the other one she’d seen from the kitchen door.

  “Hey, baby,” she said, relieved to have trapped it. Unfortunately, the room’s light didn’t work in this bathroom when she tried the switch. There was a little light filtering in through a half-covered window in the bedroom, so she let the half-opened door stay that way, hoping the terrified animal wouldn’t dash around her. She propped the flashlight on what had been the counter but was otherwise covered with junk.

  She dumped a handful of treats into her hand. “Here, sweetie. Look at this. Smell this.” She carefully tossed a few so they’d land in front of the dog. One immediately rolled off a piece of cardboard and under the other layers of junk, but others landed in front of the dog. It only gave the treats one sniff before inhaling them.

  “Gooood. Good baby.” This dog was also matted like the first, but not as severely. She suspected it was either a shorter-haired breed than the first, or hadn’t been there as long to become as matted. Its coat was a uniform shade of nasty brownish grey that she suspected was more from being filthy than anything resembling its true color. Her instinct was that it might be a yellow or peach cocker spaniel mix, based on the shape of its head and its long ears. It was hard to guess its weight, but it looked like it might be around thirty pounds or so.

  It trembled as she talked to it and slowly approached. Footing in the bathroom was tricky due to walking on layers of stuff instead of the actual floor, but she kept her gaze focused on the dog.

  “Hey, baby. Goood baby.” Her heart broke for these animals at the same time she once again gave thanks her mom had kept her foot firmly down about not having any pets.

  I don’t have it nearly as bad as Lisa.

  Essie finally got close enough to the dog she could slowly move the noosed kennel lead toward its head with her left hand. She held a treat in her right hand, moving it around so the dog kept its focus on the yummy treat and not the kennel lead approaching it.

  Finally, knowing she was risking getting bit, she extended her right hand through the noose and closer to the dog. It sniffed at her fingers, its tongue flicking out to lick at the treat.

  “Good, baby. Goood puppy.” In one swift movement, she let the dog take the treat as she swooped the noose around the dog’s neck and tightened it.

  The dog exploded in a flurry of movement, catching Essie off-gu
ard. She managed to get hold of its scruff with her left hand, digging into the matted fur tightly as she picked it up and hugged it under her right arm.

  She backed up, unable to see where she was going as the struggling dog tried to break free from her grip. That was when she felt herself losing her balance. Unwilling to let go of the dog, Essie rolled onto her back as she fell, hitting the door and slamming it closed as a pile of clutter fell over on her and the dog in the darkness.

  “Josh!” she screamed. “Help!” The flashlight, dislodged by her fall, was now pointed down, giving her barely any light. “Josh!”

  * * * *

  Josh was listening at the kitchen door and trying to hear over the sounds from the road and from Lisa trying to soothe the two scared dogs in the crates. He was about to shush her when he heard what sounded like a heavy thump, followed by screaming, from somewhere inside the house.

  Heart pounding and self-recriminations flying in his brain, he flung the kitchen door open and ran inside. “Essie! Where are you?”

  He followed the sound wrong the first time, ending up under her on the first floor. Getting himself turned around, he finally located the stairs and tripped up them as fast as he could until he made his way down the choked hallway to the last bedroom.

  “Essie!”

  “In here!”

  Scrambling over the piles of crap, he made it to the closed door and tried it. The knob was unlocked, but when he shouldered the door, it barely budged.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Stuff fell and blocked the door.”

  He tried to slow his pounding heart. She wasn’t hurt. If anything had happened to her…

  “Stand back.”

  “Hold on.” He heard sounds inside, including the dog growling and barking, sounds of things shifting around. “Okay.”

  He took a step back and slammed his body against the door, only managing to budge it an inch. Several more times, and his shoulder was killing him and he’d only managed to pry it open another six inches. “You’ll have to dig out from in there.”