The Case of the Overdue Otterhound

by B R Snow

  The dog sniffed my hand, then managed a soft lick, and I relaxed.

  “Hang in there,” I whispered as an extended bout of shivers went through me. “We’re going to get you out of there.” I slowly and gently wrapped both arms around the dog and waited until she relaxed. “Yeah, that feels good, doesn’t it?” I nodded at Rooster, and he stepped around the dog and reached for the trap. Moments later, he had it open, and he slowly removed the dog’s front left leg then let the trap snap shut.

  “How bad does it look?” I said, rubbing the dog’s head.

  “It’s pretty mangled,” Rooster said, shaking his head. “But at least it’s not one of those traps with teeth. It doesn’t look she’s bleeding much.”

  “What kind of trap is it?”

  “Definitely muskrat,” Rooster said. “Okay, let’s get her back to the boat and get out of here. You want me to carry her?”

  “No, since she’s calmed down, let’s not take the chance of riling her up again,” I said, looking around as I tried to figure out a game plan for how I was going to pull it off.

  “She’s a pretty big dog,” Rooster said. “Are you sure you’re going to be able to lift her?”

  “I’m going to have to, right?” I said, carefully placing my arms underneath the dog and flinching as I waited for her response. “Good girl.”

  “See if you can do it without getting your face bitten off,” Rooster said.

  “Thanks, Coach,” I said, lifting the dog and standing up on the frozen ground. “Turn the stern around. I’ll see if I can set her down on the back cushion.”

  “Hang on,” Rooster said, stepping back into the water and gasping. He grabbed the side of the boat and turned it until the stern was facing me, about five feet away. “Watch that first step. It really gets your attention.”

  “Yeah, thanks for the warning,” I said, stepping into the water clutching the dog with both arms. “Oh, that’s brutal.” I took a small step, then another, and lifted the dog onto the boat and set her down on the padded cushion that ran across the stern. “Good girl.”

  Rooster climbed into the boat, extended a hand and pulled me in. I landed with a thud on the deck, soaked from the waist down and colder than I’d ever been in my life. He grabbed a stack of towels and blankets, and I wrapped one of the blankets around me then headed for the dog. I gently dried the shivering dog with a towel, then used a second to finish the job. I wrapped a blanket around the dog leaving only her head exposed. The dog whimpered and continued to shake from the cold, but the howling had stopped.

  “Okay,” Rooster said. “Take your pants off.”

  “Oh, Rooster. You’re such a sweet talker,” I deadpanned as I caught the pair of sweatpants he tossed to me. “How come you have extra clothes on the boat?”

  “For times like this, why do you think?” he said, also changing into a pair of sweats. Then he threw a pair of wool socks to me. “Get those on and try to keep them as dry as possible.”

  I pulled the thick socks on and immediately felt a bit better as my feet began to warm up.

  “How she’s doing?” Rooster said, firing up the engine.

  “It’s too early to tell,” I said, cradling the dog in my arms as I shivered uncontrollably. “Let’s get going, okay?”

  “Yeah,” Rooster said, accelerating before coming to an abrupt stop and backing the boat up. “Hang on.”

  “Rooster, we’re both about fifteen minutes from the onset of severe hypothermia,” I snapped. “Let’s go.”

  “Wait,” he said, scanning the withered marsh then pointing. “Look over there. About forty-five degrees, starboard.”

  I followed his arm, scanned the area, then grimaced. I hugged the dog tighter and did my best to ignore the throbbing pain in my legs.

  “Is that a hand sticking up out of the water?” I whispered.

  “It certainly is,” Rooster said, again removing his boots. “Now we know why the dog was out here. Probably her owner. I’ll be right back.”

  “Be careful,” I said, reaching for my phone.

  Rooster removed his sweatpants and socks, slid back into the water and waded his way onto solid ground. I watched as he grabbed the man’s hand and pulled the body out of the water onto a section of trampled, semi-frozen marshland. He flipped the body over and shook his head. Despite his reputation as a man who could deal with whatever Mother Nature decided to throw his way, Rooster was shaking from head to toe.

  “He’s dead, right?” I said, hugging the dog tighter as much for my own warmth as hers.

  “Yeah, he certainly is,” Rooster said, glancing around, apparently unsure about his next move. “He’s still bleeding from the shoulder, but I’m gonna guess the shot knocked him into the water and he drowned.”

  “I’ll call the Chief,” I said. “But we can’t sit here and wait for him. We have to get the dog to Josie, and we need to dry off before we freeze to death.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Rooster said. “Toss me one of those wet towels.”

  I let go of the dog and shivered uncontrollably as I grabbed a towel from the deck, got to my feet and tossed it toward him. It landed with a splash near the bank, and Rooster grabbed it then tied it to a dead branch about three feet off the ground.

  “Can you see that?” he said.

  “I can,” I said, dialing the Chief’s number. “Let’s go. Get back in the boat. There’s nothing more you can do for him at the moment.”

  I sat back down and hugged the dog with both arms. She was still shaking and whimpering. Rooster made the short trip back through the shallow water and climbed into the boat. He dried himself off the best he could, then put the sweats and socks back on. The Chief finally answered on the fifth ring.

  “Hey,” Chief Abrams said. “What’s up?”

  “We’ve got a problem here,” I said. “Actually, several.”

  “What happened?” he said, concerned.

  Rooster fired up the engine and pressed the throttle hard. The boat accelerated and planed over. He glanced over his shoulder and yelled to make himself heard over the roar.

  “Your place, right?”

  I nodded as another wave of shivers came over me. Then I remembered the dog bite. I glanced down at the bandana wrapped around my hand and realized it was dripping blood.

  “Suzy? Are you still there?” the Chief said.

  “Yeah. Look, you need to grab Freddie and get out to Willow Place right away,” I yelled above the roar of the engine, hugging the dog tight.

  “I need to grab Freddie?” he said, his voice deflated.

  “I’m afraid so,” I said. “We won’t be here, but you’ll see a light green towel tied to a branch about a quarter-mile down from the deep-water entrance on the right.”

  “Who is it?” Chief Abrams said.

  “Actually, that’s a good question,” I said, frowning. “I have no idea.” I lowered the phone and yelled to Rooster. “Do you know who the victim is?”

  “I do,” Rooster called back without slowing down. “It’s Skitch Friendly.”

  The last name registered briefly, but no one specific came to mind.

  “It’s somebody named Skitch Friendly,” I said to the Chief.

  “Skitch Friendly?” the Chief said. “I thought he was dead.”

  “He is. I just told you that,” I said, rubbing the dog’s head with my bandaged hand and getting blood all over her.

  “Don’t start,” the Chief said. “What else is going on? You said you had more than one problem.”

  “The noise that Peggy reported was actually a dog that got her leg caught in a muskrat trap,” I said. “We’re on our way to the Inn so Josie can take a look at her.”

  “Poor thing,” the Chief said. “Anything else?”

  “Rooster and I got soaked trying to rescue her.”

  “You guys went in the water?” the Chief said.

  “We did.”

  “Are you out of your mind?”

  “Yeah, I’m almost positive,” I said
, shivering and leaning down to block the wind the best I could. “Oh, and the dog bit me.”

  “You got bit by a dog? Where?”

  “On the hand,” I said.

  “Unbelievable,” he said. “How’s the dog doing?”

  “Better than I am at the moment,” I said, trying to stop my teeth from chattering. “But she’s in pretty bad shape.”

  “Don’t worry, Josie will work her magic,” the Chief said. “Okay, be safe and try to stay warm. I’ll track Freddie down.”

  “Sorry to drag you out here,” I said.

  “Well, at least it gets me out of the meeting,” the Chief said, managing a small laugh. “Do you want me to say anything to your mother?”

  “No, you better let me handle it,” I said.

  “Okay. I’ll touch base with you later, and we’ll compare notes,” the Chief said.

  “Got it. Thanks, Chief.”

  “How cold is the water?”

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

  Chapter 3

  Rooster pulled into our dock in front of the Inn where Sammy and Jill were waiting with a stack of blankets and towels. Jill grabbed the bow and Sammy headed for the stern where I was standing with the dog in my arms. She was still shivering and growled when Sammy reached out with both hands. Then he caught a glimpse of my bandaged hand and pulled his arms back.

  “Did she do that to you?” Sammy said, nodding at the blood-soaked bandana.

  “Yeah, be careful,” I said, extending the dog toward him. “Good girl. Who’s the good girl?”

  “She’s shaking like a leaf,” Sammy said, again reaching out. “And you’re doing a pretty good job yourself. What happened?”

  “Sammy, I’m really not in the mood to chat,” I snapped, my arms cramping from the dog’s weight.

  Sammy knelt down, accepted the dog from me, and grimaced as he waited for the dog’s reaction. But the dog had apparently decided we were there to help her, and she relaxed into Sammy’s arms. He immediately started down the dock and then up the small incline that led to the Inn.

  “Is Josie ready for her?” I said to Jill.

  “She is,” Jill said, then glanced at Rooster. “You want me to tie the boat off?”

  “No, thanks,” Rooster said. “I need to get home to shower and warm up. But you need to give Suzy a hand getting out of the boat.”

  Jill did, and I stood shivering on the dock as Rooster backed the boat out.

  “I’ll give you a call later,” Rooster said. “If I make it.”

  “Don’t even joke about that,” I said, frowning at him. “Hey, we’re having dinner with my mom at C’s tonight. Why don’t you join us?”

  “What time?”

  “Seven.”

  “Good Lord willing, I’ll be there,” he called out as he accelerated and headed off with a wave.

  “Let’s get you inside,” Jill said, draping a blanket over my shoulders as we headed down the dock.

  I moved as fast as my cold, cramping legs would allow, and I eventually made it up the front steps and waited for Jill to open the door. I stepped inside and was greeted by all four house dogs. Chloe, my Aussie Shepherd, immediately sensed something was wrong and maintained contact with my legs until I sat down. She hopped up on the chair next to mine and draped her head in my lap. Jill knelt down in front of me, removed my socks, then reached under my spacious sweatpants and began vigorously massaging my feet and calves. Michele, one of our staff members, entered the registration area carrying a steaming mug of tea, and I slowly sipped it as Jill continued to squeeze and rub my feet and lower legs.

  “Ow,” I said, wincing.

  “You feel that?” Jill said, glancing up.

  “Well, yeah,” I snapped.

  “Good. That’s what we want,” she said, continuing her forceful massage. “We need to get the blood flowing.”

  A few minutes later, she stopped and stood.

  “Try walking around a bit,” Jill said.

  I took a few tentative steps, then gently bounced up and down on my feet.

  “Well done,” I said, nodding. “But has anybody ever mentioned that you have the hands of a steelworker?”

  “Okay, she’s back,” Jill said, grinning at Michele. “You should head up to the house and take a long, hot shower.”

  “No, I need to see how the dog is doing. Where’s Josie?”

  “Exam room 3,” Jill said. “Let me at least bring you some dry clothes.”

  “That you can do,” I said, taking a moment to pet all four dogs before gingerly heading toward the exam room.

  Inside, Josie and Inga, one of our newer techs, had the dog stretched out on a table. She was wrapped in warm blankets, and Inga had her hands underneath them and was massaging the dog’s back legs.

  “Hey,” Josie said, glancing up when I entered. “How was your swim?”

  “Just peachy,” I said, making a face at her. “How’s she doing?”

  “She’s one lucky dog,” Josie said. “If you guys hadn’t found her, she’d be a popsicle by now. Good job.”

  “Thanks,” I said, gently rubbing the dog’s head.

  Jill entered carrying a bowl, and I recognized the smell immediately.

  “That’s Chef Claire’s chicken and carrot broth, isn’t it?” I said, my stomach rumbling.

  “It is,” Jill said. “I stuck it in the microwave. I think it’s warm enough.”

  Josie stuck the tip of her finger into the bowl and nodded.

  “That’s fine,” Josie said. “Let’s see if she’ll drink it.”

  Jill set the bowl down on the exam table, and the dog lifted its head then began lapping up the warm broth.

  “She likes it,” Jill said.

  “Good,” Josie said. “That should help get her core temp back up.”

  “Did you get an x-ray yet?”

  “I did,” Josie said, pulling back one of the blankets to check the dog’s abdomen. “Her leg is broken right above the paw. Her carpals are pretty much snapped in half.”

  “But you can fix it with surgery, right?” I said, noticing the hot water bottle resting on the dog’s stomach.

  “I can,” Josie said, nodding. “I’ll probably need to put a plate in there, so there goes her dance career. But it’s better than losing the leg.”

  “When will she be ready for surgery?” I said.

  “It’s hard to say,” Josie said, glancing at me. “But I’m gonna say a week, maybe two.”

  “What?” I said, frowning at her.

  Josie reached down and removed the hot water bottle. I stared at the dog’s distended abdomen.

  “She’s pregnant?” I said, stunned.

  “Very much so,” Josie said, sliding the water bottle back in place.

  “How the heck did I miss that?”

  “I imagine you were a little preoccupied trying to save her life,” Josie said, shrugging. “But there’s no way I’m going to put her under until she delivers her litter. The anesthesia could kill the pups.” Josie placed her stethoscope on the dog’s chest and listened carefully for several seconds. “Her vitals are pretty good considering what she went through. After her core temp is back to normal, I’ll get a splint on the leg to immobilize it, then we’ll get her into a condo and give her a mild sedative.”

  “The poor thing,” I said, shaking my head.

  “What kind of dog is she?” Inga said.

  “Otterhound,” Josie and I said in unison.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen one before,” Inga said, adjusting the blankets.

  “You’re not alone,” Josie said. “There’s less than a thousand of them worldwide.”

  “Yeah, they’re pretty rare,” I said. “And I had no idea somebody around here had one.” I glanced at Josie. “Did you?”

  “No,” she said, shaking her head. “Jill, she’s finished the broth, but it looks like she’s still hungry. Why don’t you give her a little more?”

  “I’ll be right back,” Jil
l said, grabbing the empty bowl and heading out the door that led to the back area of the Inn.

  “Were they bred to hunt otters?” Inga said. “Is that how they got their name?”

  “It is,” Josie said, nodding as she stroked the dog’s wet beard that hung down from her mouth. “And Otterhounds have a double coat and webbed feet, so they’re really good in the water. That double coat might have been what saved her life.” She glanced at me. “Apart from you and Rooster, of course.”

  “We were lucky we were close by,” I said, shrugging. “They hunt on scent. I imagine she picked up all sorts of smells in that marsh. She must have been going crazy looking for critters out there.”

  “I’m sure she was,” Josie said. “Speaking of which, did you see the owner?”

  “Yeah, I’m pretty sure we saw him,” I said, my neurons flaring as I flashed back to the body we’d found.

  “What did he have to say?” Josie said, swapping out one of the blankets with a fresh one.

  “Not much,” I said, using my good hand to help her get the blanket tucked under the dog.

  “Well, we’ll need to have a chat with him,” Josie said. “We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

  “That’s probably not gonna happen,” I said.

  “Why not?”

  “Because the Chief and Freddie are out there at the moment dealing with him,” I said, frowning.

  “Really? Another one?” Josie said, scowling.

  “I’m afraid so,” I said.

  “Geez,” Josie said, shaking her head. “Should I even ask what happened to him?”

  “I really don’t know,” I said. “But I’m sure we’ll be talking about it at dinner.”

  “Okay,” she said, reaching for my bandaged hand. “Let’s take a look at that bite.”

  She gently unwrapped the bandana then tossed it into the trashcan. She lowered an overhead light and switched it on then bent down to take a closer look at my wound.

  “Wow, she got you good,” Josie said. “You sure you don’t want to go to the emergency room?”

  “No, that’s not necessary,” I said. “Just clean and stitch it. And I’m current on my tetanus shot.”