In Another Life
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Excerpt - Chapter 19 of "In Another Life"

The next morning, as I walked out of the MagicDonut, caffeine and pastry in hand, I saw a pitiful sight. A young boxer somehow got himself tangled into a fence by the remnants of his chain. Setting my breakfast on the passenger-side floor of my truck, I went over to help.

The bundle of brindle was not pleased. Teeth bared, tail between the legs, this little rocky was scared and ready to defend himself.

I talked to the pup as I unraveled the chain and he immediately tried to take off. I yanked on the chain and surprisingly, he stopped. “Sit!” I commanded, and he sat. I guided him to my truck and he hopped into the cab.

“So much for a couple of rounds with this boxer,” I thought to myself.
I had a new friend.

I checked the collar but found no tags. I went inside the donut shop and asked the waitress if anyone was missing a boxer. The waitress said “no” but she’d send anyone who came in looking for one to headquarters.

I thanked her and checked the bulletin board near the door on my way out.
A quick check of the poles around the shop indicated no missing dogs but I learned the high school was doing a rendition of “Grease” and the local bar was having a “Guys on the pole night?” WTF? I definitely don’t need to get out more, I thought to myself.

I brought him to the station and found myself at the front desk. Sgt. Ozorowicz, “Oz” to the guys, took one look that bordered on a sneer, at my new BFF and shook his head. “Ya need the scanner, Rog?” he asked. “Just don’t let him piss on the desks.” Oz was obviously enamored with the boxer.

I grabbed the scanner, scanned the boxer’s upper back and immediately got a hit on a chip. I transcribed the numbers onto a scrap of paper and asked Oz to track down the owner. Then, I handed the scanner back and asked Oz to have an officer put the pup in a cell until his owners came for him.

“And get him a drink and something to eat,” I added.

“Rog, I think he’s probably full,” Oz said.

I looked at the pup’s mouth and noticed what appeared to be a thin, white mustache and goatee on his mouth. I let out a “Eeek!, a little bit too loudly.
I ran back to my truck and sure enough, the little bandit must have gotten into my breakfast because the bag was open and my favorite breakfast, two vanilla cream donuts, was missing.

Apparently a coffee snob, the mutt didn’t like MagicDonut coffee. The cup was full. I’ll have to remember to get a Carmel Macchiato the next time I leave my breakfast for a discerning K-9.  

I threw away the bag and brought my coffee into the station. As I passed the desk, Oz was laughing as I said, “That little monster! Book him for theft and receiving! He ate my breakfast.”

Apparently, Oz told a few people about my morning. I did some work at my desk for a few minutes and then hit the bathroom.

When I got back, there were a dozen white cream filled donuts on my desk, in a box that had a perfect paw print with the words “Thanks for a lovely breakfast and a fun morning. Love, Karl,” written on top. 

I guess they found the boxer’s owner and the pup was named “Karl.” Either that or I needed to buy someone name Karl a dozen roses and a cute card.

 

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