Gus Clark (Ch. 5)

Chapter 5

Gus got out of his truck and walked up to the side door of his house. Movement was achy, but tolerable. By the time he selected the correct key to unlock the door, he could already hear Q barking and baying on the other side of the wooden fence surrounding the backyard, heard him bolt through the collar-activated doggy door in the back, and barrel through the house to meet him at the door. As soon as the door was opened, Gus was all but knocked over by his house mate. He was greeted with half bark, half whine, as Q licked his face over and over. Gus laughed and groaned, as his injuries revolted against the sudden movements.

"Ah! No! Cúchulainn Tiberius Maximus Clark! Off!" Gus let out, as soon as he could get a breath in.

Upon hearing his full name, Q backed off and sat down right in front of Gus. Somewhat unsuccessfully, though, as his tail was wagging so hard that his entire bottom half was moving back and forth in rhythm. Beside his propensity to give long, ridiculous names and titles to his pets, Cúchulainn's name was rightly earned.

Gus had found him at a local shelter. He was in pretty bad shape, covered in cuts, and missing half of one of his floppy ears. It seems he was found by animal control when there had been reports of dogs fighting near a local park. A larger breed had been harassing and attacking one of the smaller strays in a little-visited corner of the park. Cúchulainn, despite being a mixed breed runt, fearlessly stepped in between the unfair fight, and defended the smaller dog. He was found near the body of the gravely injured attacker, curled up protectively around the smaller dog, and nearly bleeding to death himself.

When Gus heard the story, he immediately thought of the stories of Irish myths that his grandfather would tell him, and of the famous Irish hero Cúchulainn, who was forced to kill a ferocious guard dog in self-defense. It was a reminder to Gus that you didn't have to be big, or tough, or perfect to stand up for what is right, you just needed to have the courage to do so. Most times, everyone who knew the brave and loyal dog just shortened his name to Q, but appreciated the name when they learned his story.

Gus reached over and scratched behind both of Q's ears, then gingerly leaned over and kissed him on the head.

"Missed you, too, bud. May take good care of you while I was gone?"

As they walked through the door into the kitchen, Gus looked down at his companion's food bowl. There were still some chunks of cut up steak and sweet potatoes remaining.

"Geez, man," he said as he looked down at Q. "Have her wrapped around your proverbial finger, I see..."

Q tilted his head slightly, and opened his mouth, allowing his tongue to loll out to the side. Gus swore it looked like he was smiling. Q's happy panting stopped nearly as soon as it had started, and his good ear pricked up. He sat, staring into the distance for a moment, and then Gus saw the hair on his back rise as he emitted a low growl. Something was wrong. Q normally get excited for people visiting, rare occasion that it was, but this was more akin to fear.