Ghost Dog Secrets by Peg Kehret Read Free Book Online Page B

tomorrow. Sometimes he checked e-mail from his grandpa’s computer. I wished I could text him because he’d get a text message instantly, but Mom refused to pay the extra monthly fee for text messaging.
    I spent most of the day fretting. What if Ra still couldn’t stand up when Andrew and I were ready to take him? He was too big for us to carry him. He probably needed to be seen by a veterinarian. How would we manage that without telling anyone that we had a dog?
    I called the sheriff ’s department again and asked for Heidi Kellogg. I got her voice mail, which said she’d be back in the office on Monday. I didn’t want to leave a message, so I dialed again and talked to the person who answered.
    â€œI want to report a dog that’s been mistreated,” I said. Then, before I was asked, I gave the address. “I have pictures, one taken every afternoon last week, that show he was kept chained up with no food or water,” I said. “Today he acts as if he’s hurt, like maybe somebody hit him or kicked him or something.”
    â€œDid you witness the abuse?”
    â€œI didn’t see anyone hit the dog, but I know it happened.”
    â€œWhat is your name, please?” the man asked.
    â€œI—uh—I don’t want to give my name,” I said.
    â€œAnonymous complaints are never given as much credence as those where we can check back with the complainant,” he said. “Is this Pat Larson?”
    After a second of stunned silence at hearing my mom’s name, I realized that the sheriff ’s department would have caller ID. He knew what telephone number I was calling from.
    â€œPat Larson is my mom,” I said, “but she’d take away my allowance for a year if she knew I was calling you, so please don’t tell her.”
    The man’s voice softened. “I’ll have someone check on the dog,” he said, “but it’s difficult to prosecute a cruelty case without an eyewitness.” I was pretty sure Andrew was right, and this wouldn’t be top priority on this man’s to-do list. Probably he would pass my message along to Heidi Kellogg.
    After I hung up I wished I hadn’t called. I really didn’t want the sheriff or anyone else to go get Ra. I wanted to rescue him myself. I wanted to bring him home and take care of him and know he was safe.
    I wished we’d gone back with the leash on Friday, after Ra let us pet him. We could have rescued him right then, instead of waiting. At the time we had agreed we should wait another few days, to be sure that Ra would go with us on the leash. If we’d known what was going to happen Saturday night, we would never have waited.
    Well, I told myself, there’s no sense second-guessing yourself now. The important thing is to get Ra away from there as fast as possible. A rapid, remarkable rescue.
    I went back again late in the afternoon, at the usual time, taking Ra’s food and water. As I rode my bike toward Ra’s street, I thought, what if he’s gone again? What if he’s not on the chain? What if he’s inside? Would I have the courage to knock on that door?
    Ra was there. He stood when he saw me, moving slowly as if it hurt to put weight on his legs. He acted hungry but ate only half his food, then lapped a little water.
    At least he’s standing now, I thought. He has to be able to walk from here to the fort tomorrow. We have no other way to get him there.
    Andrew called as soon as he got home from his grandparents’ house. He was as outraged as I was over Ra’s condition. “Crummy, cruel clod,” he said.
    We whispered into the phone, making our plans for the next day. As soon as Ra finished eating, I would unclip the chain and remove the metal choke collar. Next we’d buckle the soft new sun collar around his neck and snap the leash on. Then we would lead Ra away from his captor and into his happy new life.
    Thinking about