The animal control worker crouched low, speaking softly, his voice deliberate and calm. He edged forward a step at a time, the catch pole angled but not yet extended. The dog’s growl vibrated through the earth, his body arched protectively over the bundle.
Another officer flanked the opposite side, sweeping his flashlight over the ditch. The beam illuminated the crumpled blanket, catching the faintest stir beneath its folds. Tina’s chest clenched; even with help here, she couldn’t shake the terror of what they might uncover.
The dog barked once, sharp and feral, before collapsing back into a trembling whine. His tail curled tight, body a shield, eyes wet with the impossible conflict of protecting and pleading. The rescuers exchanged glances, tension stretched taut as a wire.
“Easy now,” the animal control worker murmured, lowering the pole slightly. He gestured for the others to wait, then inched closer, glove-clad hand hovering near the fabric. Tina held her breath, nails digging crescents into her palms, every second endless.
Top Articles
