The Darkness We Hide

Sitting on her sofa, Michelle allowed Mrs. Crabtree’s to fuss about the injury on her chin as she slipped out of her jacket. All in all, it wasn’t too bad.

"Doesn't look like you'll need stitches," the older woman sighed in relief.

The younger woman had bruises on her arms from hitting the pavement, and her hands were torn up from not only the fall, but from the animals teeth as well. Her clothes were a loss, the jacket collar shredded and her pants covered in muck that she didn’t even want to guess it had once been. Thankfully the bites to her calf weren’t too bad, it hadn’t broken the skin, just left several painful bruises.

“Who in their right mind would have a dog like that?” Mrs. Crabtree asked, offering Michelle an ice pack.

“I just don’t know,” Michelle replied. “An animal like that deserves to be in the wilderness.

“What kind of dog was it anyway?” she continued, wincing as she pressed the cold pack to her forearm. “I didn’t get a good look at it, except for its teeth.

“I mean, what little I saw I thought it was like a huskie or something,” she added.

“That wasn’t a huskie,” Mrs. Crabtree said, putting on the kettle for tea. “It was too big to be a huskie, or a malamute. It looked more like a wolf.”

“A wolf?” Michelle asked, her head snapping up. “Not here so far in the city. I mean, unless it escaped from the zoo or something.”

“Maybe someone around here has an unlicensed hybrid,” Mrs. Crabtree offered, finally finding Michelle’s box of tea.

“Whoever it was should be prosecuted for letting it roam free,” she added pulling out two coffee mugs.

“I’m just glad it didn’t break the skin,” Michelle sighed, looking down at the marks on her shoe.

“You were lucky,” the older woman agreed as the kettle whistled. "I'm just glad you let me contact the police."

Accepting a steaming cup, Michelle jumped at the knock on her door.

Mrs. Crabtree answered, opening it wide for her husband to step in.

“We didn’t find anything,” the older man said, sinking into an empty armchair. “There wasn’t even so much as a drop of blood.”

“The police should notify animal control,” Mrs. Crabtree asked, handing her husband a mug.

“They did love," he replied, cautiously sipping the hot liquid. “Other than searching, I don’t see the Seattle police department would be able to do much about it.”

“Even for an animal that size?” his wife urged. “It was huge.”

“He’s right,” Michelle interrupted. “The only thing they could do would be to announce the attack to the public. That would just cause a panic.

"Our best bet is to let animal control look into it," she continued, sipping from her cup. "They probably have a list or something of who might own an animal like that.

"We just need to make sure that everyone in the neighborhood knows there’s a big, aggressive dog roaming around,” she concluded with a tired sigh.

“What kind of dog was it?” Mr. Crabtree asked.

“I didn’t get a good look at it,” Michelle replied, putting her cup down and reapplying the ice pack to her arm. “I thought it was a huskie or something, but Mrs. Crabtree said it looked more like a wolf.”

“A wolf?” Mr. Crabtree asked, his face showing disbelief. “There wouldn’t be a wolf around here.”

“Maybe some silly person bought a hybrid,” Mre. Crabtree offered.

“That could be,” her husband replied with a nod, “but most likely it was just a big scruffy mutt of some kind.”

“Whatever it was,” Mrs. Crabtree interjected, looking down at Michelle’s injuries, “it needs to be found and put down.”

“Did it have any distinguishing marks?” her husband asked, looking over his bottle rim glasses at his wife.

Michelle and Mrs. Crabtree both shook their heads.

“All I really saw was its teeth,” she sighed, rubbing her scabbed and sore chin.

“Well,” said Mr. Crabtree standing as he looked down at his watch, “we should let you get some rest. We’ll go back to our apartment and call animal control to make sure the police filed a report.

“In the morning,” he paused to chuckle, knowing it was already two in the morning. “Later this morning I will ask the guy down in the copy shop to help me make flyers. We can put them under everyone’s door and make sure the businesses nearby post it up.”

“Thank you,” Michelle replied, moving to see them out.

“No, no,” Mrs. Crabtree scolded, motioning for Michelle to stay seated. “We’ll see ourselves out, you just rest there.”

“Good night,” Michelle replied, gratefully sinking back down. “And thank you for everything. I hate to think what could have happened if you hadn’t been there.”

“Don’t even say such a thing,” the older woman chastised. “I don’t even want to imagine.”