So I joined a writing group in my new town. So far, so great. Good folks, good discussions, supportive, smart. While waiting for the monthly discussion to begin, one of the women tossed out a writing prompt, if we wanted a topic for the next month: Alleys. Take a walk or look at some alleys in town and write about it. Or a different alley. Whatever. This is a short story I wrote in about 4 hours. It likely requires some editing, since I’ve not shared it yet.

Dogtown

2023

I.

Dan Findley and his black, mostly Labrador dog, Buster, sped along 169 toward the town. The radio blasted a popular song, and the two sang along, both howling in their own key. 

Dan had adopted Buster two years prior, and now the two were rarely apart. They shared a special bond; he’d taught the dog to leap and catch a Frisbee, lie down on command, and fetch his slippers every evening. And Buster had in turn taught Dan about having compassion, responsibility, and patience, as dogs often do.

Dan slowed the vehicle as they approached town and the speed limit dropped. These small towns are usually speed traps, he thought to himself. Buster sat calmly with his head stuck out of the passenger window, tongue lolling in the wind. 

“We made it, boy!” Dan said, reaching out to affectionately pat Buster firmly on his  side. The panting dog looked at him and tried wagging his tail, which just slapped loudly on the seat and console separating them, sending poofs of black hairs into the car with each thump.

 He pulled into a gas station and stepped out of the car, stretching. He planned to quickly fill-up and take Buster to the alley around back for a much-needed bathroom break. They’d have to get right back on the road and continue their drive if they wanted to make it to the campground before dark, and they’d already been on the road for five hours.

Dan paid at the pump with his card and topped-off the tank, then walked to the passenger side to let Buster out. Buster bounded out of the vehicle, tail wagging, sensing he would soon be able to relieve himself. 

“Come on boy!” Dan slapped his thigh and started to head towards the side of the station. 

A man filling his truck at the next pump glared at them and spit a wad of chewing tobacco on the ground. “Son of a bitch.” He mumbled. 

Dan saw this as he’d turned to make sure Buster was closely following behind. “Real tourist-friendly town here.” He said quietly to the dog, shrugging.

They rounded the corner of the building to the alley, and Dan commanded, “Okay boy, do your thing!”

Buster ran ahead a few steps, sniffing the ground wildly until he found a spot near a lilac bush, lifted his leg, and peed in the small patch of grass. He scratched the ground, took a few more steps, and squatted to poop.

“Hey!” An angry voice shouted. “What in the hell do you think you’re doing?” 

Dan turned to see the man from the truck storming towards him. 

“Just letting my dog relieve himself. We’ve been on the road for…” The man shoved Dan with force and sent him stumbling backwards. 

“What the fuck, man!” Dan shouted in response. “I’ve got a bag in my pocket!” He shouted, pulling a small folded piece of blue plastic from his jeans to show him.

“No dogs!” The man shouted angrily. His face was red with rage. 

“Sorry man, I didn’t know.”

“Didn’t you see the fucking signs driving into town? No dogs!” The man spat.

“No, I didn’t see any fucking signs.” Dan retorted, puffing out his chest.

The man walked towards Buster and grabbed him roughly by the collar. The dog yelped in surprise.

“Get your hands off my dog!” Dan yelled.

The man tried to drag Buster back towards the direction they’d come, but the playful dog, somehow oblivious to the confrontation, tried to leap and affectionately lick the man. “Knock it off!” He shouted, pulling the dog harshly downward by his collar. Buster gagged.

Dan tried to grab the dog when the man pulled his arm and let a fist fly, hitting him solidly in the cheek. Dan staggered, and tried to steady himself, holding his jaw with one hand and the dog with the other. 

The dog twisted and pulled, freeing himself from the clutches of the two men, and bounded a few yards ahead before turning and barking twice at the pair.

The man again swung to punch him again, but Dan was able to turn quickly, and the blow glanced lightly off his shoulder.

“What is your problem?” Dan yelled, stepping backwards.

“You’re the fucking problem.” The man growled. “You and your dog.”

Just then another man came around the side of the gas station, having heard the commotion. 

“John? What’re ya doin’?” The new man on the scene called to the other.

“This son of a bitch…and his dog here…” The man replied, gesturing towards Dan and Buster.

“Call the cops!” Dan demanded. “He attacked me! He’s crazy!”

“Oh I’ll call the cops, alright.” The new man said, pulling a phone out of his pocket.

“Thank you.” Dan and his attacker said in unison.

“Thank you?” Dan said incredulously. “You’re going to jail, you stupid redneck!”

“Oh, I don’t think so.” Purred the man he now knew was named John.

II.

Within just minutes, a squad car rolled up the alley and stopped. A gray haired uniformed cop emerged, holding his billy club in one hand, and slapping it in the palm of the other. “What do we have here?” The policeman inquired skeptically.

“That bastard attacked me for no reason!” Dan told the officer.

“No reason? Dale, he’s got a dog with him.” John said, gesturing towards Buster, who was now laying in the shade near the lilacs.

“A dog?” The officer asked, peering at Dan over his sunglasses. “Dogs are illegal here, son. You’ll be coming with me. And that dog of yours will be euthanized.”

“What?” Screamed Dan, not believing what he was hearing. “That bastard assaulted me!” Dan reached up to touch his fattened lip and throbbing jaw.

“You are under arrest.” The cop said, grabbing Dan’s arm. Dan started to pull away, but the officer tightened his grip. “Don’t be resisting now, you’ll just make things worse.” 

“Worse? How could shit get worse? What kind of town arrests dog owners?” Dan snapped back.

“A caring kind of town.” One of the other men said. “You don’t bring something as dangerous as a goddamn dog into our town.”

1988

I.

The car was packed with a veritable who’s who of the school. Music blasted as the car slowed to a stop midway down the avenue, and the newly-crowned Homecoming queen climbed from the back driver’s-side door. She stumbled briefly, seeming to forget she was in a formal gown and heels. Laughing as she waved them off, the car rolled away, bass thumping and raucous teen chattering disturbing the silence of the small town night.

Alicia Grant was the most beautiful and popular girl in town, and she adjusted the small rhinestone crown on her head before lifting the front of her gown off the ground and cheerfully heading down the dark alley towards her family home. She felt positively intoxicated; all of her dreams were coming true. 

She’d only walked a few steps, when an immense white dog appeared directly in front of her, growling ferociously with teeth bared. Her heart raced as she gripped the dress tighter, freezing in position. 

RRRAWF! RAWF! RRRAWF!

 The beast’s terrifying, thundering barks echoed down the alley as the girl took a step slowly backwards, watching the dog intently.

Her mind raced, terrified. Should she turn and run? Could she somehow show that she was no threat? 

The dog took another step towards her, growling. She took another step backwards as her heel caught on the uneven gravel and sent her tumbling to the ground. The massive Great Pyrenees lunged and was on top of her in an instant. It bit into her arms as she tried to cover her face, she screamed in pain as again and again the dog’s teeth tore into the flesh of her arms and legs. 

When she tried to strike the dog, it clamped down on her hand and bit with such force, the nauseating sound of bones crunching made Alicia scream even louder. But the mad dog continued its attack. The coroner would later determine she was bitten over 50 times over the next two minutes or so until the final, massive bite severed both of her carotid arteries in her beautiful thin neck.

II.

“It’s the goddamn dogs. They’ve gotta go. I’m sick of the shitting, the barking, and the entitlement of the motherfucking owners!” The middle-aged man in a baseball cap said into the microphone. The packed crowd clapped and nodded in agreement. Dogs would have to go. 

So the city council took a vote and unanimously decided that from now on, the small Minnesota town would be dog-free. No dogs allowed anywhere within the city limits. If you owned a dog, you had 30 days to find it a new home, outside of city limits. No exceptions. No small dogs, no hunting dogs, no matter if you’ve raised that dog from a pup. The crowd again clapped and felt a smug sense of accomplishment. Alicia Grant’s death was the catalyst for the change they needed. Her horrible death would not be in vain. Peace was restored in the town and that’s how it would stay forever. 

2023

III.

Dan sat on a cot in a small holding cell in the town jail. Officer Dale Checnik sat at his desk just feet away, talking  on the phone with the county sheriff.

“He says he didn’t see the signs, Hank.” The cop said.

Dan sighed. How had he missed these alleged signs, and what kind of shithole town doesn’t allow dogs? He wondered to himself. 

“I know.” The officer chuckled. “Yup…yup…right. Well, you see…yup. Alright now.” He set the receiver in its cradle. 

He leaned back, set his feet on the corner of his desk, and leaned towards Dan.  “Looks like it’s your lucky day. The sheriff has to head up to International Falls for a shooting there, and won’t be able to take you down to Duluth until Monday. So you get an extended stay at the Crowbar Hotel.” He smirked. 

“Where’s my dog? Where’s Buster?” Dan asked angrily.

“Well, that lucky dog has a stay of execution, because the doc is out of town and also won’t be back until Monday night.”

“Can’t I just pay my fine and be on my way? I’ll leave town and never come back.” Dan offered.

“It’s much more serious than just a fine.” The officer said, shaking his head.

“What kind of sick town kills dogs who did nothing?”

“Oh I beg to differ.” Officer Checnik interjected. “Dogs like him ruined our town, shitting wherever they pleased, barking at all hours, and running roughshod, becoming more and more brazen along with their owners. Then the dogs eventually turned to murder.”

“Murder?” Dan questioned.

“Killed Miss Alicia Grant, the girl who had everything. She was going places. Could have done anything in the world. The whole town knew she was destined for greatness. She would have put this town on the map.” The officer looked down at his chest and sucked his teeth.

“Oh, so a girl is horribly mauled and killed and you outlaw all dogs. Wow.” Dan said, shaking his head.

“Damn straight.” Dale said, sitting up and placing his feet solidly on the floor. “It wasn’t just her death though. I told you. The crapping, the public urination, burning flowers and lawns. The off-leash dashing around the farmer’s market, or terrorizing the Raspberry Festival in the park. It was chaos. Pure chaos.”He continued,  “Concerned citizens tried leash laws, ordinances against barking, registration…nothing worked. The owners were oblivious and thought everyone loved their dogs as much as they did.” He took a drink from a BWCA mug on his desk and continued, “You act like we haven’t suffered.”

Dan took a deep breath and remained silent for a few moments before saying, “What does that have to do with anything? Sounds like the pet owners are the problem, not the dogs.”

“You a good pet owner?” The officer sneered.

“I am.” Dan responded.

“You train him?”

“Sure. He can catch a Frisbee, fetch slippers…”

Officer Cheknik interrupted, “You should’ve trained him to read signs.” He rose from his desk and walked across the room to fill his mug from the heated carafe near the sink.

Just then, a young woman burst into the room. “Dale!” She panted. “There’s a mob forming, and they want blood! You’ve gotta go talk to them! John Kowalski and that idiot buddy of his, Randy Hillman are calling for a lynching!” She clenched her sides to stop the cramps she felt from running several blocks.

“Oh this is ridiculous!” Dan exclaimed, rising from the cot.

“Shut up!” The girl and cop turned and shouted at him in unison. The girl had long dreadlocks, and tattoos covering her arms. Dan noticed one of the tattoos appeared to be a Scottie dog.

“You’ve gotta do something! Now!” She commanded the officer.

“Well now, Carla, don’t be gettin’ all excited and worked up. Those two aren’t going to do anything stupid.”

SMASH!

At that moment a rock crashed through the window above the sink and landed with a loud thud on the linoleum floor.

“Jesus Christ!” The officer yelled, leaping away from the exploding glass.

“I told you!” Carla shot back, annoyed.

A voice called from outside over an electronic megaphone. “Give us the dog owner, Dale!” The voice commanded. Dan at once recognized it as the man who had attacked him at the gas station.

Officer Dale leaned against the sink and cautiously stuck his face close to the broken window. “Go home, John. Don’t be starting trouble here tonight. You’re drunk. Go home, sleep it off, and come fix this window tomorrow and we’ll never speak of this.” He shouted through the jagged hole.

“That’s not gonna happen.” The broadcasting voice crackled. “Bring him out and hand him over, or we light the place on fire.”

“He’s serious.” Carla said. 

Officer Dale stepped back from the sink and turned to look at Dan. He fingered the large key ring hanging on his hip.

“You can’t be considering handing me over to them!” Dan shrieked, his voice cracking.

“Look what you’ve done.” Dale seethed. “Turning good people into a pitchfork wielding mob!”

“Look what I did?” Dan bellowed. “It’s your stupid laws that did this!”

Carla spoke now directly to Dan, “Mister, you don’t understand. They grew up in a generation without dogs. They only know what they’ve been told about dogs. They’ve never been pet owners! Sure, cats, some of them…maybe. But cats don’t even need humans. They’ve never owned or been around a dog. Seeing your dog at the gas station was probably the closest they’ve ever been to a dog in their entire lives!”

Dan looked at her and pleaded, “But my Buster, he’s gentle! He wouldn’t hurt a flea.”

“Give us the dog owner!” John demanded over the megaphone again.

The anger in his voice made Dan shudder. Officer Dale looked at him and shrugged.

“What?” Dan exclaimed. “You can’t honestly be considering handing me over to a mob!” He pleaded.

“Dale, no!” Carla exclaimed. “They’ll kill him.”

“Listen to her!” Dan begged.

More angry shouting could be heard from the apparently growing mob outside.

Dale looked at Dan and back over at Carla. “You’re right. They will probably kill him. But he did bring a damn dog into town.” He reasoned. 

“But they will flat out murder him for it!” Carla yelled at the policeman. “Is that what you want? His blood will be on your hands.”

“Carla, maybe you’re too young to remember the dogs pooping everywhere and no one picking it up…the barking at night, barking at every goddamn delivery driver, Alicia Grant…but I remember. I remember it all. Maybe he deserves what they’ll do to him.” The officer took the ring of keys from his hip and approached the cell, flipping through the keys.

He opened the cell door. “Out with you.” He gestured for Dan to exit the cell.

“Oh hell no!” Dan exclaimed. “I’m not going out there!”

Someone in the crowd began banging loudly on the door. “Hand him over! Hand him over!” They chanted repeatedly from outside.

“Get out there, boy.” The officer commanded. 

“Fuck no!” Dan cried.

 “I said get out there, boy!” Dale snarled, yanking Dan by the arm.

IV.

Boos and jeers greeted Dan as he was shoved from the town jail’s front doors. Someone in the crowd threw a pinecone at him. There was a rope with a noose hanging over a branch on the large tree in front of the building. “String him up!” Someone shouted. Other voices yelled “Dog lover!” and “Monster!” at Dan.

“Please!” Dan begged. “Let me go! I’ll leave right now! Just give me Buster and we’ll be on our way!” He implored.

“Time’s up!” The ring leader, John, yelled through his megaphone. 

A woman’s blood curdling scream rose above the crowd. The mob turned silent, and looked for its source.

There, in the back of the crowd, a heavyset woman was screaming and pointing at a black dog which had appeared from nowhere.

“Buster!” Dan called. Relieved to see his dog still alive.

The dog looked and ran to Dan, tail wagging. The crowd parted in terror, allowing Buster to run to Dan.

“Good boy! You found me!” Dan said, bending to hug his dog. The crowd gave an audible gasp.

“Sorry,  Dale!”  The young cop who’d been giving chase offered, running into the crowd after the dog. “He busted loose when I was trying to get him in the van.” The young cop who’d been giving chase offered. Dale stood in the doorway of the jailhouse, shaking his head at the scene before him. 

“People!” Dale shouted. “People! Let’s all take a deep breath.” He counseled.

“Remember Alicia!” Someone in the back shouted.

“I remember Alicia.” Dale said soberly to the mob. “I was the one who dropped her off that awful night near the alley.” Dale cleared his throat. “I loved her, and she’s gone now.” He said with a softness.

“She’s dead because of a dog!” John shouted through his megaphone.

“Put that goddamn thing down, John, and let’s talk. Like reasonable people.” Dale insisted.

“We tried reasoning with the dog owners.” John retorted. “We asked them countless times to heel their beasts, to put leashes on them, to pick up their shit! And what did that get us? A murdered homecoming queen!”

“We want a peaceful town!” Someone shouted.

“Right!” Dale yelled. “Peaceful.”

At his feet, Dan continued to hug and grip his pup, letting the happy dog lick his face.

“Oh that is just sick, right there.” Dale said, looking down at them. “You know he licks his own genitals with that mouth, right?”

A sickened groan rose from the crowd.

“Pervert!” Someone shouted.

“People!” Dale yelled, shushing the mob. “As disgusting of a spectacle as this is, I have to say that this has gone far enough! You’re threatening to burn down the jail, lynch a man…and for what? Because he wants to let this ass licking pooch slobber on his face, and wants to spend years following it around picking up its shit in a little bag? Well, as repulsive as I find it, I think we need to consider that maybe, just maybe, all dogs are different. Sure, the one that murdered Alicia was clearly a psychopath, but this fella, and his dumb dog, are somehow different.”

“Different? How?” A voice inquired.

“Different in that, well, Dan seems like a decent pet owner. Yes, he made a mistake bringing a dog here. But we’ve all made mistakes. I think…” His voice trailed off as he heard a handgun cock.

Carla now stood beside him, shakily holding Dale’s gun she’d plucked from its holster at his chest.

“Step back!” She ordered. 

“Now Carla,” Dale began.

“Shut the fuck up!” She shouted. “Step back, I said! You!” She commanded, waving the gun and gesturing to Dan. “Get up, let’s move. Now!”

Dan stood up and grabbed Buster gently by his collar.

“We’re leaving!” She announced. Carla waved Dan and Buster ahead of her, and through the crowd of open-mouthed spectators. 

They walked to Dan’s car, which Dale’s officers had left parked in front of the jail.

“Let’s go!” She ordered Dan. 

Dan hastily opened the car door and pushed the dog inside. He slammed the door and ran to the driver’s side.

“Here!” Carla slid his keys across the car’s roof.

“Get in!” Dan ordered. 

The stunned crowd watched silently as the pair climbed into the vehicle, pulled away from the curb, and with tires squealing, disappeared into the darkness.

“After them!” John yelled through his megaphone.

“Shut up, John!” Dale yelled from the jailhouse steps. “You’ve done enough ordering people around for one day.”

“You’re going to just let them go?” John shrieked back.

“I’m going to let all of you go. Just go home!” Dale ordered. “The nightmare is over.”