After The Jolt had a dognapper arrested, all but one of the stolen dogs were claimed by owners. The Jolt kept the remaining pup.
She named the labradoodle “Kick,” short for sidekick, and soon The Jolt and Kick patrolled Hooper Street together. Kick wasn’t a fighter, and he was more fluffy than scary, but he had a sixth sense about human nature that The Jolt, despite her years of crime fighting, did not possess.
One day, after letting Kick outside to pee, The Jolt was surprised to find a bone in her dog’s mouth upon his return. Thinking it just an old treat a neighbour tossed Kick’s way, The Jolt ignored it. Until the next day, when Kick brought back a completely different bone. The first one was still snug in Kick’s dog bed.
“Where are you getting these, boy?” The Jolt asked, taking the bone from Kick’s playfully-snarling jaws.
Kick gave a voiceless, breathy, tonguey answer.
The Jolt stuck her head outside and looked over the fence at who might have been nearby. No one she could see. Who was giving her dog a bone?
The next day, a new bone arrived, but this one looked suspicious, the way it resembled a bow from a bow and arrow, except small. Actually, it looked like the ulna and radius bones from a human forearm. The thought made her shiver, but she convinced herself that wasn’t the case. Until she looked at the original two bones, still lying in Kick’s bed. She had to google an anatomy chart. One of the bones could have been a fibula, and the other could have been a human rib. But they could also be from a cow or something. The Jolt was no doctor.
Day four, The Jolt watched Kick out her window to see who was giving him the bones. No one came near the fence, but at one point Kick dug around under the deck and came back up the stairs with something in his mouth.
“Drop it,” said The Jolt.
Kick was uninterested in this enterprise.
Eventually The Jolt wrestled whatever-it-was from Kick’s mouth. Kick wagged his tale and returned to his bed resignedly.
At first, The Jolt had no idea what bone this was. Then it struck her. It was half a pelvic bone. Definitely human, and torn apart by the look of it.
The Jolt dropped the bone, stuck her head back outside, and puked all over her deck. Kick retrieved his bone, tail wagging.
Today’s three prompt categories were, “The Jolt,” “Torn apart,” and, “Too many bones.”
I may have to come back to this one.