9780008390662

kimu again
Kimu has me.
He drops me to the mud. His teeth smell of blood. My blood.
I drop Rowdy. My teeth smell of blood, too.
For a long time, no words come, just panting, coughing, panting some more.
Nothing from the puppy. I shove him with my paw, nudge him with my nose.
Nothing.
I look at Kimu, his fur spiked, his eyes wild, different, unknowable.
“I guess they didn’t shoot you?” I say.
“They tried,” he says, eyes on the puppy.
“Thank you for . . .” I trail off.
He glances at me. “Didn’t do it for you.” A pause. “Did it for me.”
With his right front paw, he claws at the puppy. At Rowdy.
“Hey,” I say without really thinking. Or registering the size of his paw. Or
realizing that he’s drooling, just a little.
“He, uh.” I put my paw, my puny pathetic loser paw, on Rowdy too. “He’s
my . . . my nephew, and well, I—”
“Didn’t take you for the sentimental sort, Bob.”
“I’m not. Just, you know how it is.”