Puppy Mill Rescue Ambush

There is another event I need to bring you up to date on, something that happened with Jason an Jessica, something that went very wrong, and made very timely my journey to Grand Lake and Dionna.

Jason called me on a Monday.  He said they were going to pull an op the following Wednesday. He said it might get hairy, that it would be good if I was there, but that they were going if if I was there or not. 

I said OK.  My being gone for a day or so would be good distraction for Jack, from his employment woes.  Or so I thought.  

I made some calls, got three other weredogs to agree to go along.  One of them, Holly, from my pack. The other 2 I know well.  Telling how would require too much story here.  I also called Diella.  I told her the situation, asked if she would like t come along.

She paused for some moments.  I was starting to think she had hung up, or the signal had ben dropped.  Then she said, “A puppy mill rescue?”

“Yep,” I said.

“And you want me to come along?”

“That’s the idea.”

“Why?”

“I got a feeling,” I said.

She paused long enough to lick one side of your mouth before she said, “Alright. I’ll come.”  I gave the coordinates of the rally point.  Before we hung up she said, “What form?”

“Show up in human,” I said.  “From there, your choice.”

I was also nervous about being away from Bella. Her lymphoma is progressing and she is declining - moving slower, eating less.  I dont like her being alone during the day without someone in the house who can use a phone.  Sherry works all day and Jack is gone most days at job fairs and job clubs and interviews and making ad hoc how-ya-doing visits to everyone he knows, in the hopes of drumming up some job leads. 

But, I had to risk it. I would be back within a day, 2 at most. The boys, Sven and Rick, are used to me “running away.”  But, Bella’s lymphoma is not. 

The rally point was half a klick from the target, a remote farm in south-central Missouri.  I smelled 9 people a 100 meters before I saw them. A quick head count confirmed that number. They were wearing various camouflage ensembles, military and hunting.  Most carried assault rifles. I saw one shotgun.  2 of the women had just a pistol.  

“Glad to see you,” Jason whispered, shaking my hand.  “We go in 30.”  I introduced my 3 friends.  He introduced his 7 seven friends. Jessica gave me a warm smile.  “Long time no see,” she said. 

“Too bad for me,” I said.

Jason and Jessica explained that they had done 3 rescues since the last one I had done with them.  No shots fired.  No one hurt.  Word was getting around. Pressure was being applied to cops to stop the rescue-raids, even though they were getting lots of popular support amongst animal and dogs rights and activists groups. But, all on the hush. No one wants word to get out that there are dog-vigilantes on the loose.  

“We got a call about this place about 2 weeks ago,” said Jessica.  “They even sent an e-mail with maps and bios of the owners. Real scumbags. 

“I don’t like it,” I said.

“Why?” said Jason.

“Do you know the source of the information?”

“No.”

“Too easy. Smells bad.”

Then I heard and smelled, at the same time, the new presence.  Everyone else did do. A weapon can make a lot of noise, in the middle of a still night, just being brought up to fire.

“Hold your fire,” said a female voice. It was Diella. I introduced her to Jessica and Jason. She had 2 others with her.  Both were werewolves.  I knew them by their scent.  We briefed Diella and the others on the situation and the plan. They nodded. 

“10 minutes,” Jason and Jessica went around whispering to everyone and holding up all his fingers.  Everyone did their last minute check of weapons and gear.  Everyone had military training. I could tell by their actions and movements. 

Diella leaned into me. “What do you think?” she said.

“I don’t like it,” I said.

She nodded. “Glad you invited us to this little soiree.”

We moved out in 2 files toward the objective. The intervals were a bit close for my liking. But the trees were tight and we were not expected. It was dark. I could barley see the girl ahead of me. But her scent attached me to her like a noise ring. The darkness was also welcome.  All 7 of us weredogs and werewolves began the changing, enough to be ready, and still keep our place in our files. 

All 7 seven of us weredogs and werewolves smelled it at the same time. We all froze at nearly the same instant. There was no time to snarl.  There was only time for Jason to hiss, “What it is?” before the night exploded.

First there was weapons fire.  We all went down, some hit, some not.  The firing lasted only a fast, furious forever. Then it stopped, replaced by a pounding silence that was heavy with expectation.  Before I could yell a warning they were in amongst us.

I was far enough into the changing that the instant burst of adrenaline shot me the rest of the way. Just in time. A form came at me.  Its intent was clear. I met it with an upper-claw that went deep into its body.  Dead. I tossed it aside.  

The fight was fierce and fast. Then, as dogs and wolves began to raise our voices in snarl and howl, they, whoever they were, whatever they were, were gone.  I told 1 of the wolves and Holly to post as perimeter security. The rest of us canvassed the situation.  

All the humans were unconscious or dead. 2 of their bodies were gone. Jason and 2 others were alive. Jessica was not one of those. 

We found one of the attackers.  Dead.  “What the hell is it?” said Diella.

“I’d say that’s one of your Neo’s,” I said. “Get a good look, and sniff.”  It was like nothing I had ever seen, or smelled. It was nearly hairless, and had a scent that was neither dog nor man. And it was in some kind of wereform. "Bring it," I said. 

We collected the dead and wounded and returned to the vehicles. I kept telling the security to stay alert. Diella rode with me on the drive back.  We talked about what to do.  

“They set us up,” she said.

“Correction,” I said. “They set Jason and Jessica up. They weren’t expecting us.”

“But, why?”

I didn’t know. 

We dropped the wounded off at a KC area hospital, said they had been attacked by a pack of wild pit bulls. It was the best I could come up with. I still feel bad. I have some good friends who are pit bulls.