KC Frantzen - May the K9 Spy 01 - May on the Way: How I Become a K9 Spy Read online

  ILLUSTRATED BY TAILLEFER LONG

  RUSHJOY PRESS

  MAY THE K9 SPY: BOOK 1

  Visit May at www.MaytheK9Spy.com

  Copyright © 2011 KC Frantzen. All rights reserved.

  Cover photographs © KC Frantzen. All rights reserved.

  Logos, Layout and Artwork by Taillefer Long

  Cover Design by Kimberly Van Meter

  This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  Written permission must be secured from the publisher to use or reproduce any part of this book, except for brief quotations in critical reviews or articles.

  We will donate a portion of the proceeds to causes we support. For information about special discounts for bulk purchases, FUN-raising opportunities or book clubs, please contact:

  RushJoy Press, PO Box 4031, Crossville, TN 38557

  Email: [email protected]

  Send us an email to ask about author. KC Frantzen: [email protected]

  Manufactured in the United States of America.

  ISBN 978-0-9833563-3-2

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2011902258

  RushJoy Press,

  an imprint of Bottom Line Clarity, LLC

  For Julia:

  You and Princess have much in common. When young, you lived in evil circumstances. Upon adoption, you received a new name and began a new life.

  Like you told me, “God loves us for who we are…it does not matter where we came from.” You both are living proof that through His Grace, the past can be overcome. I love you.

  KC Frantzen

  For my grandmother, Nonna:

  For 101 years you exuded a vibrant energy that most people cannot engender in the prime of their lives. Warming most and burning some, that fire sizzled until the very end. Now that is living.

  I will always find courage and inspiration in having those undying flames near my heart - to light my own torch and find the path out of darkness. Hope this book makes you smile.

  Taillefer Long

  Over 28 dog years, there are many people to thank…My husband, Steve; my parents, Jay & Joyce Collins…the Christian Writers Guild and mentors Sandra Byrd (also the best writing coach ever!) and Dave Fessenden…incomparable illustrator and book designer, Taillefer Long…Lois and the entire Davis family of Joshua’s Pet Treat Bakery; first readers Dottie Mackenzie and Nancy Simpson; the amazing ladies and friends of Seekerville.blogspot.com, especially Mary Connealy, Melanie Dickerson, Debby Giusti, Ruth Logan Herne, Vince Mooney, Tina Radcliffe, Amber Stokes and Cheryl Wyatt…Write Touch Inspirational Writers, particularly Mary Black, Glen Davenport and Bev Schwind…Critique partner Rita Monette…Web designer Perry Hartman; Critter-sitters extraordinaire Frances Burgess & Paul Whittenburg, Andy & Norma Munns; Veterinarians Dr. Lewis, Dr. Ragland and Dr. Thompson; Young readers, writers, friends, and family: Janet Adams, Vicki Allen, Carrie, Mary and Nathanael Ames, Larry Avery, Jim & Peggy Barr, Tracy Basham, Sherry Baum, Jeanne Bevan, Pat Bugg, Megan Catlett, Tracy Clement, Windi Compton, Connie Crotty, Dr. Robbie Dean, Andy & Yvette Dolan, Joan Ellen Duncan, Debbie Emory-Utzig, Norma Evers, Jocelyn Green, Joe and JoHenra Griffin, Debby Hagar, Richard Hays, Walt Hively, Steena Holmes, Gail Hughes, Graeme Hunt, Earl Long, Tara Keeling, Ruth MacAndrew, Christina, Katherine and Michael Mackenzie, Marla Madison, Kay Merket, Jaimie Miller, Tricia Monroe, Sandy Nelson, Rachel and Sue Ohde, Aretie Patterson, John, Kim, Matthew and Paige Peaslee, Diane & Gloria Peter, David Rieniets, Jr., Rosemary Rivard, Megan Sauber, Lynda Schwanekamp, Charlotte Siegmund, Myrl Sims, Mary Snell, JD Smith, Patty Smith, Suz Spikes, Corinne Strickland, Carolyn Sutton, Jim Sykes, Cheryl and Thom Teeters, RB Thieme, Jr., Eben and McCourt Thomas, Jan Unruh, Kristi Valiant, Sharon Varnum, and Bob Williams…and so many others who encouraged me and prayed. I am forever grateful to the United States Military and finally, to Jesus Christ, with Whom all things are possible.

  Wonder where I get my ideas?

  Much of this book is based on May’s life, and mine. The rest developed from current events plus imagination.

  Want to know more?

  Look at the library or on the Internet for: Micro Air Vehicle, Bugbots and Design World, Missile Silo Houses, Starfish Prime, EMP, Military Dogs

  Or, check out our website for links!

  www.MaytheK9Spy.com

  CONTENTS

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  About the Author

  Sometimes I start with a well-thought out plan, and sometimes, me being me, things just happen. In my imagination I’m on my way, heading anywhere. Because anywhere’s better than here.

  Which is why I’m staring at this latch. I’m going to escape today. I’ve been watching closely to see how they work it, though no one’s noticed.

  Humans…So unaware.

  Here goes. I’ll tilt my head…No, better this way. Use my underbite to hold…Put a little paw pressure here and shoulder here…and push uuuup. Quiet, quiet. Umph!

  Righty-o, first try! But, uhh…Didn’t think about what I’d do next.

  Sneak out? Maybe.

  Escape for good? Even better.

  Judging from scent and sound, Woman is making the Monster’s meal. Sniff, sniff. Fish sticks again. I can’t directly see her, but there’s a reflection in the stove door, if I look just so. Figured that trick out myself about a week ago.

  She’s in a foul mood, situation usual when Rabba’s home. Never thought of it before, but…Woman’s caged like me, kind of.

  I wish they would understand. I don’t want to cause trouble. If I can’t have a good home here, I just want my freedom.

  Alright, time for action. I’ll nose open this cell door…and I’m out! (And no one knows!)

  Through the kitchen I go, quietly.

  Piffle. Swinging door’s closed. I’ll just give it a nudge.

  Nope, thought so. Much too heavy. Have to wait for a human. Better find another way out before she sees me.

  “How did you get out!”

  Better make a dash for it. Yikes, lost traction, skidding…I knock over the trash. Gulp.

  “You ungrateful, sorry excuse for a Schnauzer. LOOK what you’ve done!”

  Can hardly think with her shouting. Oh no, he’s coming.

  The door swings wildly and Rabba blasts in. The raw burn from his glare. And his scent – brutal, cold, fierce. I’ll never forget him if I live forever.

  I glance at them through my eyebrows. No one moves.

  Must find a way to escape this chaos, this abuse. I make a quick decision and lunge for the door. And he lunges at me…

  When I come to, I’m sprawled on the floor of the filth
y crate. I manage to regain my breath and footing. I try to shake it off but my side is sore, so I stop. I step to the fouled corner, the only place they’ve left me for a toilet.

  I miss the grass. This is embarrassing and it reeks, but where else can I go?

  What’s that? I stop to listen. It’s Rabba, back with tools…and gulp wire? I stagger to the grimy water dish and swallow a few sips to get the blood-taste out. I face the cold bars of my cage, away from him. Can’t watch.

  I hear him working, then it’s deathly quiet. My skin crawls and I feel his eyes. I turn and we stare at each other for a long moment. I’m so frightened I can hardly think.

  In spite of a promise to myself, a tear makes its getaway, splattering onto the fur on my leg. He seems satisfied and leaves.

  Wwhhooo. I try to be calm. Must regain control.

  Oh no, now he’s menacing her about the mess I made. He snarls and calls her a deviant. Her scent turns to fear.

  It’s okay, Woman. He scares me too. Remember the last time Monster grabbed my whiskers? I looked to you for help, and thought you might, but you looked away. Then Rabba laughed, you know that scary snorty one. Monster pulled harder and harder, until I yelped. Rabba snorted even louder.

  You got away to the other room, and left me. I don’t blame you, not really.

  I observe his face. How would he feel if I latched on to his whiskers? But Mother told us never to bite our humans, so I only growl. Soon I don’t think that will be enough, and I will defend myself.

  Or escape.

  “A prepared puppy is ready when opportunity is provided.” That’s the last thing Mother told me, the day Woman took me from home. I could sure use an opportunity about now.

  My mind drifts back to Mother’s scent. Such a comfort. She cared for us well, prepared us to be hopeful. But that one day, she looked so sad. She assured us she loved us but that we’d be leaving soon…all to different homes, homes where she trusted we would be loved.

  Maybe it’s been okay for my brothers. But not for me. At least I had more time with her, since no one who came wanted me.

  I can’t help it if I’m littler than all the others. I’m a girl! Maybe my teeth aren’t perfect. One family even said I walk funny. That hurt. Mother kissed me and told me I’m smart. I’m going to prove her right, one day.

  Then Woman came, said she’d make a show dog out of me. She took me away, said I was her “ticket to spending money,” whatever that is. I was excited to be chosen and tried my best to please her. But I never won anything.

  These days we don’t go anywhere. Woman tells me I’m “a burden,” all I’ve been is “a disappointment.” It’s bad enough here with Monster. But anytime Rabba is home, I live in terror. Always. And here he comes!

  He speaks low. “Today, Woman. Or I take care of it myself.”

  I shudder. What does that mean? I hear his footsteps and the swinging door whoosh, whoosh-whoosh-whoosh. Woman’s voice shakes as she hollers for Monster. “Get in here NOW, and eat your fish sticks!”

  He straight-arms through the door, bashing it into the wall. I watch him climb into his chair, then glower at me. But I don’t hold his stare. Instead, I start ripping out the tear-stained fur on my leg.

  What did Rabba mean, “Or I take care of it myself”? I stop, panicked.

  Must escape, before he…he does…I don’t know what.

  I start on my leg again as my mind whirls. But I must be prepared, like Mother said. The next time I do get out, I don’t care what. I’m escaping. For good.

  I look deep into the anywhere of my mind. But how will I do it? What will happen if…I mean…When I do? And what will they say about it?

  My thoughts are interrupted by ringing. Woman mumbles, “M-m-maybe this is the call.” I hear her run, then see her pick up part of the machine and speak to it.

  She stopped it after only one sound today. I don’t know why she speaks to it. There’s no other human that I see. And she isn’t talking to me, like she does sometimes.

  But something’s different. I try to focus.

  “Yeah. It must be today. Tell them one o’clock. Yeah. She’s a show dog. I have papers.” She listens, then her shoulders slump. “Yeah. She’ll be ready. G’bye.”

  She’s talking about me?

  Now it’s quiet, except for Monster’s smacking. What did she mean, ready? I’m always ready.

  Hope flickers, for an instant.

  Uh oh. Monster’s climbing down from his chair. Sniffle. Smells like he’s up to something.

  He’d best leave me alone. If he doesn’t, I’ll help him remember.

  I crouch in the semi-dark, and pull my lips back. Here he comes. This time I won’t look away.

  Through the bars he whispers, “Don’t bare your big white teeth at me!”

  You sound like your father. Same tone, same words.

  He glances towards the kitchen, then pulls a wooden block from his shorts pocket and rattles it along the bars of my prison. “And stop growlin’, Wolfee. I’m only playin’. ”

  Go away! You know this hurts my ears. And I hate that awful name.

  Since his mother isn’t paying attention (I don’t think it was my growling), he stomps out and trudges down the hall.

  Quick! I hide my ears under my paws.

  WHAM!

  When she hears the door slam, she shrieks, “I’ve told you a thousand and one times, stay away from her! Go watch TV!”

  Good. Maybe he’ll watch the box with the high-pitched hum. What will he choose?

  Cartoons. Excellent. I’ll have a little peace. But the walls won’t. I hear the blocks whacking against them as Monster bawls.

  I call up my courage and inspect the new latch. It’s reworked…and the door is wired to the bars?

  What am I going to do?

  Fear nips, but I refuse to let it win. I take a deep breath, then let it out the sides, ruffling my whiskers. It tickles, which brings me a little comfort.

  I know! I’ll imagine being outside. I concentrate to ignore the blaring TV, the crashing blocks, the soft sobbing of Woman…

  Ahhh sunshine, a soft breeze, lying on my back in the grass. I hear birds and close my eyes. They are so free. What are they saying? Some are new in the neighborhood. They sound grateful for a good home, like they’re singing to encourage me.

  Now I’m somewhat cheered. I walk in a tiny circle and start thinking about Monster’s mother, and my own…That’s right! “A prepared puppy is ready when opportunity is provided.” Sure. There are many skills I’ve not yet mastered, like…dodging feet for one thing, and like…like…

  Escaping!

  Woman has another stinky stick in her mouth. I try not to breathe as it jerks up and down. I’ve seen her upset, but never like this.

  “I don’t know what to do with you and this kid. With his father always gone, I can’t handle you both and have any time left for me so one burden has to go and obviously not my very own five year old.” Woman blows out the smoke. “But it’s tempting.”

  Ashes drift past while she yaps on. “Ya ‘member Nancy?”

  You don’t ever expect an answer, but yes. She comes in and talks to me.

  “She knows some people who are moving. Said they’re friendly enough, plus they have a Schnauzer. Male I think. They might take you off my hands.” She glares towards my cage. “So you show me some decent behavior.”

  I will do my best. But truthfully Woman, you don’t enforce rules, even for yourself.

  “I had such high hopes for you to make me some bucks…as a show dog but…You aren’t the quality…I was looking for…after all.” She sniffles, then sets down the smoky stick and blows her nose on a big red and white piece of patterned cloth.

  Oh no, that’s Rabba’s! If he saw her doing that, he’d cuff her. He must have left, or she’d never chance it.

  Woman blows again, then daubs her eyes. She flings the soiled cloth and it flies past me, hitting the floor alongside a fluff of lint from the noisy machine that gets hot a
fter she puts the clothes they wear inside. She blathers on, puffing and glancing from the mound of clean underwear to my cage.

  “Your ears are poorly cropped, you walk crooked, you’re too small…And that underbite. What was I thinking?” She takes a long drag and exhales a plume.

  I place my ears (poorly cropped) way back and hope I’m not walking too crookedly. I drift to the far corner of the cold metal cage, ashamed, and work on my leg again.

  Footsteps. I lift my head to watch Monster pad in, still at it. He tumps his sippy cup, after loosening the lid, of course. It makes a huge grape mess. Thinks he’ll have her attention again. He’s right.

  Woman grabs some clean clothes and storms into the kitchen. Glancing back at me, she quickly adds, “So I better recoup what you’ve cost me!”

  I’d do it to please you, if I knew what you meant.

  She puts part of the pile on the kitchen table and reviews his expression – and the sticky mess. “IDIOT! TROUBLEMAKER!”

  Monster shoves a fish stick into his greasy mouth, and sticks out his tongue. Woman backs away and rolls her eyes. He wins, again. She doesn’t know what to do, so she’ll do nothing.

  “And then I’ll try one of those infomercial businesses. I’ll make some extra cash for a mani/pedi and a 65” plasma TV…He’ll like that, whenever he comes home.” She looks out the window. “I always wonder what he’s up to when he’s gone…” Her lip trembles for an instant. “He said not to ask again.”

  Woman collects the bundle of socks and underwear and mutters all the way down the hall about “cleaning up for the suckers.”

  Like mother, like son – attention span of a gnat.

  I’m exhausted and fall asleep. My dreams are all jumbled. Closing doors, a dark bearded face enveloped by red and white, wicked green eyes. Sticky purple paws. Wire grabbing me. I flounder in the trash. I’m running, running…but can’t get anywhere.

  Yawn. What woke me up? Footsteps. From the TV or…Wait. On the porch. And voices!