Part 1: https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/12ejk1d/my_dog_is_acting_weird_and_i_dont_know_what_to_do/
I managed to get my call through what seemed to be a flooded line and speak to a woman from the city’s vet hospital. I was driving as fast as I could to get there as soon as possible - and there wasn’t much traffic, luckily - so when she asked right away if the call was about “a dog in a catatonic state and/or fixated with a rock”, I just said yes. She told me they were completely saturated at that moment and that I should try and contact some of the other clinics. I rushed to ask her if I could still get Captain there if the other clinics weren’t answering - which they weren’t - before she hung up on me. “Yes”, then the call ended.
It wasn’t until a couple minutes later that I looked back on the brief conversation and wondered if what was going on with Captain was something really common, or something really contagious. In a way, I was relieved knowing my pup wasn’t the only one with this “condition”, it somehow gave me hope for it being treatable. I mean, if it’s that widespread, or that easy to catch, it should have plenty of treatments… Right?
The city wasn’t much better than the town, and it was REALLY starting to get strange that there were so few people on the streets. I could give it a pass, in the town, at 6:30am, in a skate park, but at 8:30am around the city center? All the better to find a parking spot near the hospital, I thought. Always looking on the bright side, else my whole life and persona would just crumble.
While the trip was relatively uneventful, besides me calling one vet clinic after another like a maniac while driving, the grunting from Captain intensified. It was still the same rhythm, just louder. I began wondering if maybe he was having trouble breathing, but then again I couldn’t really tell what was going on nor help him. I left the car with the emergency lights on right in the middle of the street, in front of the veterinary hospital, alongside a couple other cars that might have been in our very same situation. Now, leash on one hand, stone on the other, and Captain aggressively trying to rip the stone off my hand, we entered the hospital.
My blood froze; as we entered, what might have been at least 30 other dogs turned their heads towards us at the same time. Eyes locked on Captain’s stone, now in my hand. Other, tinier stones rested on the floor beside each dog, all roughly the same size. All I could make in that very same moment was “drop it and run”, yet I didn’t. I stood there, at the entrance, more tense than I’ve been in my entire life. And it wasn’t just me, it was every other owner sitting by their dog. The one and only thing that was keeping anyone in there was the absolute, stupid love we all felt for our small, big, and giant puppies.
“A-At least they’re quiet now” I remember one shaky little guy stuttered from the back row of seats, “… I guess”.
And they were. They were completely still, all eyes locked on what was inside my closed fist. It was a rock all so similar to the others resting all over the place, but ten times bigger. The only explanation I could find to justify that behaviour.
The silence was replaced soon by a gnarling and sounds of something bad happening in the examination room. A woman screaming not to hurt the dog, another woman asking for help to restrain it. Metal, plastic, everything falling to the floor. Barking, more yelling, screaming. Then nothing. I was fully expecting a yelp of some poor dog being put down, but only muffled sobbing through the door. A man in scrubs came out, he was sweating and splatted with blood all over. He looked at us, the scene still frozen in time, and I swear I could tell the frustration of a man who just didn’t know what to do.
” I’m sorry,” he began, “but I can’t help you. I… We’re understaffed today and, honestly, all the dogs I’ve examined are… completely healthy. On a physical level, that is.”
An old lady raised her voice to say something, but I don’t think anyone actually heard whatever the first and only word she uttered was. Captain growled. A single, long growl, deep as I never thought he could reach. It was truly haunting; his eyes now locked on me, not on my hand. I dropped it this time, honestly fearing for my life. It stumbled as it hit the ground, ending up right next to an old golden retriever. I didn’t think my body could take that tension much longer; my muscles were all worn out, all ready to snap any second, yet I could not abandon Captain, not like… I did with Emerett.
Captain walked slowly towards the rock, towards the golden retriever. I started to slowly and all so softly increase the tension on the leash, hoping to get him to stop advancing without having to full on pull on it. I was afraid, and so was the boy holding the golden’s leash from what I could see. I thought it would do the trick up until the point it actually prevented him from taking another step. Captain turned his head and grabbed the leash between his teeth, pulling out of it in a burst of strength completely alien in whatever was that delicate dance he was carrying out. I fell to my knees, letting the leash go, and rush backwards trying to gain distance from the rest of the dogs, but they all were watching my pup.
The vet tried to rush and help me get up, the one and only who even tried to, yet he wasn’t allowed to take a single step, as his leg was met with several dogs showing him their teeth. I was still laying on the floor, half body inside the hospital, half on the street, when it actually happened. Captain got close to the golden, he lowered his head towards his big rock, really carefully as if he was trying not to disturb the other dog, and the golden snapped. It went straight for Captain’s neck, grabbing him. Without even a whimper or sign of pain, Captain bit the golden’s front paw and I swear I could hear the crack. The owner was terrified, a couple drops of blood resting on his face as he was clueless on what to do, probably afraid that one single action may lead to him being torn apart by 30 rabid dogs, and so was I.
I’ll just say that Captain won the fight, but it all was so… I don’t know, I don’t think I can really describe the feeling. 30 dogs and their owners, watching how two dogs fight to the death in perfect silence. Captain had an ugly wound on his neck, and I swear it needed stitches, but the vet refused to help. He just seemed at a loss, frustrated… afraid. It wasn’t any different for the rest of the owners, I bet. I know it was the same for me. I was shaken to my core, exhausted, like I was caught in a nightmare and there was absolutely nothing I could make sense of.
If there’s any silver lining to this is, Captain grabbed the rock, for the very first time, and he just carried with him on his mouth. He then just stood there, as if he was waiting for me to lead him. So I did, grabbed the leash, and got back to the car in a horrible calm. If no vet could help me, I would at least have to stitch Captain’s neck - and disinfect and clean up my bite wound -.
Next stop, the pharmacy, and then… I guess it’s time to start calling other town’s vet clinics. This feels like a really long shot, I’m already exhausted, but I need to do something, I can’t just stand and watch him go through whatever he’s going through until he dies.
Part 3: https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/12jnin8/my_dog_is_acting_weird_and_i_cant_count_on_the/