Dog Leg

         I saw a dog in the courtyard from my chair on the balcony today. Normally that wouldn't have bothered me, even though I live in a "no pets" complex. Wild dogs are a bit rampant around here, at least they have been for the last couple months. This one was different though.  It wasn't the slightly darker shade of the fur on it's back, or the red tinge around it's mouth.  No, now that I think of it, the most haunting thing about the canine was it's stare. It's been about two hours since it passed my apartment and it still feels as though it's eyes had pierced into my soul.  They were solid black, like two smooth pieces of onyx, and held within a calm, emotionless visage. God that was strange.
         The eyes were not the first feature I noticed though. I knew this dog was different way before I noticed it's eyes. The thing was... well, it only had three working legs.  Where one of the back legs should have been there was only a fraction, hanging limp and bleeding. The wound must have been recent because the poor mutt left a line of red polka dots behind it on the sidewalk, but I don't remember hearing the normal yipe or howling you'd expect from a dog getting mauled in such a fashion. From my second floor balcony I saw the upper bone of the partially severed leg, it looked like ivory behind a shredded mass of flesh. I wanted to move, to go down and help the dog, but something kept me still. I now know that the eyes were what held me to my chair.
         In my then paralyzed state I simply watched, and listened as one is forced to do when in proximity.  The three-legged stray walked towards my apartment building. While it walked, it's nose was kept close to the ground, like it was following a scent. Faint whimpers floated up to my ears as it limped closer. The stuttered gate caused by the mangled leg forced it's head to constantly move, back and forth, in sharp jolts. Somehow, the animal was able to keep it's gaze glued to mine, and in doing so, my mind glued to it.
         After what seemed like an hour, but had only been less than two minutes or so, I'm sure, the dogs eyes lit up. Oh, they remained black, that you can be sure of. What I mean to say is that they bulged a bit out of socket as the eyelids raised quickly in surprise. No longer was the dog looking at me, and for that I was eternally grateful, although now I can say grateful is a relative term.  No, it was instead staring directly underneath my balcony. Something the thing saw must have disturbed it enough to come to a dead stop.
         It didn't take long for me to figure out what that 'something' was.
         From my safe perch on the second floor I heard the sliding door of the apartment below mine being pushed open, an image of what was going to happen flashed in my head at that moment.  My neighbors would come out, the little girl, Isabelle, would rush to the dog's help.  Her father, Issac, would follow her and help carry the dog, or maybe just lead it to their porch.  He would call a vet or something, and they would be off to maybe save their future pet's life.
         For some reason I was left with a deep sense of dread for the future after imagining that possible outcome. Something about the air made my hair quiver just a bit and I could not move. My throat was suddenly stricken with a drought, making it impossible for me to utter any warning other than a dry click sound.  I wish I knew why I wasn't able to move and help them.  Was it fear?  Was it some sort of trance, brought on maybe by the swinging of the dog's snout, remaining inches from the ground at all times.  I remember my eyes following the dogs.  Left, right, left, right, over and over again.  Was I hypnotized? 
         I heard my neighbors daughter speaking to her dad.

         "Daddy, there's a dog out here!"
         "It looks hurt."
         "Leave it alone Isbel." her father replied. "I'll call animal control."
         He had told me a story once about his little brother trying to help a wounded cat. The damn thing damn near bit his ass off, his words, not mine.  It also left him with a case of rabies that according to Randall was barely caught in time, and only due to Issac driving almost a hundred down the freeway in Detroit toward the hospital with a dead cat in the trunk and a bleeding-from-the-ass brother.

         "But it looks sad!" the little girl said as she ran out into the yard after her own wounded creature.
         "Isabelle..." I tried to spit out as I tensed my body in an attempt to stand up.  I managed nothing more than holding the armrests on the beach chair I was sitting in with a death grip.  If I look outside I would probably find a piece of it broken off and laying on the floor of my balcony, maybe in the drink I left on the floor out there.
         Anyway, that's when the shit got crazy. The dog had gotten to within fifteen yards of our building as I watched it. That distance was covered as Isabelle looked up at me. I blinked and the next thing I knew the inquisitive child no longer wondered why her dad had said leave it alone. I heard a little whimper and a slight thud as her head hit the sidewalk.  The dog had leaped up to her chest and tried to bite her jaw off, it instead got her ear due to her turned head.  I could see pain and fear deeper than I have ever felt in that child's eyes the split second before her fall knocked her out.
         "Isabelle, where are you?" I heard my neighbor ask. Now footsteps, growing louder and quicker.
         "ISABELLE!"
         The dog then released his gnawing grip on Issac's daughter, backed up a couple feet and stopped. There was now a six foot tall, 250 pound black man in front of it. Isabelle fell into a seizure on the ground in front of the canine, covered in a mixture of her own blood and that of the dogs bloody stump. I heard growling then, but not from the dog, no, the growling was from Isaac, my neighbor, and I don't think that dog could have matched the ferocity. In one swift and vengeful motion, Isaac leapt foward and kicked the mutt directly in the ribcage, sending it into the air with a loud yelp. I swear I heard a few bones break as well, like  thick twigs in autumn.
         That done, Isaac turned to his daughter. She was still barely alive as shown by the seizures, so I'm sure he thought there was still a chance to help her. I could hear him crying under his breath while telling her everything was going to be alright. Isabelle did nothing but stare blankly into her father's eyes. Just then motion drew my attention outward again. It seemed the dog wasn't done yet, slowly it crept toward the big man with a big foot.
         Unaware of his persistent adversary, Isaac tried to stand up with his daughter who had gone limp in his arms. I think she may have passed out. Isaac was now crying as loud as I've ever heard a man cry, wailing unintelligibly.  Maybe she was dead, I don't know. It was certainly possible with that injury. As he cradled her head against his shoulder, something happened that made me question her death, though. Within seconds, Issac's cries turned into screams as his daughter bit as deep and as hard as she could into his neck causing him to fall back to his knees. That finally broke my trance. I stood up and grabbed my cellphone out of my pocket. I really wish I had been able to do that earlier, really I do. That's over now though, and I didn't. I have to accept that, and move on.  Something happened, something is happening, and I don't think anything I would have done could have changed much of the outcome.  Hell, I all but created that scenario by distracting Isbel, that's what she liked being called, it was a nickname her mom had given her before her death.  She was only 11, damn.  I should have spoken earlier.
         As I dialed 911, I continued to watch as Isaac fell to the ground, trying to roll away from his daughter while she began to chew on the open wound she had created. My stomach churned. That's when the dog lunged again, at Isaac this time, seemingly unaware of his daughter now, focused instead on the one that was still screaming. I finally gave in and went inside.
         "911, what's your emergency?" chirped the operator.  Almost simultaneously Issac fell quiet. 
         I told her what had happened. The whole thing. I started with where I lived, right off the highway next to the lake, and proceeded to tell her how a stray dog with rabies had just attacked my neighbors, turning at least one into a cannibal or something.  By the end of my explanation I heard her chuckle a little.  I could just barely make out voices in the background getting louder.
         "You expect me to believe you just watched a dog turn your neighbors into zombies and failed to do anything to help the whole time?  You shoulda cut the damn thing's head off." she said with a tone of condescension and sarcasm.  "Now, you're gonna have to..."  someone cut her off.  I could quite hear anything though, she must have cupped her phone against her hand, it was still muffled.  They spoke quickly and she was back on the phone.
         "STAY HOME!" she practically yelled into my ear before disconnecting the call. 
         "NO SHIT!" I yelled back at the phone before hanging it up in frustration.

         That was almost five hours ago.  I'm pretty sure she didn't send anyone.  I did hear sirens however, and have for the last hour and a half.  It sounded chaotic at first, police, ambulances, a fire truck or two.  Now it was simply a low throbbing of sirens, barely noticeable, must be closer to downtown, on the other side of the lake.  I couldn't see anything out my window if I cared to look at all.  My view is simply across a courtyard into another apartment.  I don't care to look though.  Last time I did I watched my neighbors walk away from the apartment, side by side, towards the lake where the dog had come from.  The dog was with them still, only now it was being dragged behind by Isbel, like a new toy.  Her hand gripping the ivory white bone of it's mangled back leg.