Three years ago. That was when Ranger’s owner – a friendly, feeble man of 82 – passed away of old age. He was a kind, gentle person, whom, as cliché as it may sound, the entire town loved and revered. His death was a solemn time for the whole community. Not only did we lose the man who greeted us every morning, the man who sat on his front steps every night smoking his pipe, the man who gave out the best Halloween treats – we also lost a friend.
Ranger, his trusty sidekick of a German Shepherd, was taken away. The old man’s son adopted him. My sister and I had grown attached to him over the past few years and the thought of never seeing him again…In all honesty, it broke our hearts. Ranger was the dog we always wanted, but never had.
One night, as I was tucked in bed, I heard a loud noise – a bark. I didn’t think anything of it. There were plenty of dogs in my neighborhood. Nothing to worry about. But as time passed, the barking continued. It grew louder and louder. It was at the point where it would be best identified as a howl. My dad flickered on the lights and went to look out the window. There, right across the street from us, was Ranger sitting on the old man’s front steps. Ranger was home.
The son never came looking for him. Ranger became the town dog. We all fed him, patted him on the head when we saw him, and stopped our cars when he wanted to cross the street. A few of us tried to take him in, but Ranger was never quite content until he was nestled in front of the old man’s house.
Then one day, no one saw him. He wasn’t heard or spotted. He didn’t drop by anyone’s house for a meal. It was weird. No one knew what to do.
And then we turned on the news. The headline read “Local dog found shot and left for dead in Forest Park, Queens.” Ranger had been murdered.
Who would murder a dog? A beloved creature? A town favorite?
To say we were appalled would be the least. But what happened next was even more horrific. A day later, three dogs, were shot and left in front of Martha’s Country Bakery in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. The day after that, someone entered a Manhattan pet store on Columbus Avenue, and shot all the dogs inside. In Staten Island, someone broke into an animal shelter, killed all the dogs, and piled them up by the front door.
Someone was going around murdering innocent animals. What kind of monster would do that?
After three months, we found our answer. After three months of tirelessly chasing suspect after suspect, we caught the culprit. After three months of dogs being massacred every single day, we found the killer.
Who he was, well that’s something I can’t share with you. Not right now anyway.
I have to save something for the sequel.
