Chapter Six: I Assure You I Will Bite Your Parts

What does Gravity Dog like to sink his choppers into almost as much as he enjoys prime rib? Your ass. This week's freshly carved segment is also available with freshly grated horseradish.

Was I in the dog house, or what? No, I wasn’t home—we were back in the jetchopper, whooshing back to our base. For the first time, Jonny Cosmic was looking at me right in the eyes. He dangled in his webbing, looking relaxed, staring at me. In my mind, I replayed the mission that had so nearly unraveled. Many previous missions had also teetered on the brink of disaster, but it was always because of human error—it was up to Gravity Dog to be the hero. I had never tasted failure before, and I have to tell you, it tasted worse than worming medicine. With any luck I might still be able to get an assignment as—it almost killed me to think it—a guard dog. As I sank deeper into sullen self-pity, a human voice trampled the jetchopper’s soothing whisper:

“So, was it good for you?” It was Cosmic. I thought for a moment that he was going to attack me: he was baring his fangs, and then I realized he was smiling at me.

“Where I come from,” he continued, “It’s customary to give the lady a radiophone call the next day. Did you get her number?” Finishing with a question, he tilted his head like an inquisitive Border Collie.

He spun gently back and forth in his webbing, grinning like a bastard hyena. I did not have the tiniest idea what he was talking about, and I’m sure my face showed it. Maybe he had gone mad? Several of my other partners had cracked under the stress of combat. This could work for me. If he was thought to be insane, the brass would have to believe whatever version of the story I wished to tell. With my record unspoiled, my career and reputation could continue to grow.

“You screwed the pooch!” Cosmic was laughing now, the son of a bitch. Laughing at me, one of the most decorated veterans in the history of the Enhanced Canine Tactical Assault Initiative. I finally got the joke—I hate it when humans use the description of an act of love to describe an error or mistake. If it wasn’t for my professionalism, the heavy nylon webbing straps, and the fact that he had saved my life ten minutes ago, I would have bitten his ass and tossed him out of the jetchopper.

“Stop!” I barked at him, “Stop! Now! Now!”

Cosmic laughed even harder, loud enough that the JC-125TAC’s co-pilot glanced back at us over his shoulder.

As quickly as my partner’s jeering laughter had begun, it stopped. I gave up my futile attempts at climbing out of my cocoon and hung there, panting with fury. He leaned forward, still not too close, and spoke quietly so that the jetchopper crew couldn’t hear him.

“I’m not laughing at you, Rin Tin Tin, so relax.” His eyes twinkled in a way that made me uncomfortable. I felt my tail try to curl up between my legs protectively.

“I know all about you, hero. You are the center of your own doggie universe. I understand that. I’m not laughing at you,” he repeated, clapping his hands together soundlessly.

“I’m laughing at myself because I don’t know why I saved you. I hate dogs.”