She had to kick out the back window to escape. It took her longer than she preferred, but still, she'd have 8 hours before the scent trail turned cold. That was far less than she'd need to find and disembowel the kidnappers.Nobody messes with Moxie's human puppies. Nobody. Those bastards were going to taste doggie justice, and they weren't going to like the flavor.
Moxie saw her two human puppies get pulled off the sidewalk and shoved into a car as she watched at the window for them walking home from school. She had done this every day for the past three years, when her family had brought her home from the shelter. Little did they know she had been a CIA-trained assassin dog, before she was found wandering and disoriented in the southern Illinois forest preserve. The blast from the bomb she had had safely disposed of in the remote woods had affected her more than she had planned.
Nevertheless, it had worked out. She loved her new family with a ferocity and intensity these pieces of human slime were about to feel as she rended their flesh from their bones. She hadn't realized how much she missed the delicious snap of sinew and tendon.
She went swiftly to work, sniffing the ground. She found Meghan's dropped mitten and growled. The Mother said mittens must be worn in the cold snowy times! They will pay dearly for letting the little one's hand grow cold! The scent of her beloveds ended and the smell of car tire and exhaust picked up. It was distinct enough to follow. And follow, she did.
She found the car parked outside a neglected, ill-kept human dwelling. She heard voices coming from the lower level of the home. She peered in the window and saw two evil-smelling adult human males setting up a video camera. However, she had no sight of her own cherished human girls. She ran around the back of the house to see them bound and gagged in a cold, gray room with a cement floor. Moxie could smell their fear and see their tears. Rage caused her lips to curl up over her fangs. She was going to enjoy this. She ran back around to the front of the house. She readied herself, her muscles recalling their training as she burst threw her second window of the day.
The adult males were frozen in terror and confusion, but even if they had been prepared for her attack, she would've made short work of them. Amateurs. She butchered them quickly and effectively. She rubbed her muzzle against their shabby couch to get their blood and bits of connective tissue off her before rescuing her girls.
She broke down the door to the utility room, then bit through the ropes that held her precious puppies. They ripped off their gags and borrowed their faces in her warm, golden fur. A door led to the back yard from this room; it was good they didn't have to see the carnage in the next room. It was time to take her puppies home.
She led them through the neighborhood, stopping only to pick up the mitten and their backpacks, which had fallen to the ground when they were snatched. As they rounded the corner to their home, Moxie ran ahead, jumped the fence and re-entered her home through the downstairs window she had busted for her earlier escape.
The hastily climbed the stairs to their home, where the anxious Mother stood at the door.
"Where have you been?" she exclaimed, taking their jackets and backpacks. "You're more than 15 minutes late!" Moxie crept up from behind Mother and sat on her haunches. As the girls spilled their tale of near disaster while enjoying a cup of hot chocolate and cookies, Mother smiled and shook her head. "Where do you girls get your imagination?" she asked.
Later that night, when the girls were in bed reading, Mother went downstairs to get a nearly-forgotten bundle of laundry out of the dryer for folding. She should've seen broken glass and a busted-out window, but she didn't.
King Muffin the cat had taken care of it. His paws were small and agile enough to dial the phone, and he had connections.
