Deadly Acts of Love
A True Story
Author's Note- This is a story most of us pet lovers are guilty of, and by doing it we are unintentionally putting others or ourselves in danger. This story is based on real events, which I will explain at the end.
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"Hey Chris, you gonna meet us for basketball?" Joey asked. They were finally leaving the rehearsals that they had been at for most of the day. The sun was beginning set, turning the sky a brilliant golden color. The warm summer air added to the perfect summer night and it made the guys itch for a rough and tumble game of friendly basketball.
Chris pulled out his keys, jingling them in his hand. "I can't. I gotta pick up Busta from the groomers," he said, sighing. "I'll meet you guys later."
"Okay," Joey said. "I still don't understand why you take that dog to the groomers. He doesn't have anything to groom."
"Pugs need lots of attention," Chris replied, smiling. They walked out of the recording studio, taking a deep breath of the clean summer night air.
"Free at last," Justin smiled, stretching.
"Put your arms down," Lance teased, playfully hitting Justin.
"Oh, you wanna go?" Justin replied, motioning to his chest. "Bring it on, Poofoo."
"Fine, Juju," Lance mocked.
"Hey you two, save it for the court," J.C. said, going to his car.
"They better not," Joey said. "That's my court. My parents will have to look at it everyday."
"Okay, me and Busta will meet you guys at Joey's in a bit," Chris said as he opened the door to his car.
"Hurry up," Joey said. "You know how much mom loves that mutt."
Chris shot Joey an evil look before he got in the car and started it. The others watched him drive off, then Lance got into Justin's car, and Joey and J.C. rode together in the other car. They could hardly wait to play, goof off, and just be guys for once.
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"Your bill comes to twenty five dollars," the cashier smiled at Chris. Busta stood on the counter, radiating a sweet wildflower smell from his shampoo. His coat glistened in the light, and he seemed to smile as he panted happily.
Chris looped the leash on his wrist and handed a fifty to the cashier. It was on older woman, and Chris was thankful for he never would have gotten out of the pet store if a young girl kept pestering him for a picture or autograph. He, along with the others, was dying to get moving and relax with a nice game of basketball. As the cashier counted out his change, he glanced outside. It was now in the middle of rush hour, and the highway was alive with cars.
Busta could sense Chris's pent-up energy too, and the small dog became excited too. He yipped in anticipation as the Chris put the money back in his leather wallet. Then Chris plucked the dog from the counter and headed outside, not replying to the cashier's goodbye.
"I bet you had as much fun as I did," Chris told Busta as he walked to the car.
The dog barked and squirmed in Chris's arms, so Chris let the dog run along on the blacktop. Busta would run ahead, then stop to smell some invisible stain on the parking lot. When he felt the tug on the leash, he would run along side Chris again, keeping his pushed in nose to the ground.
Chris opened the car door and got in, not looking forward to having to take his extended drive home to Joey's house. He sighed, watching the traffic slowing right before his eyes. Then he patted his leg for Busta, but the dog didn't jump in his lap. Confused, Chris looked down to see Busta relieving himself on the back tire.
"Busta!" Chris yelled. "You're suppose to do that to other people's cars, not mine!"
The Pug looked to its owner with a carefree gaze. Putting his leg down, the dog sighed contentedly then leapt on Chris's lap. "That's better," Chris smiled, petting the dog's soft head. Eager to get this trip over with, Chris started the car and pulled out onto the highway.
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Justin grunted as Joey plowed into him, knocking the wind out of the teen. He stumbled back, feeling the ball being torn out of his grasp.
"That's illegal," Justin yelled, watching Joey make a basket.
"Why?" Joey asked, catching the orange ball as it fell through the net.
"You can't just run into people and call it legally stealing the ball," Justin replied, rubbing his stomach.
"It's my court," Joey teased, tossing the ball to Justin.
"Now Joey," Phyllis said, coming out the back door, "Because it's your court, you have to play fair."
"Mom, you take all the fun out winning," Joey whined, blushing slightly.
"Thanks Mrs. Fatone," Justin said politely. He glared at Joey as he dribbled by, and Lance and J.C. got ready to play.
"When you boys get thirsty, I'm making lemonade," Mrs. Fatone said, folding her arms and watching the young men play.
"Thanks," J.C. replied, blocking Lance from getting to Justin.
"You don't know when Chris and Busta will get here, do you?" she asked.
"No, but he probably hit rush hour," Joey said, started to take the ball from Justin but stopping when he saw his mother's stern look.
"Well, when you see them, send them in," Phyllis said, going back in the house.
The four sweating guys continued their game, releasing all their energy and having a good time doing it.
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Chris turned the radio on low and patted Busta's head. The dog licked Chris's hand as Chris said, "Well, this traffic isn't so bad."
They were moving at an average of fifty miles an hour, but it could have been worse. Busta crawled on his daddy's lap and looked out the window, panting happily. Chris pushed Busta's head, making the dog duck down. "Busta, move," Chris said. "I can't see."
Busta sat on Chris's lap and licked Chris on the chin. Chris smiled and ran his hand down Busta's back, making the dog stand up again. "Busta," Chris started, pushing the dog into a sitting position. He looked up again and slammed on the brakes when he saw the stopped car in front of them. The tires squealed, trying to grip the road but failing.
The car skidded into the green car in front of them, pushing the car forward as Chris slammed into it's bumper. Busta fell to the floor, then quickly jumped back on Chris's lap. Steam floated up from under the hood. Chris sighed and rested his head on the steering wheel, trying to calm his breathing as the black man from the car in front of him got out of the car.
Chris rolled down the window to apologize to the man for hitting him. As the window went down, he got a face of smoke that was hissing from his hood. Busta licked his cheek as Chris started, "I am so sorry, I wasn't watching-"
"That's because of that damn dog," the young man yelled. "That car was for my girlfriend! I just bought it!"
Chris swallowed. "Look, I'll repay you-"
"Her birthday is today! You and this dog ruined her birthday asshole," the man yelled, his jacket blowing as cars rolled by. He reached in and grabbed Busta by the scruff of the neck. Busta yelped as he was torn from Chris's loving grip.
"Hey, what the hell are you doing?" Chris asked, opening the door and getting out on the side of the road.
"Just a little eye for an eye law," the young man grinned, then to Chris's horror, he heartlessly threw Busta into the oncoming traffic.
Chris stopped breathing as he watched Busta yelp shrilly before a car hit him, then slammed on the brakes. The car rolled over Busta's broken body and stopped a few feet away. Chris watched through tear filled eyes as the world dropped away, shinning a spotlight on the still dog and the puddle of blood that was swelling around him.
"Busta!" Chris yelled with all his heart, running out onto the highway with out thought for more oncoming cars. The young woman that accidentally hit the Pug got out of her car, visibly shaken.
"Oh my God, what happened?" she asked.
Chris ran to where Busta lay, letting his tears fall freely. He held the dying dog to his heaving chest, crying while he stroked the Pug's head. With great effort, Busta licked Chris's chin then sighed, releasing his soul.
The woman stood next to where Chris kneeled on the road, crying softly. "I'm so sorry," she said, placing a hand on Chris's shoulder. "He just flew out in front of me."
Chris remained silent, rocking the lifeless dog with agony. More cars had stopped and Chris felt uncomfortable. Without a word, Chris got up and carried Busta to his still-running car. The black man was gone, and once all the cars began moving again, all that remained was a puddle of blood on the steaming road.
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"He's still not picking up his cell phone," Justin yelled.
"Oh well," Joey shrugged. "Let's eat!"
"Joseph," Mrs. Fatone scolded. "He's your friend! What if something happened?"
"Yeah, like maybe he met a girl," Lance mumbled.
They sat around the Fatone's large dinning room table, waiting for Chris to arrive so they could eat. They had been staring at his empty seat for fifteen minutes and they were just getting hungrier.
"We'll give him ten more minutes," Mrs. Fatone said, getting up to turn the oven back on.
There was a weak knock on the front door, and the guys sighed. "See? There he is," Phyllis smiled, going to the door.
But when she opened it, the sight that greeted her burned into her memory as the new definition for heartbreak.
Chris stood on the doorstep, his white Nsync shirt covered in blood. His hands and arms were also bloodstained, and his eyes were red, puffy, and wet with tears of agony. The flame that had burned so greatly with in him was gone, replaced with black sadness.
"Chris, what happened?" Phyllis asked with shock. She pulled him inside and towards the bathroom. The others got up, equally surprised at their friend's state.
Chris remained silent as Mrs. Fatone took his bloody shirt off and began searching his red tinted chest for a wound. He sat on the closed toilet, not saying anything and looking at some invisible, distant place.
"Are you hurt?" she asked, searching his body.
Chris didn't know how to react to the question. He wasn't physically hurt, but he felt like part of himself had been thrown in front of the car with Busta, and now it was gone forever. He had a hole in him, and it hurt beyond words. The sickening scene kept replaying in his mind no matter how much he tried to stop it. He felt Busta's fur sliding out from under his fingers, heard the shrill cry as the dog flew through the air then was cut off and replaced by the gut-wrenching sound of tires squealing and bones crunching.
"Joe, call 911," Mrs. Fatone ordered, worried by Chris's silence.
"No," Chris said finally, stopping Joey. "It's not me."
"What happened sweetie?" Mrs. Fatone asked, feeling like she did years ago, when Chris was practically part of the family.
"It's Busta," Chris said, his voice cracking. The others listened as Chris told his heartbreaking story, enraged at what the other man had done. By the time Chris was done explaining, they all were in tears.
"I can't believe someone could do something so horrible," Mrs. Fatone said, wiping her eyes.
"It's my fault," Chris whispered, sniffing. "I should have put him in the back."
"No, it's not your fault," Lance said. "I mean, it's not your fault he was…the other guy had no right to do that."
"Did you get the license number?" Justin asked.
Chris looked at the floor and shook his head. "He took off. I went back to the car and he was gone," he said, watching a tear fall to the floor. His bare chest heaved as his breath caught, and memories flooded back again.
Mrs. Fatone hugged him and said, "Don't worry. We'll put a reward out on the guy. We'll get him."
Finnis!
The Real Story:
This story is based on real events that happened around the first week of March, near Kansas City. A woman was driving home with her Bichon Frise on her lap. The dog supposedly blocked her view, and she rear-ended a stopped car in front of her. The man driver of the car got out, enraged, and grabbed the dog from her lap. He threw the dog into oncoming traffic where it was immediately hit, and later died at the vet's. The man fled, and there is now a reward out for his capture.
Please keep your pet in a crate and never in your lap or in the back of a truck. Even if your dog is well behaved, you can still be in an accident and the animal will be killed.
Crate your pet. It saves lives.
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Email: jaysmyrascal@cs.com