At last, Frank managed to get free of Daisy as his knot deflated, but he remained secured by the leash attached to his collar. Daisy's angry owner looped the leash around a post.
"Lousy mutt," the man muttered in an angry tone.
When the city's animal control truck and two control officers pulled into the driveway, the impatient man greeted them with complaints for not getting there sooner and a demand that they take the Rottweiler out of his yard.
Frank listened to the back and forth. He needed to show some backbone like the confident, bordering on arrogant, dominant male he had always been for his entire adult life.
His show of teeth and an angry growl brought a weary sigh from one of the uniformed officers. "Better get the gun, Trent."
Gun? Did they mean to shoot him? Frank was still reconsidering his options when Trent returned and with no fanfare whatsoever, raised the gun, aimed, and fired a tranquilizer dart into Frank's rump.
With a surprised yelp, he surged forward only for the leash and borrowed collar to restrain him. His legs buckled and he fell onto his side. The men waited until the sedative had fully taken effect.
"That's my dog's collar," the angry man stepped forward and reclaimed it.
"He didn't have any other identification on him?" Trent asked the man as his partner pushed Frank into a waiting transport cage.
"No," the angry man said. "Probably another damn stray. Neighborhood is full of them."
Both men loaded the sleeping animal into the back of the their truck.
Frank wasn't completely asleep; he just felt far too tired to open his eyes. He thought of Rex, back at the duplex, with Xander. He thought of a message for them, but then he really did fall asleep as the truck's passage on the highway created a droning engine noise that meant lights out for the very spent dog.