Free Pets: Bach's Story by Darla Phelps

best way to keep your pet as safe as possible. Pet-nappers as a rule rarely mess with the microchipped ones.”
    Bach had his reservations, especially about the pain part. He’d smacked Pani’s bottom enough times by now to know she certainly did react to pain. But he bowed to the Salesman’s expertise. “All right.”
    “Microchip her?” he asked with a smile.
    “Microchip her.”
    Despite the Salesman’s assurances that she wouldn’t feel much more than a twinge of discomfort, as Bach lay Pani face-down on the table in the tiny back room and held her arms so she couldn’t squirm away from the knife mid-procedure, the instant the man cut the first tiny incision into her back, Pani sucked a startled breath and her whole body went as stiff as a board.
    She screeched when the microchip was inserted into the wound and writhed beneath Bach’s restraining hands the whole time the hole was stitched together again.
    “There,” the man said and wiped away the last trickle of blood from the edges of the wound. “That wasn’t so bad, now was it? She must think herself a little princess. All that fuss over one little cut.”
    Sitting on the edge of the table, Bach glared at him as he pulled the tearful Pani into his lap. Never again would he believe pets incapable of feeling pain.
    “I’m sorry, baby,” he patted her shoulders, rubbed her arms and kissed the tears from her cheeks. “You’re okay now, sweetheart. My pretty little pet. You’re okay now.”
    Already the wound on her back looked angry and red, the edges swelling around the ugly black stitches. He was sorry he’d done it. By the time she stopped crying enough to be gathered up for the trip back to the front of the store, she was hugging his hand and pressing her cheek into it.
    “Good Pani,” she whimpered. “Good Pani.”
    “Let’s go home,” he sighed. “Come on, Pani. No, I’m not going to carry you; you can walk. Come on.”
    He herded her back through the store, leading her by the braid again until they got to the sales counter. Without thinking, as he reached for his wallet, he let go of Pani.
    She actually stayed by his side for several long seconds as he dug for his credit slip. She looked up at him and he down at her as he realized what he’d just done. Then like a flash she was gone, dashing past the shop aisles and nearly crashing into the automatic door which almost didn’t register her approach.
    “Pani!” he shouted, abandoning his wallet on the counter and running after her. “No, Pani!”
    She dashed off the sidewalk and out into the street. His heart leapt into his throat when he heard the honk and squeal of tires as a transport vehicle slammed on its brakes in an attempt to avoid hitting her.
    Flashbacks of the accident that had taken his family skidded through his mind even as he heard the squeals of the second vehicle. Pani jumped back as it slid screeching on the road top in front of her. She stood rooted to the concrete as the monstrous machine narrowly missed her and Bach caught up to her.
    He grabbed the scruff of her dress, yanking her clean off her feet and hard against his chest. He caught several nasty looks from the irate drivers as he jogged with her back to the sidewalk, then traffic started up again.
    Luckily, she hadn’t caused an accident.
    Luckily, she hadn’t been killed.
    His anger hit him so hard that for a moment he felt completely blinded by it. He dropped to one knee on the sidewalk.
    Pani became unfrozen right quickly the instant he flung her over his make-shift lap. He flipped up the back of her dress, grabbed a hold of the back of her panties, and skinned them right down to the backs of her dimpled knees. It wasn’t until he saw his own hand that he realized he was still holding the unpaid for collar and leash.
    Just what he needed.
    Just what she needed, too.
    He stared at that strip of leather, his blood boiling for a full minute before he dropped the collar on the sidewalk. Pani screamed as