“What happened?” I ask though I know it’s not
necessary.
“Damn bastard’s bit me.”
Thulani glares at the dog, but the thing lies completely
still, as if this last action on its part pushed it past its
limits. Not even the slightest movement of the ribs betrays life.
Odd that no flies are buzzing around it – I’d have thought that
they’d find the dog far tastier than me.
Now’s not the time to worry about that. Thulani’s been hurt
and all the determination to do the right thing has left him; he
allows me to lead him back to the car where I dig in my bag for a
plaster.
“Ma’ll have antiseptic,” I tell him, but I don’t like the look
of the wound. A canine sank into the soft flesh of the ball of this
thumb. Not quite a case for stitches, but he’ll definitely have to
go for a rabies
