The One

As Lola and I relaxed in the front yard, a grey sedan pulled up.  Two men jumped quickly from the car, darted up the steps and grabbed Lola.  They threw her in the trunk and slammed it.
"Bait dog" I heard them mutter as they jumped back in the car and sped away.  I started running after the car, feeling terror, knowing I was about to scream...

When I woke up.

Lola and I relaxed in the side yard.  When we get up, she does her business and then likes to lay in the grass.  I just sit next to her and drink coffee.  I took her to finish her booty business before going inside.  She scrambled down the weedy slope of the abandoned lot next to our house.  She hopped around, trying to get in the perfect shitting position, then suddenly darted through the weeds mid-act.  She was tangled, her leash was tangled too, until she burst through the vines that contained her.  Lola ran wildly to the cement path that leads to our porch, one leg pulled close to her body, rigidly, with even her toes in a spasm.  She sprawled on the cement.   

I called for Alec.

"Maybe it's a sprain," he guessed as I tried to figure out what was wrong with Lola.  I gently lifted the hurt limb.  Two red puncture wounds were on the inside of her leg.  I picked my fifty pound dog up and ran for the car, screaming at Alec to get the keys. 

Lola laid limp in my arms as Alec weaved around cars and sped down the road.  Her eyes were closing.
"Wake up, Lola, wake up!" Alec yelled, clapping his hands and driving at the same time.  Her eyes fluttered open, only to begin closing again.  Her body sagged like a bag of beans, head and arms on my lap, butt and lower legs sliding to the floor.  I smelled urine.
"Wake up, baby, wake up!" I said furtively, clapping my free hand against my leg.
"Run the light!" I screamed.
It was the longest ride of my life.  I knew she wouldn't make it to the vet.  I couldn't believe that I was holding her in my arms while she died. 
"Eyes open, Lola, eyes open!" I implored, manually opening her eyes for her.

I darted from the car, carrying my dog.
"Please!" I called as I burst through the door.  "My dog has been bitten by a snake!".
A doctor came out and hustled Lola to a waiting room.  Lola's friend, the one that calls her mamí, came out.  The man with the pick with the blue pitts just like her.  She was active now.  They took her in the back.

I stood alone in the room with the door shut, shaking and hyperventilating.  I was praying.  The longer I waited, the more I knew that she was dying.

The doctor emerged.
"We think it is some sort of bee sting" he said.
"She may be allergic," he continued, "I gave her a Benadryl shot and an anti-inflammatory shot for the swelling in her leg.  I want her to stay here a few hours so that I can observe her".
The man with the pick watched me.
"She is going to go upstairs with his dog and we are going to check on her every few minutes" the doctor stated, motioning to the man with the pick.
"Your dog is up there?" I asked him, feeling as though my eyes were bulging from my head.  The blue pitts.  The ones just like her.
"Yes". 
He patted me on the shoulder.

"She's okay".