A jackal with an unusual arm fracture was found alone, lying next to the forest tree line, just off the perimeter grounds of Anderson Science Center. The poor, wretched creature was hysterical, rocking back and forth, throwing his head backward and howling in a louder-than-expected manner. Perhaps he was left there by his own pack to perish, as severe injuries to animals are typically untreatable and fatal. Infection, starvation or death by another predator were all possible endpoints. Fortuitously though, the abandoned jackal was taken in at a nearby human medical center for treatment.

Aghhh-ow-Aghhh-aha-owow-ha-ha!

Inside the center, the jackal lay distraught on an exam table, inexplicably alternating between insufferable moaning and excitable laughter. He positioned his broken arm tenderly, while covering his face and gripping the collar at his neck with his other arm.

A human orthopedic team composed of Dr. Tomas and a junior resident named Ian prepared for the canine's medical treatment.

"How do you suppose this canine sustained this type of fracture?" Dr. Tomas asked. "It's not the kind of break we typically see from running or jumping."

"Uh, yeah, yeah. I agree," Ian answered. "It's not a typical break. Umm, I don't know. I'm not sure how it could have happened."

Dr. Tomas paused.

"Okay, well then, how would you describe the fracture? What would be your approach to fixing it?"

"Describe it?" Ian asked. "Well, umm... is it a complete break?"

Dr. Tomas furrowed his brow and dropped his shoulders. "Are you telling me or asking me?"

"I don't know."

"For heaven's sake, Ian! I know orthopedics is not your area of study, but you chose it as an elective! At the very least, please make an attempt to answer some of the questions. Don't always answer 'I don't know' to everything. Think for a change! Think, think, think!"

Hee-hee-hah-hah-whahahahah!!

The mongrel beast let loose a roar of laughter, like a hyena, while Ian turned red.

"This one sure is an ugly mutt," Ian muttered.

"Ian, please be kind to your patients," the elder scientist lectured.

Whahahahah-hee-hee! Ho-ho-oh-oh-oh!

The Canine laughed and snickered once again, then seemingly stuck out his tongue.

"Not to this stinking Sherman," Ian said under his breath.

"Ian... " Dr. Tomas called out again.

The golden jackal with black spots continued to chuckle, until he abruptly stopped.

The elder, human instructor had brought in a super-sized syringe with a corresponding oversized needle. He handed the sedative to the student.

Ian's eyes brightened.

"Since this patient is such a peppy fellow," Dr. Tomas instructed, "he'll likely need a larger dose of sedative, which means a larger volume of anesthetic. So you must make sure you place the needle deep into a large, fleshy muscle; one that can handle such a large dose."

"Like the butt muscle?" Ian asked, looking straight into the concerned mongrel's eyes.

" 'Butt muscle' is not correct medical terminology, Ian," the professor lectured. "There are several good-sized muscles at the animal's upper leg for administration... "

As Dr. Tomas continued talking, Ian neared the terror-stricken mongrel. He held the massive syringe in open view. He whispered something the jackal did not understand.

"I believe Elliot would call this muscle the karma muscle."

Ian abruptly plunged the needle into the animal's buttock.

Ohowwwww! Owowow-ow-ow-how-ow-ow--

The Canine howled, but quickly fell into a deep, deep sleep, away from the pain of his fractured arm.

——————————

A couple of hours later, the golden jackal found himself half-awake, lying on a recovery bed in the treatment area. Fighting the residual effects of anesthesia, the animal struggled to put himself to task. Left unattended, the jackal knew that now might be the only time to investigate the King's concern for a human 'plague.'

Sitting up, the animal spy noticed one obvious change -- an off-white cast on his arm -- the end-result from having had surgery to fix a premeditated fracture. Not adept at ambulating on his hind legs, the jackal knew the cast was going to be a problem. It would prohibit his ability to get around, especially quietly. He tossed an accompanying blue sling aside.

Next, the jackal reached out about his neck. A dark pliant collar was still present. He gave it a solid tug, reminding himself of his ordered servitude. He imagined a thick, metal brace attached to a heavier ball and chain, with him standing behind bars in his former cell. An empty dog dish in the corner only emphasized a constant hunger. A mental sneer came across his face.

From his recovery bed, the scruffy animal sniffed and sniffed, but could not smell anything different. He disconnected a loose restraining belt and shimmied to the edge of the mattress. Reaching out, he grabbed the railing and pulled himself close. Without warning, the railing gave way, and the lethargic mongrel flipped out of bed and onto the floor. In doing so, he unwittingly smacked his broken arm.

Owww! Ahh-Oww-ww-ww-ow-ow! Ah-ha-ha-ha! Ha-ha!

He restrained himself from a howling of pain, snickering and snorting, then laughing himself silly. The residual anesthesia only enhanced his pathologic side.

Fortunately, no human had come to the room despite all of the racket. Settling himself, the dopey mongrel limped to the exit door, which automatically slid open. He peeked out and saw nothing but a clear hallway running in either direction.

At the same time, the jackal caught wind of something different. Something distinct. An off-smell, as if death were a ghost, permeating through the room like a midst. This, he thought, was the smelly plague the King had talked about.

The yellow Canine shuddered, and the deviant smirk on his face disappeared.

What if he, himself, caught the plague? he thought.

The neurotic jackal groaned.

Smack! Smack! Smack!

He began to knock his messed-up head against the clean, glossy floor.

After a moment, he stopped and rested. He palpated the collar situated around his throat. It seemed to squeeze him as he took a hard swallow. He looked out the doorway once again and took in another deep breath.

Snifff-fff!

There it was -- that stale smell.

The yellow dog with black spots exited the recovery room now to investigate more fully.

He turned down an unknown and unmarked hallway, half-trotting and half-sliding, only to run into another unfamiliar passageway. Still, he followed the trail of odor. At one point, he felt lost and confused. The scent seemed to be all around him, no, behind him, and the Canine slowed his pursuit to a standstill. He perked up his ears and dangled his tongue.

Suddenly, a panel in the wall began to hum and move, and the dirty mongrel stepped to the side as it fully opened.

A couple of humans emerged, unaware of the mongrel hiding behind the panel door. Fortunately, the humans walked in the opposite direction, away from the cagey animal.

The jackal crept out into the open, salivating in pursuit. He stepped in the direction of the unsuspecting humans.

Sniff! Sniff!

There it was again! That musty stench again, trailing from the secret passageway through the wall.

For a split-second, the golden jackal wavered. He looked at the disappearing humans, and then at the unknown doorway. Leaning in one direction, the mongrel slipped on the floor, only to catch his balance.

The sliding panel jerked and began to close.

Without another thought, the yellow Canine leapt through the closing doorway.

Curiously, the subtle odor led the jackal down an unexpected, secret stairwell.