White Dog Page #4

It's right.

It's humane.

Now, the officials...

they won't understand that.

They believe in long words and...

long prison terms.

They won't give a tinker's damn

for a dog with a mental problem.

They'll just shoot him.

what I'm sayin' is...

if this gets out...

we're in trouble.

Oh, to hell with all this.

Let's get at these lamb chops.

Come on. Let's eat.

Come on. Forget it.

Keys.

Now I know why it took you so long

to get that dog to eat out of your hand.

Boy, come here.

Good boy.

That didn't hurt, did it?

You're a weird one,

you know that?

Yeah. So you're finally

beginning to trust me, huh?

Now, you're gonna remember this

tomorrow, now, aren't you?

Yeah. One last test, okay?

Well, a blessing from heaven, Keys.

Five weeks are up,

and you've licked the disease.

I don't think so.

What the hell is there to think about?

Look at him.

All that black skin

for him to be chewin'on...

and he's happy as a clam,

eatin' like a horse.

That's no proof

he's permanently reconditioned.

I'm kind to him, Jack.

He finally learned

to love and trust me.

But he only knows that my blackness...

is no longer the enemy

he's been trained to hate and attack.

Well, in my book,

your experiment is a howling success.

Not yet.

I have to test him with a black who hasn't

fed him - somebody he doesn't know.

A new black enemy.

Charlie, I guarantee

you won't get hurt.

Easy does it. Easy.

Well, Julie is sitting on a hot griddle

waiting for your miracle.

Why don't you give her a call

and tell her he's a hundred percent cured?

- Ninety-nine.

- One percent.

Now, that percent

has got me in a corner.

He's still on the razor's edge

of a mental breakdown.

That dog's been subjected to so much

brutal punishment, anything can explode.

Come on. Call her.

Julie. Keys.

well, as soon as you can get here,

I'll make the final, crucial test.

I would say it's...

almost "V" for victory.

I'll be right there!

Miss Julie Sawyer?

- Yes?

- I'm Wilber Hull.

These are my grandchildren.

Helen here is six.

Theona's eight.

- Hi.

- This is the lady.

Hello, Miss Sawyer.

Hi. I'm in a real big hurry.

You'll have to excuse me.

Where's my dog?

The S.P.C.A. Said you have

our dog, Miss Sawyer.

He ran away from the trailer park.

We're very grateful you took

such good care of him.

We've brought you some chocolates.

- Did you train him?

- I sure did.

Since he was just a puppy.

To be a white dog?

And the best of the lot.

- You look here, young lady.

- You sick son of a b*tch!

You got two puppies there. You gonna

teach 'em to be as sick as you are?

Do you know what

your grandfather did to that dog?

He turned that dog into a monster!

A killer!

Don't you let him turn you

into monsters either!

Don't listen to a damn word he says

about anything! Not a damn word!

You shut your damn mouth!

Don't even touch me!

If you don't give us our dog back,

I'll go to the police.

Go to the police!

Go, you son of a b*tch!

I'd like to see you walk in there

and tell them this story.

Then I'd like

to haul your ass in court...

and expose your sick mind

for the son of a b*tch you are.

The dog has been cured!

Do you understand me?

The dog has been cured!

Cured by a black man.

You did it, Mr. Keys.

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