She tossed the steak two feet to the side, making sure it landed just far enough to force the dog to shift. It hesitated only for a second before inching forward, dragging its body across the muddy grass. Its mouth clamped over the edge of the steak and began tearing hungrily.
Maya moved fast, her hands steady. She crouched, wedged her foot beside the fence for balance, and pressed one hand against the wet slats, pushing them apart. With her other hand, she reached forward and gently pulled the dog’s leg free, one careful motion at a time—until it slipped out.