Baxter the Pac Dog’s Bonus Chapter- Between Chapter 21 and Chapter 22 of The Heart of a Champion
The city shimmered beneath a thousand neon lights as Baxter’s team stepped off the plane. Las Vegas — the fight capital of the world. Billboards blazed with the headline: “MAURY the ASSASSIN vs LEO the LEOPARD” and “BAXTER the PAC DOG vs ZORAN the KANGAROO”— LIVE AT THE MGM ARENA!”
“Woof! Woof! We made it in Vegas!” Baxter barked, eyes wide as he gazed at the glittering skyline. “I smell success—and hotel buffet!”
Billy laughed. “Stay focused, champ. We’re here to train, not to gamble.”
Willie smirked. “Besides, Baxter already knows how to roll — in the ring.”
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The Hype Storm
Within hours of their arrival, the world’s media swarmed the animal fighters and their team. ESPN, ABS News, and even talk-shows wanted interviews with the Mountain lion, the Leopard, the Kangaroo, and the boxing dog who defied nature. Cameras flashed as Baxter, dressed in a satin robe with “PAC-DOG” stitched across the back, strutted into the press room on two legs.
“Baxter!” one reporter shouted. “You’ve beaten an orangutan, recovered from a mountain-lion attack, and now you’re fighting Zoran the Kangaroo! How do you keep doing it?”
Baxter grinned. “Woof! Easy. I just keep my guard up, my tail down, and my heart up. Plus, I eat lots of salmon.”
The room erupted in laughter. Headlines exploded across the internet:
“Boxing Dog Takes Vegas by Storm!”
“PAC-DOG PROMISES A KNOCKOUT DOWN UNDER!”
For the first time, even skeptics began to believe. Tickets sold out in hours. Celebrities booked front-row seats. The Pac-Dog phenomenon was real.
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Delgado’s Shadow
But not everyone celebrated.
Inside a suite high above the Strip, promoter Art Delgado poured himself a drink and stared out the window. The phone on his desk buzzed.
“Boss,” said his assistant, “word is Baxter’s odds are even money now.”
Delgado’s smile faded into a thin, cold line. “We can’t have that. We don’t want the mutt to win. We already put a lot of money on the Kangaroo!”
He swiveled his chair, revealing a man waiting in the corner — Conrad, Maury’s brutal trainer.
Delgado raised his glass. “Time to remind the world who runs this sport.”
⸻
The Night Before the Fight
At the MGM gym, Baxter finished his final workout, gloves thudding rhythmically against the pads. Willie nodded approvingly. “That’s it. Now rest. Tomorrow’s your night.”
Billy gave Baxter a towel. “You’re ready, bud. No matter what happens, you already won.”
Baxter smiled softly. “Woof. Thanks, team. Let’s make Mom proud too.”
As they headed out, the gym lights flickered. A janitor pushed a cart nearby, humming — but something about his movement made Willie pause.
The “janitor” wore heavy boots… and slipped out the back door as soon as they turned away.
Later that night, in the hotel room, Baxter’s gloves lay on the table — except something seemed off. Willie picked one up, his brow furrowing. Inside the padding, a faint metallic smell. Glue. Chemical.
His instincts screamed.
“Billy! Don’t let Baxter use these tomorrow!”
They rushed the gloves to the commission office. The inspector’s face paled. “These are tampered. Someone mixed solvent into the padding — would’ve burned through his paws mid-fight.
Security swarmed, but the culprit had vanished into the Vegas night.
