Post by Hey, I'm Cashe on Feb 10, 2024 9:23:55 GMT -5
In your mind right now.. Imagine the filthiest alleyway you can conjure up. Wet, grimy and slimy in every crevice and corner. A large rat scurried from one side of the alley to the other and at either end was a bustling street, busy with both foot and vehicular traffic. Dumpsters that were overflowing with garbage, AC vents that rattled with noise.
A sight best left to imagination and not one to be explored. Yet to a dog like me? It was a shortcut.
Along the alley were multiple doors to the buildings that helped form the alley itself. Backdoors to businesses mostly and about midway, one of those doors burst open! Two Hoomans stumble out, a male and a female and they were both clearly in heat!
Bouncing off the dumpster nearby, they rolled against the wall of a building. The man aggressively spun her around. She assumes a position I have watched Hooman Dog Catchers make other Hoomans stand plenty of times living on these streets. Her hands against the wall with her back arched and ass pressed against him. The Hooman male squats down, yanking her wearable fur down off of her rumpious backside. I’ve met a few dogs without any fur and their Hoomans make them wear removable fur as well.. Very weird.
Suddenly, the Hooman male buries his face in-between her butt cheeks. A familiar greeting in the animal world but I haven't seen any Hoomans do that, not in an alleyway anyway.. Her nails dig into the wall as her moans crawl across the floor of the alley.
“That's how you say Hello!” But what they probably heard was “arrraaagghhrrr.. RUFF!”
The man stumbles sideways, falling to his side as the woman spins around, yanking her wearable fur up as both of them stare at me.
“Awwww! It's a doggie!”
Her voice was welcoming and every dog I know wants to be shown affection. I bet she gives great belly rubs! With my tail tucked, I move closer to her. You can never be too sure with these Hoomans though..
”Hey! Shoo you mutt! Get outta here!”
Scooting away as the man got up and fake lunged at me, he showed me his teeth. He was mad and I didn't understand why, Hoomans were a mystery. Reaching down, he picks up what I’ve heard called a beer bottle. He threw it at me, I leaped sideways as it hit the ground and the glass container shattered across the alleyway ground! Instead of tucking my tail and running away, I stood my ground.
“I’ll bite you where you hang low!” I growled at him but they heard it differently. “Grrrrowwworrr Ruff ruff!” To be fair, the translation was tricky if you didn't understand both languages.
“Maybe he's hungry?” The woman questions.
“Ruff Ruff” is what they heard as I turned back to the female wanting to answer her curiosity. “I am, feed me!”
I shouldn't have taken my eyes off the Hooman Male. “STUPID DOG!” He yells and I try to move but his hind leg plows into my ribs causing me to yelp as I flop onto my side. He rushes in wanting to step on me, the same leg he kicked me with. I scramble back to all fours and he misses as I slip out of his path. “Aaaagh!” He missed big and fell onto his back like HE wanted belly rubs. Now growling at me as he turned over to get up. I dove at him and bit down on his forearm! I have tasted blood before, it wasn't good.
“BAD DOG!” Her voice surprised me as I let go of the Hooman’s arm. Head lowered, tail tucked, I didn't like those words. They were hurtful and she had been so welcoming before.. Did I do something wrong? “NO! GO AWAY!” She shouted and her face was watering from her eyes..
Maybe I did do something wrong..
“RUFF! RUFF! RUFF!” I shouted with emotion and I hope they understood me when I said “Fuck you both” before turning and running in the opposite direction. I ran so fast, I wanted to hide, to remove myself from the shame I was feeling. Is biting bad if bad was being done to me first? He hurt me, I hurt him. That seems like a fair trade to me, it was self defense. At the end of the alley, I didn't bother turning around as I took the corner to the right.
“GOTCHA!”
I was startled! I didn't see it coming but the noose around my neck tightened as I looked up and saw the familiar wearable fur of the Dog Catcher.
“Aaarrrorrowaaaaghrr! Grrrr! Ruff! Yelp! Aaaaaghororwrr!”
Which translates to: “Owwww you fucker, that hurts! Ooowwww!” In Hooman talk. His grip to the back of my neck hurt and as far as I was concerned, he deserved what came next.
“OOOWWWWW! YOU BIT ME!”
Yes I did! Squirming in a backwards step, I tried to slip free of the noose around my neck.. It was too tight. “You aren't going anywhere! We put Bad Dogs down! Stupid mutt!”
And with that, I was caught. I was going back to a place I had been before. Lockup.
“More recently you claimed that Matt Knox was obsessed with you. That he had come into UGWC and had you in his sights but it's funny because not ONCE.. Not a single time can I remember him calling you out. I hear the names of JC, Sebastian, Lucy Wylde or Sloane Taylor. THESE are the names that people hear and know OUTSIDE of the home where you put up your Ikea furniture.
It wasn't until I showed up, came into WrestleStock that I first heard your name.
Now, please, PLEASE don't take this as an insult because I am sure that you have had your head solely buried in the sand of UGWC that you don't know even a QUARTER of the names out there doing big things in plenty of places other than this company.
Even Seb is seeking new places of employment not because he has done all there is to do in UGWC but because there are pastures out there that are of different flavor and not even a DOG wants to eat the same food his entire existence.. What about you? Are you comfortable here?
You should be. You should be in the same way that JC is comfortable here and let me tell you a truth about me. I had no plans to show up in UGWC. I wasn't going to do WrestleStock but then JC opened his big fucking mouth one day on Twitter..
Telling me what I have done in this business didn't matter because I hadn't done it in UGWC. Where his success comes from.. Where he, like you are best known only from here. Where most of your claim to fame can be found within the COMFORT of your surroundings.
In this business, at least for me. Comfortable is for those who seek to become lazy. I will find no comfort here because the deck is stacked against me..
You're a homegrown talent and the moment I signed up for Global Challenge and heard you have won not one but two of them in the past? YOU became a small obsession of mine.. See and unlike Knox, I have waited for this moment. I have hoped for the day it would arrive.. Not because you are known anywhere else, not because you are a multiple time World Heavyweight Champion or the current Cross Hemisphere Champion but because when it comes to Global fucking Challenge under the UGWC banner? YOU are the bar set for everyone else to reach for and I am here to do some pull ups..”
This place was depressing. Whimpers, howls and noises made from a variety of other animals. Just like me, they had been captured and their freedom was taken from them. I didn't belong here but most of the others would probably say the same.
“RRRRUFF! What are you in for?” An overweight and wrinkled bulldog asked me from the cage next to mine. He had a wisdom to his voice like he knew all the best hiding spots to bury a bone.
“I bit the Dog Catcher..” I said with a sigh. Still having the label of ‘Bad Dog’ on my mind, I remembered a friend who bit a Dog Catcher and I never saw him again. I didn't want to disappear. “I was a bad dog..”
“What?! Ruff!” The bulldog says with a rise in excitement as he adjusted and rolled onto all fours. “You hear that? RRRUFF! This guy BIT the Catcher!”
Suddenly the whole place started going crazy. Dogs were howling, the cats could be heard making whatever noise those evil bastards make through the walls. A few cages down, a greyhound was doing laps inside his cage. My stare at him caught the attention of the Bulldog next to me.
“Don't mind him..” Joining me in watching the Greyhound, the Bulldog adds. “He thinks he is a race dog but watch..” Sure enough, within a few seconds, the Greyhound running laps, crashes snout first into the wall of the cage. “We think he has Raabies, but he hasn't been tested.”
“Why is everyone happy I bit the Catcher?” I was stumped by the applause I was receiving. Being praised wasn't something I handled very well.
“Some Hoomans deserve to be bit.” The Bulldog responds before bending at the right angle and gnawing at his boy parts.
“What are you here for? Were you a Bad Dog as well?”
Taking a break from his biting itch, the Bulldog looked up at me with his tongue flopping around. “I kept crapping on the carpet.” He didn't seem bothered by his ‘crime’. “All of us here have a story..”
After the celebration of me biting the Catcher faded, a howl that would wake the dead filled the room of cages. I wanted to see what the fuss was about but the old Bulldog and everyone else proceeded to curl up and pretend to be sleeping. I didn't understand at first.. Not until the doors opened and in walked trouble.
“RRRRUFFF! Guess what, fleabags! I just overheard my partner say that due to funding, a handful of you won't make it through the night!”
A German Shepard with a wearable vest of fur laid over his back strutted down the aisle. His laugh was almost a light rrroarraah of sorts. Very evil.
He seemed like a prick, looked like a prick and.. I smell the air outside the cage after he passed by and yerrp, he smells like a prick as well! I wasn't positive what a prick was or smelled like but I picked up bad habits from Hoomans and other dogs fluent in Hooman. Turning around, the German Shepherd leaves the same way he came in but as he leaves, he gives us a final word, some advice. “Sleep tight.. For some, it will be your last.” And he was gone.
“Who is that?!” I asked as everyone started to come out of their fake napping positions.
“That's Z!”
“Z? Who’s he?” I had seen Dog Catchers before but he seemed different. He was a dog, not a Hooman for starters..
The bulldog tried to explain. “Zaney. He used to be one of us, a stray? He slept in these same cages just like we are now.”
“What happened? Did he find his forever home?” Another term picked up by listening and learning the Hooman language.
“NOTHING IS FOREVER!” The Bulldog snaps at the cage separating us. “He betrayed us all. He wants you to think he’s a dog like we are but..”
“His fur did look extra shiny! I bet he gets taken care of and fed well. I bet he’s a Goooood boy!”
“He pretends to be a dog but he's really just a Catcher on all fours.. He’s NOT one of us!”
The room was lit up by two lights that hung above our heads and they didn't give off much light. If not for the small window at the top of the far wall, we wouldn't know the difference between day and night.
“CAAAW CAAAW!”
The light coming from the window was suddenly cloaked in darkness. Looking, there was a bird standing with its wings opened as the light from behind him gave him a heroic entrance.
“Has Zaney come through yet?” The bird caaaws as he drops down from the window and lands on top of one of the cages. “Oohhh fresh meat!” Flapping his wings, he leaps, glides over and lands on my cage. Looking up, I make eye contact with his blackened bird eyes. “Did you know this is a Kill Shelter, dog breath?”
“What?!”
“Can you smell it? It's in the air! You might take that big L of life!”
“Leave him alone, Knoxxy! He just got here..” The bulldog speaks out to defend me.
“Nobody asked you Tacty dog!” Ruffling his feathers as he hops from the bars on top of the cage. Knoxxy the Raven had some size to him for a bird. “Caaaw CAAW! Special delivery!” Knoxxy proclaims before a glob of white creamy shit falls from his body and into the cage of Tacty the Bulldog. “Mind your business!”
“Say.. Knoxxy?” Tacty smells the bird droppings and part of me expected him to lick it. He didn't. “The new guy here, what's your name again?”
He was talking to me. “DiOGee.” I lifted my neck to show I had a collar with a dog tag but that was from what seemed like another lifetime ago.. Dog years amirite?
“Yeah, DiOGee was saying how before he came in? He watched a Goose with a funny accent talking to that Red Bottomed Squirrel you like.. Ain't that right, DiOGee?”
I had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. “CAAAW CAW!” Knoxxy flapped his wings like he was trying to conjure up hurricane winds. “Not my Amber-booty?! I bet it's that ‘Proper, cheerio’ hoe named Sebbie the Webby Feet!”
The names I was learning today will be forgotten by tomorrow. More so if I end up as one of the dogs that won't be seeing tomorrow. I had to get out of here! “Is this true? You seen her with that Goose?!” Knoxxy asked me with authority coming out of his beak. I improvised.
“Yeah, she’s like my Sister. She said she doesn't like crows..”
“CAAAW CAAAW! I am NOT a Crow!! I am RAVEN, Never/More!” He was frustrated to say the least. Flapping his wings, he got a running start and almost took flight but stopped as he came over another cage. Inside was a Husky, he almost looked like a wolf. “CAAAAW CAAAW! Look at this sad excuse for a fleabag!” For a second time, Knoxxy the Raven turned and dropped off a special delivery as he called it to the Husky. “That's for you Extra!”
“My name is Ezr–” The husky whimpered.
“CAAAAW CAAAAW! Nobody cares!!” Knoxxy takes flight and lands on the window seal. “I’m coming my Ember bootied beauty!”
A silence fell over the room after the bird left. Every dog in here was waiting, that's all we could do. Wait and see if we were one of the dogs who would not see tomorrow. “Am I really going to die?”
“This tournament.
Winning it gives an opportunity not for just one of the titles this company has to offer but THE Title that this company has to offer. My wife has held that title. Her ex boyfriend has held that title. You have held that title and currently, your Best Friend, Alan Wallace holds that Championship.
You had to have asked yourself, what if? What if you didn't fall into a hole and go 0-2? What if you had managed to win every match, claw your way to yet another piece of the pie for your own success? You questioned Knox’s motives but what are your own?
Selfishness?
Greed?
Do you NEED the win? No.. But you wanted it didn't you?
There is that feeling of great pride when two friends can share the ring together with everything on the line and how epic that would have been if you hadn't fumbled the ball.. You wanted all of this and it has slowly slipped out of your grasp.
The tournament, the accolades of what can transpire from winning it. You, like everyone else on the UGWC roster might find happiness, even a respect with holding the Cross Hemisphere, Chaos or going on the adventures of being the Conquest Champion but you WANT to be World Champion again..
And yet, I don't want the belt.
I can say that, I’ve said it before in this very tournament. Except now? Seeing how bad Knox wants me to lose so he can have that top spot? Knowing how many people like you, people like Alan, people like Seb, Hastings, or even that bugged eyed witch, Eden Morgan.. Along with many others who have held that title were in part, MADE because of that title?
I have an interest.
Just the simple fact that JC told me what I have done hasn't mattered because I didn't do it here.. That gives me motivation to do what his BIG BITCH ASS hasn't done in his own comfort zone..
I will TAKE it..
I will WEAR it and I will defend it..
I will remove the opportunity from Knox. He is success hungry and a whore willing to do just about anything to achieve it.. Yet his ONE roadblock to that was losing to me. He won't get Larry Tact for an opportunity, he won't see your Best Friend for one either because I prevented that from happening! At best, he gets to rekindle the obsession you THINK he has for you!
So get your circle-jerk of people together. Bring Alan, bring Knox and have them both narrate how this will go. Have them tell you secrets, feed you information to use against me. Have them stroke your faded arrogance of an ego and say that you can win one more match in a tournament you have otherwise failed at.
Come to the ring with your chin held high. Come to the ring with the mindset that you still have something to prove but fully understand that if by CHANCE you win? You open the door for more of this.. More of you versus I and I PROMISE you that isn't attention you want more of..”
“Am I really going to die?” I asked the question but didn't expect an answer. I was kind of just speaking it into the void that we were all facing. The void being an impending death that lingered in all of our minds.. Well except maybe that Greyhound.
“.. Yes.” A voice directly across from me responded. I don't think I noticed this dog before. Hidden at the back of his own cage, he crept forward into the light so I could see him. His eyes low and piercing as his tongue slowly licked around his mouth, he stared back at me. “..Hello, DiOGee..”
Nothing about his tone sounded friendly. Almost immediately I knew that HE was a very Bad Dog. In most dogs, we are born with a sense of danger. Letting us know when something doesn't feel right. It could be the tearful sounds of our Hoomans needing comfort or a hind leg coming to kick you in the ribs. We feel this in our bones. It's why some of us become Service Assistants to Hoomans who can't see or hear.
“It's not my time.. It can't be!” I shuttered under my breath.
“Fan, leave this dog alone!” Tacty the Bulldog chimed in as he and the majority of other dogs locked in kennels curled in that sleep position. They were either tired of waiting or tired of worrying.
“.. But I want to talk to him. He intrigues me..” The more I got to see him, I gained a sense of what kind of dog he was.
“You're one of those long dogs aren't you?” Brown and long bodied, I had run into these dogs a few times. Hoomans called them ‘Wieners’ but most dogs I know had red peckers. I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again, Hoomans are strange.
“He won't make it through the night. He’s bound for the next life..” I turn to see Tacty the Bulldog give me a final comment before he closes his eyes.
“... Yes, I am a Dachshund. We don't really like being called Wieners.” Turning as he spoke, his lengthy body showed in the light better. He was a tiny dog but something told me he had big dog energy. “And you? What breed are you?”
“My Mother was a Pitbull. My Father was named Jack Russell. Weird name for a dog if you ask me..”
I thought about that a lot. How that worked. My Mother was a stocky dog and my Father? Well, I never knew him but I’ve seen other dogs of the same breed. Small dogs.
“... A unique mix, indeed..” The wiener dog named ‘Fan’ said with a drag to his every word. “I like it!”
Not that his intrigue interested me any. My tail wagged as if he had called me a Good Boy. Maybe if we both survive the night, he will become a friend. I didn't have many of those.
“What are you in for?” I ask because that seemed to be a common question in a place like this. I wasn't sure if I was interested or just trying to kill time but I anticipated the unknown he was about to reveal to me. “I bit someone..” I added.
“.. So I heard..” The Dachshund flopped down onto the floor of his cell. “I bit someone as well..”
He had my attention. Maybe I wasn't alone in my guilt of biting a Hooman. “You did?!”
“.. Yes. I did.” He didn't have any emotion in his voice. A dragging baseline filled with an emptiness but there was something more to his voice. Something that felt familiar but to an extreme. Pain and sorrow.
“...I belonged to a family. Since I can remember, I was Danny Boy Winston. A family name. I was part of a Family..”
Looking around, I couldn't believe that every other dog was sound asleep. Had they heard this story? It was a nice distraction to have at a time like this.
“.. I was a Proud member of that Family. Having Hoomans was the best part of life for a long while..”
“What happened?” I asked as I laid down, curled up and got as comfortable as I could be.
“.. They call me ‘Fan’ because of why I am here. You know those metal things that spin around and blow air?”
Nodding, I added a vocal response as well. The lights were dim, the day was creeping into night. “Yeah?”
“I would open my mouth in front of them and all the smells and taste in the air would fill my mouth. It was a favorite pastime of mine.” He let the words settle for a moment. I knew exactly what he meant. I preferred chewing on socks but to each their own. “.. I had a Mother, a Father and a Brother.. His name was Jason.” His head lays over his extended front legs. The Fan dog was focused on his Hooman Brother. “He was 7 in Hooman years.” A baby in comparison to a Dog’s life.
“That sounds nice, did he give you belly rubs?” I got excited as my tail leaped around. Part of me had the urge to spin around in a circle but I didn't really have the room to do so and I didn't want to get up.
“The best ones.. But..” Slowly, his eyes close and open. “I was sitting in front of the air blower, catching air.. and.. Jason stepped on my tail!”
Whimpering, I knew that feeling and it hurt. Still, I listened.
“.. Something happened. I cried, spun around, leaped up and sunk my teeth into his side.” Letting out a faint whimper, he was going over the memory. Before telling more, the Wiener dog named ‘Fan’ slowly pushed up onto all fours. “.. I loved that Hooman and I bit into him and.. I couldn't stop.”
My eyes opened so wide that I should have seen more of the room.
“I kept biting. I tasted his blood and.. It was a delight! I wanted more so I kept biting!! RUFF RUFF!” He had a reaction of joy. The first expression of emotion other than his lingering dread that carried in his voice.
A few of the dogs jolted awake. Pretty sure the Greyhound farted but he jumped up and started running laps again. It made a ton more noise at night than it did earlier. “Shhhh! You're going to wake Z!” Tacty the Bulldog growls.
It was too late. Through the doors came a bolting German Shepherd. “Ggrrrrrr RUFF RUFF What's going on in here?!”
We all went quiet. Making eye contact with him, Zaney barks at me with a growl that follows behind it. “What are you looking at?! Go to sleep! It won't be long now!” Some dogs can smile and Zaney flashed me one as he passed by and exited the room. All the lights shut down soon after he left. We sat in complete darkness.
“... See you tomorrow, DiOGee.” Fan dog said and his voice was even more eerie in the dark. “I feel like we bonded and I want to be friends..”
I dared not respond. It took a while but eventually, I fell asleep.
“You’ve talked a lot about putting respect into this tournament. The Titles that are sitting at the finish line or the history of this company. That respect you want people to have isn't something that is given before it is earned!
I will be DAMNED if I come into this company or the next and think because I took a booking or a payday that it has earned any respect. You want my respect, take it inside the ring. You want me to put respect on this tournament and the history of it? Why, because you’ve won it a few times?
That's not how that works, at least not with me. Look at other companies. IWF, TPW, WGWF, Triad, or XWF! These companies have history, they have titles but all of them outside of TPW and XWF, I have no respect for. Not their histories or the paper weights that they drag around claiming to be true Championships. I respect the history in which I want to be a part of and not just because it's popular or the members demand it to be respected. To me, history is best left in the past where the current day will be buried tomorrow.
Honestly, when I first showed up in UGWC for WrestleStock last year. I had no respect. Not for the company, the history or the Titles that other people were claiming mattered because until you are defending it against me, why SHOULD it matter to me?
The thing is..
That outlook has changed. Not because I’ve won a few matches. Not because I am ONE win away from getting Larry Tact inside of a UGWC ring for the second time in the second event I have shown up for but because other than Raabies, Konrad or the Lord, I have been tested and challenged every time I have stepped foot inside the ring with four initials..
From WrestleStock to Global Challenge, I have taken the tests of strength that this roster has provided and I simply crave more!
Will you offer me another challenge on a Global scale or will you be a victim found lying on the floor of your own home because you couldn't STOP the intruder who climbed in through the window and TOOK what you hold of value?
You WON'T be Global Challenge winner for the third time and your opportunity to try and become a FOUR time UGWC World Heavyweight Champion has all but ended, at least now, at least when it comes to THIS moment and THIS tournament.
Tell Knox that you have FAILED him because he is going to be soooooo disappointed WHEN I beat you..”
Ohhhh my head! Before my eyes even open, my head was pounding like an alarm was going off. As a dog, I wasn't sure what the proper term was for it but my head had some aching to it as I rose up from my nap. Trying to stretch out on the inside of a cage. It doesn't go well for medium to large dogs. I could have forgotten where I was from the throbbing in my head.
Then I remembered.
Snapping around, I looked from cage to cage. To see who was still there and who had been taken away. The Greyhound was gone. The poodle that sat off by themselves was as well. Even that Husky, Extra? He was missing. Looking next to me, Tacty the Bulldog was on his back, nuts hanging off to the side and sprawled out.
“CAAAW CAAAW!! What's up, hoes!?” It was Knoxxy the Raven again. Taking a gander over the layout, he swoops in and lands directly over my cage. “You.. You lied to me!”
“I did?” My eyes tingled from the light. Adding to my brain pains, I couldn't be sure which part was a lie.
“She's not really your Sister, is she?”
The long stare I must have given him. “The squirrel? Same Father..” I lied again. He was a bird, I would totally kick his ass in a one on one situation.
“I like you.. I don't know why but I do.. Part of me also hopes Zaney gets you. Just destroys you and I would also like that as well. I’m torn right now.. CAAAW CAAW!”
“We lost a few overnight. Leave him be..” Tacty the Bulldog barks softly. He was just getting up.
“CAAAW CAAAW! I’ll pluck your eyes out!”
Tacty wasn't having it. Jumping up, he knocked into the ceiling of the cage. Knoxxy leaped up and kept himself in the air with the flapping of his wings. While they caaw’d and barked at each other, I got the sensation to look across from where I was. To see if ‘Fan’ dog was still with us.
“... Hello, DiOGee..” He was there. I wasn't sure if I was grateful or disappointed. “Did you think they took me as well?”
“I–” My groaning bark was cut short as everyone went quiet. Knoxxy landed up on the window seal but kept a bird's eye view as a few voices could be heard.
“We want something that won't die. Something sturdy, you know?” It was a Hooman female. Sounded a bit older. What did she want and why did everyone in the room care?
“Like a Lobster!!” Another much younger sounding Hooman female shouted.
“Sloaney, you slo-slo.. Do we have a Lobster door? No. We have a dog door! We’re getting a dog!”
What was going on, I wondered. Tacty was the only one not fully invested in the Hoomans. He was busy having a morning bath and he was snout deep in his netherland regions. That must be filthy, he was tending to it the night before as well!
Turning to the sound of a cage squeal. I find that the ‘Fan’ dog has somehow unlocked the gate of his cell. “What are you doing?!” I tried to keep my howled voice low.
“... I want to come and visit you..” I wasn't sure he could say anything without it sounding creepy. I wasn’t scared of those big explosions in the sky that happened once a few times a year but this dog? This wiener named ‘Fan’? He was creepy. I shook like I had fleas.
“You should stay where you belong. There's no room in here for you!” I tried to explain but he crept from his cage to mine. In seconds, he had my gate unlocked. I lowered, ready to attack but a familiar voice spoke out and took both of our attention. It came from the room outside of the doors. I had no idea what was out there but it felt close.
“The kennels are back this way..” The voice of the Hooman Catcher spoke. Was he sending for another round of dogs to put down?! I was twitching but I knew it wasn't like when I ate that batch of brownies once.. They were not regular brownies.
“Go.. Pick someone out..” The older Hooman female spoke out. It seemed like forever with no other voice barking. Hooman or dog. The anticipation was thick in the room as we waited to see what would happen next.
“Hello..?” A young one comes through the doors. Not a speck of aggression about her. “HELLO? Are there any animals in here?!”
My eyes were locked on the wiener dog named ‘Fan’ as he pulled the gate on his cage closed as was back where he belonged. It was at that moment that his story played in my mind. How he enjoyed biting his own Hooman and how this little Hooman female was right there for the pickings.
I made a choice.
Barreling out of my cage, I stumble and flop onto the floor. The little girl froze with her blue eyes, big and beautiful locked onto me. “Hi..” She said with hesitation.
I let my eyes glance over at the ‘Fan’ dog before turning back to her stare. “... Hhhaaarr?” I tried to speak the language so she would understand. I was feeling like my choice was another bad one. I was a bad dog after all, or so they say but then.. She smiled.. I ran at her and her arms fell around me.
.
..
…
“I found one!” The little Hooman female steps aside and I was cowering as I placed eyes on the Catcher that threatened to hurt me. Zaney, the German Shepherd stood up with his chest out. ”I choose him!”
“He’s unavailable, he is designated for euthanasia this afternoon. He bit me yesterday.. He’s a bad dog!”
Scolding me with his eyes, I wasn't able to cower any lower. I expected a beating. “I liiiiiiike him! Come here, boy!”
“Sloaney, you really want him? That's the one?” The older Hooman female asks.
“Yerrp!” Little Sloaney doubles down on her choice.
Sighing. “Fine, let's sign the papers. How much?”
“Noooo!” Little Sloaney shouts as she rudely stops scratching behind my ears. Hurrying over to her Hooman, Sloaney tugs on the arm part of her wearable fur. The older Hooman leans down as Sloaney whispers to her. “Let me borrow the money, he’s mine. I want to adopt him!”
Was I a Bad Dog? Maybe but now I was one that had a Home..
A sight best left to imagination and not one to be explored. Yet to a dog like me? It was a shortcut.
Along the alley were multiple doors to the buildings that helped form the alley itself. Backdoors to businesses mostly and about midway, one of those doors burst open! Two Hoomans stumble out, a male and a female and they were both clearly in heat!
Bouncing off the dumpster nearby, they rolled against the wall of a building. The man aggressively spun her around. She assumes a position I have watched Hooman Dog Catchers make other Hoomans stand plenty of times living on these streets. Her hands against the wall with her back arched and ass pressed against him. The Hooman male squats down, yanking her wearable fur down off of her rumpious backside. I’ve met a few dogs without any fur and their Hoomans make them wear removable fur as well.. Very weird.
Suddenly, the Hooman male buries his face in-between her butt cheeks. A familiar greeting in the animal world but I haven't seen any Hoomans do that, not in an alleyway anyway.. Her nails dig into the wall as her moans crawl across the floor of the alley.
“That's how you say Hello!” But what they probably heard was “arrraaagghhrrr.. RUFF!”
The man stumbles sideways, falling to his side as the woman spins around, yanking her wearable fur up as both of them stare at me.
“Awwww! It's a doggie!”
Her voice was welcoming and every dog I know wants to be shown affection. I bet she gives great belly rubs! With my tail tucked, I move closer to her. You can never be too sure with these Hoomans though..
”Hey! Shoo you mutt! Get outta here!”
Scooting away as the man got up and fake lunged at me, he showed me his teeth. He was mad and I didn't understand why, Hoomans were a mystery. Reaching down, he picks up what I’ve heard called a beer bottle. He threw it at me, I leaped sideways as it hit the ground and the glass container shattered across the alleyway ground! Instead of tucking my tail and running away, I stood my ground.
“I’ll bite you where you hang low!” I growled at him but they heard it differently. “Grrrrowwworrr Ruff ruff!” To be fair, the translation was tricky if you didn't understand both languages.
“Maybe he's hungry?” The woman questions.
“Ruff Ruff” is what they heard as I turned back to the female wanting to answer her curiosity. “I am, feed me!”
I shouldn't have taken my eyes off the Hooman Male. “STUPID DOG!” He yells and I try to move but his hind leg plows into my ribs causing me to yelp as I flop onto my side. He rushes in wanting to step on me, the same leg he kicked me with. I scramble back to all fours and he misses as I slip out of his path. “Aaaagh!” He missed big and fell onto his back like HE wanted belly rubs. Now growling at me as he turned over to get up. I dove at him and bit down on his forearm! I have tasted blood before, it wasn't good.
“BAD DOG!” Her voice surprised me as I let go of the Hooman’s arm. Head lowered, tail tucked, I didn't like those words. They were hurtful and she had been so welcoming before.. Did I do something wrong? “NO! GO AWAY!” She shouted and her face was watering from her eyes..
Maybe I did do something wrong..
“RUFF! RUFF! RUFF!” I shouted with emotion and I hope they understood me when I said “Fuck you both” before turning and running in the opposite direction. I ran so fast, I wanted to hide, to remove myself from the shame I was feeling. Is biting bad if bad was being done to me first? He hurt me, I hurt him. That seems like a fair trade to me, it was self defense. At the end of the alley, I didn't bother turning around as I took the corner to the right.
“GOTCHA!”
I was startled! I didn't see it coming but the noose around my neck tightened as I looked up and saw the familiar wearable fur of the Dog Catcher.
“Aaarrrorrowaaaaghrr! Grrrr! Ruff! Yelp! Aaaaaghororwrr!”
Which translates to: “Owwww you fucker, that hurts! Ooowwww!” In Hooman talk. His grip to the back of my neck hurt and as far as I was concerned, he deserved what came next.
“OOOWWWWW! YOU BIT ME!”
Yes I did! Squirming in a backwards step, I tried to slip free of the noose around my neck.. It was too tight. “You aren't going anywhere! We put Bad Dogs down! Stupid mutt!”
And with that, I was caught. I was going back to a place I had been before. Lockup.
=©=©=©=©=©=©=
“More recently you claimed that Matt Knox was obsessed with you. That he had come into UGWC and had you in his sights but it's funny because not ONCE.. Not a single time can I remember him calling you out. I hear the names of JC, Sebastian, Lucy Wylde or Sloane Taylor. THESE are the names that people hear and know OUTSIDE of the home where you put up your Ikea furniture.
It wasn't until I showed up, came into WrestleStock that I first heard your name.
Now, please, PLEASE don't take this as an insult because I am sure that you have had your head solely buried in the sand of UGWC that you don't know even a QUARTER of the names out there doing big things in plenty of places other than this company.
Even Seb is seeking new places of employment not because he has done all there is to do in UGWC but because there are pastures out there that are of different flavor and not even a DOG wants to eat the same food his entire existence.. What about you? Are you comfortable here?
You should be. You should be in the same way that JC is comfortable here and let me tell you a truth about me. I had no plans to show up in UGWC. I wasn't going to do WrestleStock but then JC opened his big fucking mouth one day on Twitter..
Telling me what I have done in this business didn't matter because I hadn't done it in UGWC. Where his success comes from.. Where he, like you are best known only from here. Where most of your claim to fame can be found within the COMFORT of your surroundings.
In this business, at least for me. Comfortable is for those who seek to become lazy. I will find no comfort here because the deck is stacked against me..
You're a homegrown talent and the moment I signed up for Global Challenge and heard you have won not one but two of them in the past? YOU became a small obsession of mine.. See and unlike Knox, I have waited for this moment. I have hoped for the day it would arrive.. Not because you are known anywhere else, not because you are a multiple time World Heavyweight Champion or the current Cross Hemisphere Champion but because when it comes to Global fucking Challenge under the UGWC banner? YOU are the bar set for everyone else to reach for and I am here to do some pull ups..”
~=~=~=~=~=~
This place was depressing. Whimpers, howls and noises made from a variety of other animals. Just like me, they had been captured and their freedom was taken from them. I didn't belong here but most of the others would probably say the same.
“RRRRUFF! What are you in for?” An overweight and wrinkled bulldog asked me from the cage next to mine. He had a wisdom to his voice like he knew all the best hiding spots to bury a bone.
“I bit the Dog Catcher..” I said with a sigh. Still having the label of ‘Bad Dog’ on my mind, I remembered a friend who bit a Dog Catcher and I never saw him again. I didn't want to disappear. “I was a bad dog..”
“What?! Ruff!” The bulldog says with a rise in excitement as he adjusted and rolled onto all fours. “You hear that? RRRUFF! This guy BIT the Catcher!”
Suddenly the whole place started going crazy. Dogs were howling, the cats could be heard making whatever noise those evil bastards make through the walls. A few cages down, a greyhound was doing laps inside his cage. My stare at him caught the attention of the Bulldog next to me.
“Don't mind him..” Joining me in watching the Greyhound, the Bulldog adds. “He thinks he is a race dog but watch..” Sure enough, within a few seconds, the Greyhound running laps, crashes snout first into the wall of the cage. “We think he has Raabies, but he hasn't been tested.”
“Why is everyone happy I bit the Catcher?” I was stumped by the applause I was receiving. Being praised wasn't something I handled very well.
“Some Hoomans deserve to be bit.” The Bulldog responds before bending at the right angle and gnawing at his boy parts.
“What are you here for? Were you a Bad Dog as well?”
Taking a break from his biting itch, the Bulldog looked up at me with his tongue flopping around. “I kept crapping on the carpet.” He didn't seem bothered by his ‘crime’. “All of us here have a story..”
After the celebration of me biting the Catcher faded, a howl that would wake the dead filled the room of cages. I wanted to see what the fuss was about but the old Bulldog and everyone else proceeded to curl up and pretend to be sleeping. I didn't understand at first.. Not until the doors opened and in walked trouble.
“RRRRUFFF! Guess what, fleabags! I just overheard my partner say that due to funding, a handful of you won't make it through the night!”
A German Shepard with a wearable vest of fur laid over his back strutted down the aisle. His laugh was almost a light rrroarraah of sorts. Very evil.
He seemed like a prick, looked like a prick and.. I smell the air outside the cage after he passed by and yerrp, he smells like a prick as well! I wasn't positive what a prick was or smelled like but I picked up bad habits from Hoomans and other dogs fluent in Hooman. Turning around, the German Shepherd leaves the same way he came in but as he leaves, he gives us a final word, some advice. “Sleep tight.. For some, it will be your last.” And he was gone.
“Who is that?!” I asked as everyone started to come out of their fake napping positions.
“That's Z!”
“Z? Who’s he?” I had seen Dog Catchers before but he seemed different. He was a dog, not a Hooman for starters..
The bulldog tried to explain. “Zaney. He used to be one of us, a stray? He slept in these same cages just like we are now.”
“What happened? Did he find his forever home?” Another term picked up by listening and learning the Hooman language.
“NOTHING IS FOREVER!” The Bulldog snaps at the cage separating us. “He betrayed us all. He wants you to think he’s a dog like we are but..”
“His fur did look extra shiny! I bet he gets taken care of and fed well. I bet he’s a Goooood boy!”
“He pretends to be a dog but he's really just a Catcher on all fours.. He’s NOT one of us!”
The room was lit up by two lights that hung above our heads and they didn't give off much light. If not for the small window at the top of the far wall, we wouldn't know the difference between day and night.
“CAAAW CAAAW!”
The light coming from the window was suddenly cloaked in darkness. Looking, there was a bird standing with its wings opened as the light from behind him gave him a heroic entrance.
“Has Zaney come through yet?” The bird caaaws as he drops down from the window and lands on top of one of the cages. “Oohhh fresh meat!” Flapping his wings, he leaps, glides over and lands on my cage. Looking up, I make eye contact with his blackened bird eyes. “Did you know this is a Kill Shelter, dog breath?”
“What?!”
“Can you smell it? It's in the air! You might take that big L of life!”
“Leave him alone, Knoxxy! He just got here..” The bulldog speaks out to defend me.
“Nobody asked you Tacty dog!” Ruffling his feathers as he hops from the bars on top of the cage. Knoxxy the Raven had some size to him for a bird. “Caaaw CAAW! Special delivery!” Knoxxy proclaims before a glob of white creamy shit falls from his body and into the cage of Tacty the Bulldog. “Mind your business!”
“Say.. Knoxxy?” Tacty smells the bird droppings and part of me expected him to lick it. He didn't. “The new guy here, what's your name again?”
He was talking to me. “DiOGee.” I lifted my neck to show I had a collar with a dog tag but that was from what seemed like another lifetime ago.. Dog years amirite?
“Yeah, DiOGee was saying how before he came in? He watched a Goose with a funny accent talking to that Red Bottomed Squirrel you like.. Ain't that right, DiOGee?”
I had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. “CAAAW CAW!” Knoxxy flapped his wings like he was trying to conjure up hurricane winds. “Not my Amber-booty?! I bet it's that ‘Proper, cheerio’ hoe named Sebbie the Webby Feet!”
The names I was learning today will be forgotten by tomorrow. More so if I end up as one of the dogs that won't be seeing tomorrow. I had to get out of here! “Is this true? You seen her with that Goose?!” Knoxxy asked me with authority coming out of his beak. I improvised.
“Yeah, she’s like my Sister. She said she doesn't like crows..”
“CAAAW CAAAW! I am NOT a Crow!! I am RAVEN, Never/More!” He was frustrated to say the least. Flapping his wings, he got a running start and almost took flight but stopped as he came over another cage. Inside was a Husky, he almost looked like a wolf. “CAAAAW CAAAW! Look at this sad excuse for a fleabag!” For a second time, Knoxxy the Raven turned and dropped off a special delivery as he called it to the Husky. “That's for you Extra!”
“My name is Ezr–” The husky whimpered.
“CAAAAW CAAAAW! Nobody cares!!” Knoxxy takes flight and lands on the window seal. “I’m coming my Ember bootied beauty!”
A silence fell over the room after the bird left. Every dog in here was waiting, that's all we could do. Wait and see if we were one of the dogs who would not see tomorrow. “Am I really going to die?”
=©=©=©=©=©=©=
“This tournament.
Winning it gives an opportunity not for just one of the titles this company has to offer but THE Title that this company has to offer. My wife has held that title. Her ex boyfriend has held that title. You have held that title and currently, your Best Friend, Alan Wallace holds that Championship.
You had to have asked yourself, what if? What if you didn't fall into a hole and go 0-2? What if you had managed to win every match, claw your way to yet another piece of the pie for your own success? You questioned Knox’s motives but what are your own?
Selfishness?
Greed?
Do you NEED the win? No.. But you wanted it didn't you?
There is that feeling of great pride when two friends can share the ring together with everything on the line and how epic that would have been if you hadn't fumbled the ball.. You wanted all of this and it has slowly slipped out of your grasp.
The tournament, the accolades of what can transpire from winning it. You, like everyone else on the UGWC roster might find happiness, even a respect with holding the Cross Hemisphere, Chaos or going on the adventures of being the Conquest Champion but you WANT to be World Champion again..
And yet, I don't want the belt.
I can say that, I’ve said it before in this very tournament. Except now? Seeing how bad Knox wants me to lose so he can have that top spot? Knowing how many people like you, people like Alan, people like Seb, Hastings, or even that bugged eyed witch, Eden Morgan.. Along with many others who have held that title were in part, MADE because of that title?
I have an interest.
Just the simple fact that JC told me what I have done hasn't mattered because I didn't do it here.. That gives me motivation to do what his BIG BITCH ASS hasn't done in his own comfort zone..
I will TAKE it..
I will WEAR it and I will defend it..
I will remove the opportunity from Knox. He is success hungry and a whore willing to do just about anything to achieve it.. Yet his ONE roadblock to that was losing to me. He won't get Larry Tact for an opportunity, he won't see your Best Friend for one either because I prevented that from happening! At best, he gets to rekindle the obsession you THINK he has for you!
So get your circle-jerk of people together. Bring Alan, bring Knox and have them both narrate how this will go. Have them tell you secrets, feed you information to use against me. Have them stroke your faded arrogance of an ego and say that you can win one more match in a tournament you have otherwise failed at.
Come to the ring with your chin held high. Come to the ring with the mindset that you still have something to prove but fully understand that if by CHANCE you win? You open the door for more of this.. More of you versus I and I PROMISE you that isn't attention you want more of..”
~=~=~=~=~=~
“Am I really going to die?” I asked the question but didn't expect an answer. I was kind of just speaking it into the void that we were all facing. The void being an impending death that lingered in all of our minds.. Well except maybe that Greyhound.
“.. Yes.” A voice directly across from me responded. I don't think I noticed this dog before. Hidden at the back of his own cage, he crept forward into the light so I could see him. His eyes low and piercing as his tongue slowly licked around his mouth, he stared back at me. “..Hello, DiOGee..”
Nothing about his tone sounded friendly. Almost immediately I knew that HE was a very Bad Dog. In most dogs, we are born with a sense of danger. Letting us know when something doesn't feel right. It could be the tearful sounds of our Hoomans needing comfort or a hind leg coming to kick you in the ribs. We feel this in our bones. It's why some of us become Service Assistants to Hoomans who can't see or hear.
“It's not my time.. It can't be!” I shuttered under my breath.
“Fan, leave this dog alone!” Tacty the Bulldog chimed in as he and the majority of other dogs locked in kennels curled in that sleep position. They were either tired of waiting or tired of worrying.
“.. But I want to talk to him. He intrigues me..” The more I got to see him, I gained a sense of what kind of dog he was.
“You're one of those long dogs aren't you?” Brown and long bodied, I had run into these dogs a few times. Hoomans called them ‘Wieners’ but most dogs I know had red peckers. I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again, Hoomans are strange.
“He won't make it through the night. He’s bound for the next life..” I turn to see Tacty the Bulldog give me a final comment before he closes his eyes.
“... Yes, I am a Dachshund. We don't really like being called Wieners.” Turning as he spoke, his lengthy body showed in the light better. He was a tiny dog but something told me he had big dog energy. “And you? What breed are you?”
“My Mother was a Pitbull. My Father was named Jack Russell. Weird name for a dog if you ask me..”
I thought about that a lot. How that worked. My Mother was a stocky dog and my Father? Well, I never knew him but I’ve seen other dogs of the same breed. Small dogs.
“... A unique mix, indeed..” The wiener dog named ‘Fan’ said with a drag to his every word. “I like it!”
Not that his intrigue interested me any. My tail wagged as if he had called me a Good Boy. Maybe if we both survive the night, he will become a friend. I didn't have many of those.
“What are you in for?” I ask because that seemed to be a common question in a place like this. I wasn't sure if I was interested or just trying to kill time but I anticipated the unknown he was about to reveal to me. “I bit someone..” I added.
“.. So I heard..” The Dachshund flopped down onto the floor of his cell. “I bit someone as well..”
He had my attention. Maybe I wasn't alone in my guilt of biting a Hooman. “You did?!”
“.. Yes. I did.” He didn't have any emotion in his voice. A dragging baseline filled with an emptiness but there was something more to his voice. Something that felt familiar but to an extreme. Pain and sorrow.
“...I belonged to a family. Since I can remember, I was Danny Boy Winston. A family name. I was part of a Family..”
Looking around, I couldn't believe that every other dog was sound asleep. Had they heard this story? It was a nice distraction to have at a time like this.
“.. I was a Proud member of that Family. Having Hoomans was the best part of life for a long while..”
“What happened?” I asked as I laid down, curled up and got as comfortable as I could be.
“.. They call me ‘Fan’ because of why I am here. You know those metal things that spin around and blow air?”
Nodding, I added a vocal response as well. The lights were dim, the day was creeping into night. “Yeah?”
“I would open my mouth in front of them and all the smells and taste in the air would fill my mouth. It was a favorite pastime of mine.” He let the words settle for a moment. I knew exactly what he meant. I preferred chewing on socks but to each their own. “.. I had a Mother, a Father and a Brother.. His name was Jason.” His head lays over his extended front legs. The Fan dog was focused on his Hooman Brother. “He was 7 in Hooman years.” A baby in comparison to a Dog’s life.
“That sounds nice, did he give you belly rubs?” I got excited as my tail leaped around. Part of me had the urge to spin around in a circle but I didn't really have the room to do so and I didn't want to get up.
“The best ones.. But..” Slowly, his eyes close and open. “I was sitting in front of the air blower, catching air.. and.. Jason stepped on my tail!”
Whimpering, I knew that feeling and it hurt. Still, I listened.
“.. Something happened. I cried, spun around, leaped up and sunk my teeth into his side.” Letting out a faint whimper, he was going over the memory. Before telling more, the Wiener dog named ‘Fan’ slowly pushed up onto all fours. “.. I loved that Hooman and I bit into him and.. I couldn't stop.”
My eyes opened so wide that I should have seen more of the room.
“I kept biting. I tasted his blood and.. It was a delight! I wanted more so I kept biting!! RUFF RUFF!” He had a reaction of joy. The first expression of emotion other than his lingering dread that carried in his voice.
A few of the dogs jolted awake. Pretty sure the Greyhound farted but he jumped up and started running laps again. It made a ton more noise at night than it did earlier. “Shhhh! You're going to wake Z!” Tacty the Bulldog growls.
It was too late. Through the doors came a bolting German Shepherd. “Ggrrrrrr RUFF RUFF What's going on in here?!”
We all went quiet. Making eye contact with him, Zaney barks at me with a growl that follows behind it. “What are you looking at?! Go to sleep! It won't be long now!” Some dogs can smile and Zaney flashed me one as he passed by and exited the room. All the lights shut down soon after he left. We sat in complete darkness.
“... See you tomorrow, DiOGee.” Fan dog said and his voice was even more eerie in the dark. “I feel like we bonded and I want to be friends..”
I dared not respond. It took a while but eventually, I fell asleep.
=©=©=©=©=©=©=
“You’ve talked a lot about putting respect into this tournament. The Titles that are sitting at the finish line or the history of this company. That respect you want people to have isn't something that is given before it is earned!
I will be DAMNED if I come into this company or the next and think because I took a booking or a payday that it has earned any respect. You want my respect, take it inside the ring. You want me to put respect on this tournament and the history of it? Why, because you’ve won it a few times?
That's not how that works, at least not with me. Look at other companies. IWF, TPW, WGWF, Triad, or XWF! These companies have history, they have titles but all of them outside of TPW and XWF, I have no respect for. Not their histories or the paper weights that they drag around claiming to be true Championships. I respect the history in which I want to be a part of and not just because it's popular or the members demand it to be respected. To me, history is best left in the past where the current day will be buried tomorrow.
Honestly, when I first showed up in UGWC for WrestleStock last year. I had no respect. Not for the company, the history or the Titles that other people were claiming mattered because until you are defending it against me, why SHOULD it matter to me?
The thing is..
That outlook has changed. Not because I’ve won a few matches. Not because I am ONE win away from getting Larry Tact inside of a UGWC ring for the second time in the second event I have shown up for but because other than Raabies, Konrad or the Lord, I have been tested and challenged every time I have stepped foot inside the ring with four initials..
From WrestleStock to Global Challenge, I have taken the tests of strength that this roster has provided and I simply crave more!
Will you offer me another challenge on a Global scale or will you be a victim found lying on the floor of your own home because you couldn't STOP the intruder who climbed in through the window and TOOK what you hold of value?
You WON'T be Global Challenge winner for the third time and your opportunity to try and become a FOUR time UGWC World Heavyweight Champion has all but ended, at least now, at least when it comes to THIS moment and THIS tournament.
Tell Knox that you have FAILED him because he is going to be soooooo disappointed WHEN I beat you..”
~=~=~=~=~=~
Ohhhh my head! Before my eyes even open, my head was pounding like an alarm was going off. As a dog, I wasn't sure what the proper term was for it but my head had some aching to it as I rose up from my nap. Trying to stretch out on the inside of a cage. It doesn't go well for medium to large dogs. I could have forgotten where I was from the throbbing in my head.
Then I remembered.
Snapping around, I looked from cage to cage. To see who was still there and who had been taken away. The Greyhound was gone. The poodle that sat off by themselves was as well. Even that Husky, Extra? He was missing. Looking next to me, Tacty the Bulldog was on his back, nuts hanging off to the side and sprawled out.
“CAAAW CAAAW!! What's up, hoes!?” It was Knoxxy the Raven again. Taking a gander over the layout, he swoops in and lands directly over my cage. “You.. You lied to me!”
“I did?” My eyes tingled from the light. Adding to my brain pains, I couldn't be sure which part was a lie.
“She's not really your Sister, is she?”
The long stare I must have given him. “The squirrel? Same Father..” I lied again. He was a bird, I would totally kick his ass in a one on one situation.
“I like you.. I don't know why but I do.. Part of me also hopes Zaney gets you. Just destroys you and I would also like that as well. I’m torn right now.. CAAAW CAAW!”
“We lost a few overnight. Leave him be..” Tacty the Bulldog barks softly. He was just getting up.
“CAAAW CAAAW! I’ll pluck your eyes out!”
Tacty wasn't having it. Jumping up, he knocked into the ceiling of the cage. Knoxxy leaped up and kept himself in the air with the flapping of his wings. While they caaw’d and barked at each other, I got the sensation to look across from where I was. To see if ‘Fan’ dog was still with us.
“... Hello, DiOGee..” He was there. I wasn't sure if I was grateful or disappointed. “Did you think they took me as well?”
“I–” My groaning bark was cut short as everyone went quiet. Knoxxy landed up on the window seal but kept a bird's eye view as a few voices could be heard.
“We want something that won't die. Something sturdy, you know?” It was a Hooman female. Sounded a bit older. What did she want and why did everyone in the room care?
“Like a Lobster!!” Another much younger sounding Hooman female shouted.
“Sloaney, you slo-slo.. Do we have a Lobster door? No. We have a dog door! We’re getting a dog!”
What was going on, I wondered. Tacty was the only one not fully invested in the Hoomans. He was busy having a morning bath and he was snout deep in his netherland regions. That must be filthy, he was tending to it the night before as well!
Turning to the sound of a cage squeal. I find that the ‘Fan’ dog has somehow unlocked the gate of his cell. “What are you doing?!” I tried to keep my howled voice low.
“... I want to come and visit you..” I wasn't sure he could say anything without it sounding creepy. I wasn’t scared of those big explosions in the sky that happened once a few times a year but this dog? This wiener named ‘Fan’? He was creepy. I shook like I had fleas.
“You should stay where you belong. There's no room in here for you!” I tried to explain but he crept from his cage to mine. In seconds, he had my gate unlocked. I lowered, ready to attack but a familiar voice spoke out and took both of our attention. It came from the room outside of the doors. I had no idea what was out there but it felt close.
“The kennels are back this way..” The voice of the Hooman Catcher spoke. Was he sending for another round of dogs to put down?! I was twitching but I knew it wasn't like when I ate that batch of brownies once.. They were not regular brownies.
“Go.. Pick someone out..” The older Hooman female spoke out. It seemed like forever with no other voice barking. Hooman or dog. The anticipation was thick in the room as we waited to see what would happen next.
“Hello..?” A young one comes through the doors. Not a speck of aggression about her. “HELLO? Are there any animals in here?!”
My eyes were locked on the wiener dog named ‘Fan’ as he pulled the gate on his cage closed as was back where he belonged. It was at that moment that his story played in my mind. How he enjoyed biting his own Hooman and how this little Hooman female was right there for the pickings.
I made a choice.
Barreling out of my cage, I stumble and flop onto the floor. The little girl froze with her blue eyes, big and beautiful locked onto me. “Hi..” She said with hesitation.
I let my eyes glance over at the ‘Fan’ dog before turning back to her stare. “... Hhhaaarr?” I tried to speak the language so she would understand. I was feeling like my choice was another bad one. I was a bad dog after all, or so they say but then.. She smiled.. I ran at her and her arms fell around me.
.
..
…
“I found one!” The little Hooman female steps aside and I was cowering as I placed eyes on the Catcher that threatened to hurt me. Zaney, the German Shepherd stood up with his chest out. ”I choose him!”
“He’s unavailable, he is designated for euthanasia this afternoon. He bit me yesterday.. He’s a bad dog!”
Scolding me with his eyes, I wasn't able to cower any lower. I expected a beating. “I liiiiiiike him! Come here, boy!”
“Sloaney, you really want him? That's the one?” The older Hooman female asks.
“Yerrp!” Little Sloaney doubles down on her choice.
Sighing. “Fine, let's sign the papers. How much?”
“Noooo!” Little Sloaney shouts as she rudely stops scratching behind my ears. Hurrying over to her Hooman, Sloaney tugs on the arm part of her wearable fur. The older Hooman leans down as Sloaney whispers to her. “Let me borrow the money, he’s mine. I want to adopt him!”
Was I a Bad Dog? Maybe but now I was one that had a Home..
