Stray Dogs
#1 of Brainchilds
Ehh... Noting much to say here.
What does it truly means to die? Is it being recreated into a new world, a new life? Is it the end, or is it a beginning? Is all of this really worth it for the mystery at the end? I ask myself constantly as to what it's purpose is, even as I stare at my own reflection. My eyes are now a dull emerald, much different from the bright, energetic green I was used to. My fur was matted in places, and stuck up in no-longer fluffy tufts across my body. The peppered markings across my chest, paws, ear tips, and right eye that stood in contrast to the off-white fur coating me were tinged in dirt and muck. I let out a deep sigh, tearing my eyes away from someone I didn't know anymore.
Another patron of the restaurant whose bathroom I've occupied steps in, and I follow out, my tattered coat almost getting caught in the doorway. I couldn't stand people seeing me like this, and I didn't want to ruin the family business's name by allowing them to notice the grimy homeless dog that passed through it's doors every few days to allow myself the luxury of free water. The older couple that ran the restaurant were kind enough to allow me to use it freely, at least.
As I stepped through the exit, the cold, November air hit me through the patchwork holes across m clothing, and a barrage of noises hit my ears. It was such a drastic opposite to the calm, relaxed atmosphere of the establishment, that I stood there for a moment, allowing my body to adjust. After a minute or two, I turned, heading to 'home' if it could even be called such. It was a hole in between two tall, glistening buildings that stood proudly next to each other in the growing almost-noon sunlight, oblivious to my, and all others' presence.
I settled into my spot at the corner, the moth-eaten blanket below me the only comfort from the concrete. After about an hour of moving my small collection of trash-pillaged keepsakes around to various locations, I sighed. Boredom was becoming more of a menace than the cold, nowadays. I stood, dusting off the seat of my pants and wiping my tail as best as I could.
As I dove my hand into my usable pocket, I grabbed the measly palm of change I had left. After counting it, I pondered what I could possibly buy with a simple 1.35, not counting the small array of pennies I sorted to the side. I had a small mayonnaise jar that I kept all the pennies I have collected inside. When there's nothing else to do, I count it all out again. It's scary how many times I have been able to do it, really...
I shook my head, ridding myself of my distracting thought. I had a task to do, and my stomach made sure to remind me of such. I began the trek to the local grocery store, my untrimmed nail clacking against the asphalt as I step. I keep my head down, though I can easily feel the stares of the people that pass y. Hell, if I were in their position, I give myself the most disgusting look of all. When you're on the top, falling down doesn't exactly occur to your thoughts.
I lowered my head and pressed my ears back, focusing on the building in the distance. It was dinner time for the first time in... three days? It's hard to tell. My eyes watched my grey-looking paws as they took step after step after step. I was almost there--
"Oomph!" I hit something, propelling my rear end into the hard ground. From the thud I heard, someone suffered the same issue. An ache ran through my butt and my tail, and I groaned, rubbing my hip. That hurt like a mother-trucker!
"Sir? Are you alright?" I looked up, and my eyes locked with a pair of bright, sapphire blues. The kneeling German Shepard looked me over, features etched in concern. His black suit showed off the rippling muscles he surely held beneath, and his face was practically godly. I had to resist the urge to drool as I nodded dumbly.
"Y-Yeah. I';m fine. It was my fault for not paying attention." I blush, practically tearing my eyes from the handsome man in front of me as he stands. What? I can't help myself from practically eye-raping the poor fellow.
The Shepard shook his head, holding his paw out to help me up. "Please, that was more my fault than yours. I was spacing out just as much." He offered an eye-dazzling smile towards me and I almost melted.
Boy, this guy has got me good!
I chuckle in return, taking the paw and mentally cursing the dirt that covered it as he hoists me upright. I drop his paw as soon as I feel steady enough to stand. He nods lightly as a goodbye, and he's off, walking past me with a strut in his step. I take my own step forward, only to be stopped by the sound of metal rubbing together under my paws. The money! I gasped, dropping down yet again to gather up the change that had fallen with me. I couldn't lose it!
I picked up dime after nickle after quarter, then my eyes grazed something that was definitely not stingy pocket change. It was a full-on, leather-designed, polished to perfection wallet. It had to have been the mystery Shepard...
I was curious to who he was, and even more so how many meals I could get out of the green bill peeking slightly from the open edge. I could probably afford a cheap motel with that... I eyed the bills hungrily, though tore my needy eyes away. I swore I wouldn't stoop to theft, and I'd keep on the promise... mostly. I sure he won't notice the ten I slipped away before shoving it deep into my usable pocket.
I pick myself up, the grin never off my muzzle. Today will be a feast, curtosy of clumsiness. I knew it'd help me eventually!