Cold. It’s so cold. All the warmth is leaking out of me, dripping out onto the ground. I’m so tired. I’ve not slept for days and my legs are so weak. I can barely stand, barely take another step. Just one more step, I have to take one more step. I have to get somewhere, anywhere, before I’m buried alive in this snow. I can’t, my legs give out. I collapse, more than ever I can feel the heat bleeding out from me. As my consciousness fades, I can’t help but feel relief. I will finally be at rest.

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Where am I? It’s…warm. So warm, and…bandages? Yes, I’ve been bandaged. I’m still in my dog form. Larger than the average dog by far, this from is quite reminiscent of a wolf-dog. So much so, I’ve been shot at by many humans and left to bleed out on more than one occasion. Never, though, had I been so close to death as I just had been. I never expected any kindness from humans, they hate me. Both in this form and if they came to know what I truly am. How then, did I come to be bandaged and warm in what looks to be a human home. Is that food? Dog food, yes. It may not taste good, but it fills my stomach well enough. That feeling, of a full stomach, is one I’ve not felt in quite a while.

Human! There’s a human in the room, and he’s noticed that I’ve been awake. She’s coming closer, oh no. She’s right in front of me, and she’s raising her hand to strike. I brace myself for the blow, mind racing, looking for an exit. No use, I’m still too weak to even stand. I’ll have to endure the whims of this human until I can make my way out. Knowing human brutality, that opportunity may never appear.

She does not strike. Instead, she places her hand between my ears. She runs her fingers through my corse black fur, it feels…nice. Nicer than the strike I had anticipated to be sure, but I’ve never felt anything this this. Maybe I won’t be so quick to leave.

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My human, who I’ve come to know as Emily, has brought home a man. I hate this man, he smells of anger, of lust. None of the kindness or compassion that Emily deserves. I quickly get between her and him, bearing my fangs and raising my hackles. I do this to scare him off, and to let Emily know of the danger. She does not understand, dragging me by the collar and shutting me in the kennel.

The collar and the kennel, the only downsides to my life with Emily. I bear the humiliation only because of her kindness, because of the food, shelter, and because I have nowhere else to go. If I left, which I could, I’d be out on the streets again, a fate which I’d do anything to avoid.

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For the past few weeks, Emily has brought that man, whose name is Randy, over more and more. As such, I’ve been confined to the kennel in equal measure. I’ve been playing calm, hoping to earn back her trust. She’s been quite cold to me since she first met Randy, I suspect she resents me for making him nervous.

He hit her, he actually hit her.

A week ago, Emily and Randy decided that exposer would be the best approach. I allowed his greasy fingers to touch my fur, it disgusted me, yet I couldn’t protect Emily if I was shut in the kennel.

Today, when Randy arrived, he stunk of alcohol. He he unloaded on her, ranting and raving about his job as a mechanic. Emily, for her part, listened intently, she truly is a kind soul. Her phone, which was laid sitting out on the coffee table, lit up with a text from her cousin Aaron. Randy exploded, screaming at her for talking to another man. He then raised his fist, and struck straight in her face.

I. See. Red

I leap up and knock him to the ground, and rip out his throat. The blood is warm in my mouth, tasting of iron. Emily screams, and I turn toward her, eliciting more screaming. I jump again, catching the door handle in my paws, prying the door slightly open. From there, I used my snout to open the door fully. I bolt.

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I wash the blood off in a stream, regret stirring in my gut. Randy was a scumbag and I did what I had to to protect Emily, but I should have let her handle him. Now she probably hates me, now I’ll have to go back to living on the streets. Tears well up in my eyes, I can’t bear the thought of another night out in the cold, not after I’d been happy for so long.

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I am brought from my rue when a car passes on the road above the river where I lay. I recognize the vehicle as belonging to Emily, and there can only be one place where she is going; her favorite bar.

A plan takes shape in my head.

I stroll up to the bar in human form. I wear a set of baggy, ill fitting clothes, stolen from an empty home. In the pocket of my jeans, there is a wallet with around on hundred dollars, also stolen.

I find her sitting alone, sipping on a pint of ale. I take a stool a few places down from her and order a drink for myself. I didn’t plan this far ahead.

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One of my buddies back home forged me some documents, so now I’ve got myself a driver’s license. I’ve used that to get myself a job at a gas station, it’s not fun, but I’ve got enough money now to eat real food. I’m still sleeping under that bridge, but it’s not so bad now that I have something to look forward to. I meet Emily for drinks every Saturday, it’s nice to get to know her as a person, rather than her pet. I’m probably going to have to tell her who I am someday, but I plan to stall for as long as I can.