Savage?

Seven

As the time I spent awake began to outnumber the time I spent sleeping, yet another hate grew inside me. I found myself in about a 30 square foot enclosure, with bowls containing my food in water and a doghouse with a soft pillow. Sure, the grass was an okay change, but I absolutely detested the small space. I was used to having my run of the place, and just the notion that they penned me infuriated me.

As far as collateral damage, the fight with the Mastiff had left my face marred. When I ran my tongue across my lip I could feel a long scar from the bottom of my jawbone, running to the side of my mouth. As a fighting dog, scars were my badges of honor, so I wore it proudly.

My existence at the farm was most often pestered by a medium sized collie-like dog that as far as I could tell was called Hush. She had a very loud mouth, and would bark at me nonstop. She made a game of coming to the fence and yapping at me until I rushed, snarling and hackles raised. I itched to get out and shred her, but the fence held me back. Whenever I did this, Hush would hop back from the fence and dance joyfully. After a few minutes she would begin yapping again, and usually at that point someone would open the door from the house a few yards away and yell "Hush!".

The time I spent there was boring and most of it was just a blur. I remember snippets, like the man trying to touch me, and me biting his hand. Or when I killed a chicken that slipped into my pen. That was a fun little chase. I was happy to eat something other than the tasteless kibble I was regularly given.

Then one day, I remember the way I felt. Stronger than I had been. I felt revitalized. The man must have noticed it too. He came to the pen, and pressed down on a small lever I hadn't noticed before. The gate snapped open, and the way to freedom was clear. I shot out, my legs stretched out for the first time, well, ever. Before I had had no use for running, in the tight dark halls of my home. And here I had been in a pen not worth lapping around. My fur was very short, but I still loved the way it felt. I trotted to a stop and looked back at the man. He was going back in the house, this must have been his intention.

A trotted around the side of the large house, trying to get feel for the place, when a familiar bark caused my ears to flatten and a malicious glare in my eyes. I turned around slowly and saw the stupid collie mutt. Hush wagged her tail and ran forward, probably wanting to play chase or something. She pranced right to my side and barked. I wasted no time. I launched myself at her, all sixty-five pounds of orangish fur filled with disdain. She shrieked as my teeth ripped open her shoulder. Fear clouded her eyes and she reacted by trying to inflict pain on me. Funny thing is, if she had turned tail and run, screaming bloody murder, she would have attracted attention from the house and probably saved her stupid ass. But no, I doubt she was intelligent enough for that.

It was easy to basically ignore her weak, poorly placed strikes as I bloodied her coat. I headbutted her to the ground and stood over her, tearing at her stomach , not just wanting to kill her, but to inflict as much pain as I could. She was basically crying at this point, her yelps and whimpers losing power. Finally, now that tuffs of her fur were everywhere and her blood and guts littered the ground, I looked into her eyes, to see the pitifulness of the creature that laid before me. I reached down and ripped out her throat, her dark blood pooling at my paws.

I just stood there, my body shaking with power. It felt so good to kill again. I remembered the chicken then, and trotted towards the sound of clucking, leaving the dead Hush behind me. As I approached the coop, the feathered rodents started making such a ruckus, that I heard the side door swing open and I heard the high-pitched voice of the skinny lady. "Get away from theya!" She cried.

As I turned around I must have looked frightening, my muzzle covered in blood and my eyes narrowed, because she screamed for Bill. When he came to the door she melted into him, weeping. What a pathetic thing, just like Hush.

Bill set her down on the wooden porch swing beside them before looking around, and then back at me. He scanned me, and then his eyes followed the bloody trail around to the side of the house. He set off at a dead run, feet hitting the ground heavily. He made an astonished squeak as he came across the remains of his collie. "Damn dog!" He thundered, coming back towards me. His hand was still bandaged from when I bit it. I rolled my shoulders, preparing to fight. Killing him wouldn't be that hard.

As if sensing my intentions he turned towards the house. "Carrie! Get my shotgun!"

The woman's eyes widened. "You gonna shoot her?" She sobbed.

"She killed Bella." Bill snarled.

Carrie sobbed again and shakily ran into the house.

I guess I had some sense of my impending doom, because I turned tail and ran into the woods. I ran for about an hour until I was sure I wasn't followed. Then I looked around, trying to gain a sense of where I was, where my home with Master was. I looked to the north, and something just felt right, so I loped in that direction, unknowingly furthering the gap between the compound where I was born, to the south.