Modern Countrymen

the Bear

Caden McGuire stared into the bathroom mirror, eyes bleary and bloodshot, his reflection a cruel reminder of how far he'd let himself go. A thick beard framed his rounded face, and a belly hung over the waistband of his jeans—a stark contrast to the high school football star he used to be. Back then, they called him "The Bear" for his size and strength. Now, it seemed like the nickname stuck for a different reason. The weight gain had snuck up on him, pound by pound, until it was too late to turn back.

And then, it happened. She left.

Christen, the girl he'd dated since senior year, walked out, her sharp words still echoing in his head. "You've just... stopped trying, Cade. I'm sorry." Her apology sounded hollow as she left him to be with one of his old highschool friends, someone who hadn't let himself go, someone who could still fit into his old football jersey.

It wasn't just the breakup that broke him—it was the humiliation. Everyone knew. Social media was a curse and a crutch; he'd built a modest following with the other guys in the group, sharing their country lifestyle and antics, but it felt like everyone was looking at him differently now. Even his best friend, Mason, had been at a loss for words at first, finally offering advice that stuck with Caden. "Get a pet, man. I'm sure it'll be good for you."

So, he did. He found Diesel—a white Labrador pup with eyes full of life, something he desperately needed in his dull, empty world. From the moment he laid eyes on her at the shelter, Caden knew he had to have her. He didn't care about the adoption fee; he just needed to take her home. Diesel, he thought, would be a good, strong name. He figured his followers wouldn't need to know she was a girl—no one needed to know how deeply she was filling a hole he hadn't even known was there.

At first, things were just normal—if there was such a thing anymore. Diesel gave him a reason to get out of bed in the morning, to leave the house, to smile. When she wagged her tail, it felt like a lifeline, like she was the only one in the world who saw him as something more than a mess. Her soft fur and warm tongue when she would lick his beard became his only comfort, her little gestures of affection the only source of validation he had.

But then, things began to shift. It started small—lingering kisses to his face that felt more intimate than they should have. When he kissed her back, she licked his lips, and it felt like she was kissing him too. Caden's grip on reality grew fuzzy, and in the quiet hours of the night, when it was just the two of them lying in bed, he began to imagine that Diesel understood him, that she was the only one who truly wanted him, even in his current state.

Diesel slept beside him, her small body tucked against his belly in a spooning position, like Sarah used to do. The first time he woke up with morning wood pressed against her, he felt a jolt of guilt but dismissed it as an accident. But as the days went by, and his mind sank further into the dark abyss of his despair, those thoughts returned, fueled by his delusions and fueled by Diesel's presence as his only source of companionship.

One night, after downing a few too many beers, the boundaries between affection and something else entirely blurred. He kissed Diesel more than just a playful peck. His hands wandered, fueled by a toxic mix of loneliness and lust, until the line between man and animal was shattered.

Diesel initially resisted, pulling back and whining, but the sound faded into quiet acceptance as he whispered to her while deep inside her, as if to reassure them both. In his twisted state of mind, it was almost like she understood, like she gave in because she loved him too.

The next morning, Caden awoke with a pounding headache and a nauseating realization as he found himself still inside Diesel. The sight of her sleeping beside him, her breathing calm and steady all the while taking him so effortlessly, twisted his stomach into knots. He backed away from her, slowly removing himself from her insides, the full weight of what he had done settling over him like a suffocating blanket.

He stumbled out of bed, his mind racing as he tried to make sense of it all. His only thought was to avoid scaring her, to act like nothing had happened, but deep down, he knew there was no going back to what he was before. 

The days following that night were a blur of guilt and confusion for Caden. Each time he looked at Diesel, he saw a reminder of what he had done. He tried to distance himself at first—kept their interactions to feeding, short walks, and the occasional game of fetch. But the distance only seemed to confuse Diesel. She'd tilt her head, look at him with those big brown eyes, and nuzzle closer, almost as if sensing his unease and wanting to comfort him.

Caden was trying to keep it together, to forget the fateful night, but Diesel wouldn't let him. She seemed to cling to him even more than before, as though she felt the change in their dynamic and welcomed it. The kisses she gave weren't just playful licks anymore—they lingered, her tongue tracing his lips as though inviting him to reciprocate. It was subtle, but he noticed how she began to back up into him during their usual nightly cuddles, pressing her warm body against him as if seeking more than just a cuddle. It stirred something in him, an unsettling mix of shame and longing that he couldn't shake.

He woke up each morning with the familiar tightness between his legs, but now it wasn't just an embarrassing inconvenience. It was a routine, a sign that Diesel was already there, sometimes licking at it through the covers, as if trying to "help." Caden was caught between pushing her away and pulling her closer, his rational thoughts waging war with the delusions that were creeping back, stronger and more convincing than ever.

"This is just Diesel's way of showing she loves me," he tried to tell himself. "She understands." He repeated the lie so many times that it began to feel like the truth. Diesel seemed to know when he was slipping, sensing his moments of weakness, and would press against him with a neediness that mirrored his own. It was the kind of affection he'd craved since Christen left, the kind he thought he'd never feel again.

Little by little, Caden stopped resisting. He let Diesel sleep closer, let her kisses linger longer. When she licked his morning wood in the mornings, he began to let her, under the covers now. The resentment he felt towards himself seemed to fade with each passing day, replaced by a dark acceptance that he'd found something in Diesel that no one else could give him. The idea that she was the only one who truly loved him became a twisted comfort.

Their relationship crossed more boundaries after that, but it didn't feel like crossing a line anymore—it felt like the natural progression of what had already begun. Caden's need for Diesel's companionship, for the validation she gave him, grew stronger, and in his mind, she wasn't just a dog anymore. She was his partner, the only one who could understand the broken man he'd become.

And so, their new normal took hold, slipping further into a reality that Caden didn't want to escape from, while keeping the lines blurred enough to leave the question unanswered: was this his choice, or was it Diesel leading the way?