The Deaf Dog

Shayla padded through the leaf-strewn forest, searching for shelter for the night. She had been searching all day for the perfect place for her to sleep and feast on her evening meal, but had no luck. Shalya's whiskers twitched as gunfire and dog howling boomed in the distance. Her fur stood on end, her muscles tensed, which prepared her to sprint if a dog or hunter popped out behind the bushes. She spotted movement in the trees ahead of her, and she was nearly blinded because of the setting sun. Dinner! She thought hungrily, when suddenly Shayla heard leaves crunch behind her. She quickly twisted around and her tail pricked up.

Ten feet in front of her was the biggest, buffest dog she had ever seen. Shayla unsheathed her claws and prepared to run. But to her surprise, the dog was whining, looking around him, disoriented, like a puppy that had just opened its eyes. The hound pathetically stumbled toward her, which showed no threat. Shayla carefully stalked up to the dog and it sat down and pointed to its ears, and whined impatiently, "h-hear...I-- can't-hear."

Shayla gestured for him to lie down, and he did, and Shayla climbed up his muscular body and lifted his giant, floppy ear, and found that he couldn't hear because both ears were stuffed with...mud! She was about to tell him what to do, when a human started shouting, the sound continuously getting closer. To the sound of its voice, the dog jerked his head up and looked at Shayla with pure dread--It's owner. This dog was a hunting dog! "It's okay, I'll get your ears cleaned..." The dog wriggled his nose, "...and your nose, I guess?" At that, the dog bounded after Shayla as she sprinted toward the nearest river. After she cleaned the dog's ears and nose, the dog broke towards the shouting.

Later that night, Shayla was surveying the walls of a barn when iron bars suddenly enveloped her. She arched her back and hissed at the man grinning triumphantly at his catch. She was brought to a porch, and the man held a gun, pointed straight at her head. He muttered something behind his back, and a pack of five giant dogs jumped to the entrances of the porch with murderous looks in their eyes and snarled, slobber falling from their mouths, and gnashing their teeth. Even if Shayla could pass the man with the rifle alive, there was no way she would make it past the dogs without tuning into ground-cat-meat. The man shouted an order and opened the cage, which probably meant, "KILL THAT CAT!!!!" Because all the dogs started bounding toward her.

Just when Shayla thought she was done for, one of the dogs hesitated. It then ran faster than the others and met Shayla before any of the others. To her surprise, the black dog just stood in front of the cage, and defended her like a badger guarding its burrow. The man shouted at the dog, but the dog didn't budge. He lowered his gun and called for the pack to follow him, but the dog just sat down and looked at Shayla. It was the dog that She had helped! He moved away from the cage and allowed Shayla to escape, and as she padded out of the cage she said, "I seriously owe you one."

The dog only replied, "You already did. You saved my life. My owner would have killed me if he found I couldn't hunt anymore." Shayla felt truly grateful for the good deed that the dog had given her, and at the same time, grateful for what she had done for the dog.

"What's your name, dog?" Shayla asked as she made her way out to the forest.

"Bone."

"Thank you for saving my life, really."

"Those dogs don't ever dare touch me. Now, go find your home. I recently chased a bird out of a hole in a tree. There's plenty of mice around that area. You can live there."

Shayla thanked him once more and ran away into the forest, smiling to herself. "Doing good to others really will bring good to you, won't it?" and with that, bounded toward the tree.