Angel crouched, completely hidden in the undergrowth. A large lanky hare groomed itself with small dusty-brown paws. Every few
moments, long keen ears would flick in her direction, listening for a faint crackle of the underbrush, a quick hurried breath. Lean, hard muscles were coiled, prepared to flee at the sight of a predator. Angel licked her jaws, ignoring the faint rumble of hunger in her stomach. Her hunger would soon be satisfied.
The hare was peering suspiciously into the undergrowth, searching for a flash of grey, or perhaps the glint of unsheathed claws. Not so. Angel sprang from her hiding place with a feral snarl, the hare turning and leaping away wildly, trying desperately to escape its fate. Distance was swallowed with each bound, the hare's leaps growing longer and stronger with each stride. But Angel was clever. She matched the hare's speed and agility, blocking every possible escape and cutting off the by-paths. Not a kill had ever escaped from her, and if it had, she had tracked it down, becoming a relentless huntress who wouldn't stop until a warm furry carcass lay nestled in her jaws.
Her large grey paws barely touched the earth as she followed her prey, her warm breath flattening the fur on the hare's heels. She sprang, ignoring the hare's shriek of pain as she caught him in her jaws. She clamped her jaws firmly on the hare's throat, feeling the pulse of life coursing through its being fade. A sense of pride coursed through her. The thrill of the chase, the pump of adrenaline, the sense of self-accomplishment that came with bringing down a kill, that was always a perfect way to start the day.
Angel placed her kill between her paws, stripping off pieces of meat. She finished it in a few quick wolfish bites, selected a bone from the ribcage, and wrenched it off. With a well-placed snap of the jaws, she cracked open the bone and began to suck on the marrow. It was cold, thick, and juicy, just the way she liked it. She stretched her jaws in a yawn, revealing gleaming white fangs. Angel liked knowing she could take care of herself. She could run away if she wanted to, be free like she used to. But no, she choose to stay. The girl needed her. Why? Angel didn't know just yet. She knew though, that it was vitally important she stay.
She turned back to the remains of her kill. All that remained was a few scarce bones with a strip or two of meat left, which would satisfy the scavengers. She had stripped the hide off first and set it aside, careful to do it correctly. That seemed to be the only part of an animal humans valued, so she was always too careful to save it. Humans. Always so wasteful. They threw away the whole animal after they got what they wanted, instead of using every part to its full potential.
She heard the sharp shrill call of the whistle. In a moment she was on her paws, gently carrying the hide in her jaws. She spun around, bounding across the meadow. She hesitated a moment at the river, then plunged right in, water seeping in through her thick white fur. She scrambled onto the sandy banks, not bothering to shake the water from her fur.
Pausing at her master's feet, she humbly set the hide down, keeping her ears flattened and her tail tucked. This was the tradition of her ancestors to respect and acknowledge the Alpha's status. Pleasure rippled across her as her owner scratched her on top of the head, and in that special place she like. She thumped her tail against the ground, panting heavily from her run.
...
I picked up the hide that Angel had dropped at my feet, examining it. It was still fresh, even a bit warm to the touch. She must have killed a few minutes ago. I took a dog treat out of my pocket and slipped it to her. She snapped it up instantly, devouring it in a matter of seconds. That dog was always hungry. Tanner said not to feed her too often, but this was a reward. I smiled as I felt her rub her head against my leg.
I felt my phone vibrate in my back pocket. Whipping it out instantly, I quickly read the text that popped up on the screen:
Hey baby. Want 2 go on a date 2night? Pick you up at 8, k?
I flicked a glance at the house. Tanner hated it when my boyfriends came over. Actually, he just full-out hated my boyfriends. I've learned to keep it a secret. Only God knows how many times he's paid them to dump me. But Tanner wasn't going to be here tonight. He was going to go on the weekly trip to the city to get groceries and other things we needed. Yippee. Score One for Lydia. I texted back.
Sure. I'll be waiting.
I looked over at Angel, a devilish grin on my face. "You won't tell, won't you Angel?" And I know dogs aren't supposed to smile, but I could have sworn Angel was grinning then, the way her tongue was hanging out and the carefree, lazy look in her eyes. She gave a bark of approval, leaping up onto her hind legs and slapping her paws together. I gave a chuckle; I had taught her to do that a few days after we had gotten her. We had had her for about a week now.
That reminded me. I drew out a large black leather collar with a small silver charm hanging from it. The charm was a wolf, with its head tilted back in a howl. It reminded me of Angel. I slipped the collar around her neck, buckling it tightly. In the back of the charm it had Property of Lydia C. Thompson. Now it was official. Angel was officially my dog. I stepped back and smiled, flipping open my compact so Angel could see her reflection.
Angel stepped back, turning her head so that she could see herself at different angles. Finally she gave a short bark of pleasure and planted a quick wet kiss on my cheek. I wrapped my arms around her, pressing my face into the soft white fur. I decided to go back to the house and grab a book. Me and Angel would spend the rest of the day laying in the shade, with me using her back as a pillow.
That night, I paced about my room anxiously, trying to determine which of my two dresses I should wear to the date. Finally, I grabbed both by the hangers and showed them to Angel. "What do you think? The red or the blue?" Angel hopped off of my bed and placed a paw on the blue satin. "Blue it is then." I said, heading into the closet to change.
When I emerged from the closet, Angel gave a howl of approval. I spent about on my hair and makeup, making sure everything was perfect. I tied a pink satin ribbon around Angel's neck, despite her groan of displeasure. She tolerated it, however, though she refused to let me paint her nails. I shrugged, thinking about what I should do, what I should say, when the doorbell rang.
I made a mad dash for the door, quickly prying it open. Victor was there, in a suit and tie, real fancy. He must be taking me somewhere good. I greeted him with a kiss, Angel right on my heels. He didn't get to enjoy it much, since I quickly pulled away, a smile gracing my lips. He leaned against the doorpost casually, gripping a bouquet of roses. “You know, if you held eight roses in front of a mirror, you’ve be seeing nine of the most beautiful things in the world.” I rolled my eyes. Victor always had had a thing for cheesy pick-up lines.
He seemed to notice Angel for the first time. I pointed to her, not noticing that her fangs were bared and her lip was curled in a snarl. "Victor, this is my dog Angel. I told you about her last night."
He cocked his head. "Oh yes, I remember." He leaned forward, extending his hand towards her. A low growl rumbled in Angel's throat. Angel bared her fangs, her ears flattened against her head and her lips curled in a snarl. She suddenly lunged forward, snapping her jaws awfully close to Victor's hand. He drew it back in an instant looking bewildered. Angel lunged forward with a full-throated roar when I grasped the ribbon around her neck. I quickly dragged her away, apologizing to Victor in between scoldings. "I'm so sorry. She never normally acts like this. I don't know what's gotten into her, I-"
I shut the door firmly, turning to Angel. "What the hell has gotten into you?!" I said, giving her a confused look. "You never act like this. I’m not going to punish you, but until I get back, you’ll be on Lydia’s room lockdown.” I started for the door, but Angel cut in front of me, blocking the entrance. Her tail was tucked in between her legs, her eyes wide with panic. She let out a high-pitched whimper, which surprised me. Angel never whimpered. Ever. Something was wrong. I knew it, but I didn't address it at the time.
"Don't act like that Angel. It's not like I'm never coming back."
Angel looked at me mournfully, like she had already picked the flowers she was bringing to my funeral.
