Yesterday's dog and other throw away stories.

Barncat(incomplete)

She crouched deep in the grass and weeds, awaiting her prey. Occasionally she would raise a paw to her mouth, to taste the earth, to taste the night. The henhouse in her sights. Occasionally one of the hens would move about. She would remain still during those times. Awaiting. And she waited. And waited. She caught a scent. Her ears perked up. She glanced about the field. This was prey. Prey is prey. But it wasn't*the*prey. She saw the weasel approach the coop and, for whatever reason, decided to be kind. She launched herself at the midnight sneak and crushed down on its windpipe while swiping down with her powerful rear legs. The chicken killing rodent was disemboweled and robbed of voice simultaneously. Not that he would have had much to say. Leeloo went back to her brush, watching over the coop. Content in the knowledge that the remains of the weasel would be enough to ward off the true enemy, if just for one more night.
She saw the sunrise long before the humans and other animals. She felt the warmth on her face before the sun broke the horizon and she rejoiced in it. Her duty fulfilled, she stood her post and awaited the yoo man to open the door. And he did, as skywork, the door opened and she ran past his legs, brushing each leg in the ancient greeting while he fulfilled his part of the promise by reaching down and petting her. The contract fulfilled, she ran off to her own business, leaving the yoo man to his own devices, his chickens and his hateful doges (which really weren't so bad once you got to know them, but that's another story for another day).