Steven

4. Puppy

Smoke still comes out of the house. It's no longer a place of sadness now, but of numbness. Once the smell of that wretched alcohol started to return, I knew I had to leave. Besides, I was hungry, and I had eaten all my treats. So I started walking away, into the unknown. 

My paws ache. I want to stop. But I'm in a place where humans come a lot. Avoid humans. That's what I've learnt. And the humans that come here are bigger, scarier, and often smell of alcohol. One of the strangers kicked me and laughed. Tom used to do that a lot when Myrtle wasn't looking. I managed to stay quiet, and act dead. The woman who kicked me walked off, laughing hysterically. I had to get get back up, as difficult as it was, and walk some more. I had set out in the morning, when light and warmth actually existed, but now it was getting dark and freezing again. Walking aimlessly in tight alleys, I looked for a place far away from humans. And somehow I was failing; humans are like infections, they spread everywhere no matter what you do. I had an actual infection only last week. It's terrifying, as you feel pain spread from your head, to you body, right to your tail, with nothing to stop it. I had to recover myself. But I cannot recover from humans.

I must settle for the night. There are abandoned trollies here, I can tell they're abandoned as I sneeze due to the dust that is on them. Humans are obsessed with cleaning, and dusting. I would like to go in some dirt sometimes, but humans would never. These trolleys aren't clean, so humans must have left them. That's good and safe. Though I will probably sneeze through the night, it's safe, and that's all that matters.

My dog bed was nice. I didn't like that place, but it was comfortable and sheltered. Out here, my thin hair and small self can barely tolerate the cold. When I wake up, I am sure to be unable to move, as I will freeze in the night. But there are no ways to be warm, and at this point, I don't care.