A Junkyard Dog General, Story One: Rex was a Good Dog
Rex was a Good Dog
Rex was a good dog. His boss, the human, called Steve, would always tell him that and best of all, he would feed him like he was a good dog. Rex was the pup of a Rottweiler and a Pitbull number four out of a litter of five. When he was old enough, he came to live with Steve or the boss in the playground. Most of the other humans called it a junkyard and called Rex a junkyard dog, but Rex saw it as an endless adventure. He would run around among all the strange moving things the boss called cars; he would bark hello to anyone that would come about. Most people backed away, but that was alright, they didn’t belong there anyway. The boss would give him the crunchy food that made his mouth feel good as well as chunks of meat that made him feel good. From time to time, the boss would take him on a drive in one of the working car things. Rex liked the feeling of the wind as he hung his head out the opening or off the side of the truck bed.
Outside of Steve and the occasional visitor, Rex’s life was lonely. He would miss his brothers and sisters and dream of getting a bitch of his own and just maybe some puppies. The yard had a few cats. Rex liked the cats, but for some unknown reason, he had to chase them. He knew he would never hurt them; the cats killed the rats, and he hated the food-stealing rats. Rex felt that there was just something in his nature that made him chase the pussy. When not chasing cats or barking hello at strangers, he would roam about or nap inside one of the non-working car things.
One night he heard a strange high-pitched sound like the kind of whistle the boss would use. Just outside of his yard, there was a deer-meat. Rex saw animals like deer as walking meat. The boss would hunt in the fall, and he would come back with deer meat that would feed them both for months. This deer was different. It had no smell. To Rex, all animals had their unique scent, but this thing smelled like a machine like one of those two-wheeled cars, the boss called motorbikes. The no-smell deer meat was near the gate, and they seemed to be trying to find a way inside into the boss’s playground. As he watched the deer, Rex could hear the high-pitch sound change from just a sound to words like the boss and the other people’s words.
Outside of a few critical sounds like, treat, meat, vet, and no, Rex couldn’t understand what the boss and the other people were saying. Rex figured that people made the sounds so they could smell each other’s breath like how he and the other animals do with the glans in the back. In his time with the boss, he had never seen him sniffing the backsides of the other humans. The sound was talking to the deer, saying something that was just on the verge of being understandable. The human words that seemed to make sense were kill and bad. Something was telling the deer-meat to kill something terrible. No matter what the voice was saying, the deer-meat didn’t belong in the playground.
Rex went to the gate to tell the deer-meat to go away. Along the way, he practiced his voice and his sound argument on why they should leave, but by the time he got to the gate, all that came out was, “leave…. now... Leave, …… now, now, now.” Usually, the other animals, as well as the other people, would run from his assertive use of the word now, but the deer meat just stood their ground. The boss was on a trip with his other people for either the night or the rest of all time on earth, with no understanding of time Rex wasn’t sure. One of the deer-meat kicked the lock holding the gate closed. Rex had enough of their refusal to obey and went to using his weapons. He snapped at the deer-meat, trying to either take hold or scare off.
From behind him, Rex heard the cat cry out. He turned to see, but the yard was dark. The deer-meat started to work on the gate, kicking it. Rex left them knowing they wouldn’t get past the boss’s impenetrable barrier, and he went to find the cat. A strange meaty smell came across the air. Rex knew the scent of most meat, but this was something new. He turned and saw the squirrel-meat things doing something to a motionless cat. Rex scared off the squirrel-meat to find his sort of friend the cat called Spike on his side with his meat hanging out. The squirrel-meat things had finally killed him after years of him killing them as well as anything small that would come into the playground. Just as he went to smell Spike, an ominous sound came from the front. The gate opened.
Rex checked, seeing not the two deer-meat but an army of deer-meat coming into his yard. Some of the deer-meat had a scent while others gave of either no scent or an awful scent like the thing the boss lets go when he does his thing, he calls welding. Rex knew if he stayed, he would end up like Spike, meat for the deer. A memory from his puppyhood brought him back to a stack of the car things. He remembered how the boss almost knocked over a stack of the dead car things by leaning on one. Rex felt something in his head that was never there before. He liked working off instinct, but now he saw a plan. Rex took a jump hitting the fourth car up, his force and weight were just enough to start an avalanche of dead car things spreading across the yard, killing many of the deer-meat. Rex escaped in the confusion.
Rex wanted to find the boss. Something about that high-pitched sound was helping him see things clearer. The funny lines on the big rectangle things started to make sense. Rex was beginning to be able to read. The boss said a reunion at the school. A sign read, “Highschool next right.” There was another word that must have been the name, but that wasn’t a word Rex new yet. The longer the vibration went, the more he understood. Soon he saw his life wasn’t a series of wonder in an endless playground but a prison guarding those things most people didn’t want. The Vibration was trying to get him to kill the boss, but it also woke his memories from his puppyhood to those bowls of strange water the boss called beer. For better or worse, he was the boss’s, and the boss was his.
Eating the Deer
For the next hour, Rex ducked and hid his way to the school. The parking lot was filled with parked car things and deer. The lights were out, and there were motionless people on the ground. Rex could smell the boss, but his scent was faint. He checked around all the rooms. In one large room, Rex found more bodies with the floor covered in sticky stuff that smelt like meat. He checked all the bodies, but he couldn’t find him. The scent of a few people led Rex out another door and out to a place where the people kept the long car things the people call buses. A faint scent of the boss was among the others.
Rex left the school and made his way onto the highway. The road wasn’t as much fun without the moving car to ride in. A car had hit one of the deer meat, and it was on the side of the road dying. Rex could see the anger in its eyes and the scent of back off coming from its end. Rex was hungry, and the deer-meat was meat, but he wasn’t sure he could kill it until he smelled the people blood on the deer’s hooves and muzzle. The deer-meat killed people, and all is fair in war. Rex took hold of the deer’s throat and ripped it out. What remained of the deer twitched then went motionless. Rex started to eat strange meat.
Rex went south, hoping to find the boss. What he found was more death. The vibration kept telling him to kill people, but Rex was a good dog. He heard a two-wheeled car thing called a motorbike. A young man was in the seat and was eye-to-eye with a few of the deer-meat. Rex was a good dog, he knew this person was in trouble and would never escape the deer, but he would most likely die and never find the boss if he helps, but Rex was a good dog. Rex looked at the boy; then he listened to the south, hoping he would catch on and go. The boy seemed to understand, and he took off. Rex thought, “you could have said thanks.” Rex went for the lead deer-meat knocking it down as the other deer-meat backed away. Rex fought for his life and the life of the unknown boy on the bike because Rex was a good dog.
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© 2019 Michael Collins aka Lakemoron