I waited until the sun dipped behind the hills and the moon rose high before I dared to move again. My legs ached, and my body sagged with exhaustion. My last meal had been at the pet shop, how long ago was that now? Days? Time had blurred since I ran away.
A gnawing pain hollowed out my stomach, clawing at me with every step. I didn't know how to hunt, as I wasn’t a wolf, and the wild was unfamiliar, especially when you are alone.
Maybe the city has food, I thought desperately. But… where is the city? I looked up at the moonlit sky for guidance, but it offered no answers. I let out a low whimper and kept walking. I’ll just keep going. Maybe I’ll get lucky. I have to. I can’t let this be the end.
______
And I was lucky! Just as the dark sky began to lighten with the blush of dawn, I stumbled upon a restaurant. It wasn’t open, but there it stood: a glorious, overflowing garbage bin by the side of the building.
Food!
I let out an excited bark and lunged forward, tail wagging furiously.
If you had told the pampered version of me back at the pet shop that I’d one day be celebrating over garbage, I would’ve snorted and said "impossible!" But now? Now, the stringy-but-juicy bits of bacon and stale bread crusts tasted like heaven.
Survival sure does change you. I sighed, licking the grease off my nose.
BARK! BARK!
I froze.
Oh, why do good things always have to end!?
“Stop right there!”
I whipped around to find myself face-to-face with a pack of about ten dogs. They stood at the edge of the alley, fur bristling and eyes fixed on me.
“That’s our territory,” the largest one growled, stepping forward.
I flattened my ears, unsure what to say. “I… I was just hungry. I didn’t know… Where else would I get food?”
The pack exchanged glances, their expressions unreadable in the shadows. They now must have known that I was terribly bad at living on the streets.
Finally, a smaller dog spoke up. “There’s food in the middle of the city. You’ll know it—it’s huge, noisy, and plays music all day. That’s where strays like you go.”
My ears perked up. “Oh…”
“But not here,” the large dog snapped. “This place is ours. You don’t belong here.”
The words stung more than I expected. I sighed and lowered my head, and stepped away from the bin, shame and fear curling tight in my chest. I didn’t want trouble. I just wanted to survive.
“Sorry,” I mumbled as I backed away. “I didn’t know…”
They watched me silently as I turned and padded into the soft blue of early morning, the last bite of bacon still caught between my teeth and the weight of their rejection heavy on my back.
I was already full, so I was fairly content, but I now know that living streets is going to be a hard thing to do. I might get killed one day, or perhaps I will join a pack and become a leader. Risk is always going to be there, but a good adventure is always waiting to be chosen.
I am going to live a fun life on the streets!
_____________________________________________________________THE END_________________________________________________________
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