Man's Best Friend

• Megan Mcmahon, Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2014

The dog quietly ran through the cities empty streets, jumping at the slightest sound. It was almost midnight, but was so overcast that the sky was completely hidden from view. The envelope tied to the dog’s collar was light but weighed heavily on his mind.

Every dog knew the law. Being home after midnight was punishable by a whole day in the ring. The sound of the city clock chimed midnight and an arrow of fear pierced the dog’s heart. He ran faster than he ever had, but he knew that they already knew. They always knew.

Then he heard it. Not yapping, not howling, not even growling. It was more of a hissing sound. ‘Oh no,’ thought the poor dog. He must’ve been in serious trouble if they had sent the cats.

Then he was faced with a problem or more accurately, a fork in the road. The path that veered of to the right was quicker but went straight through Bottle-brushes territory. That cat had attitude and if the dogs had given her and her feral partners permission to slit his throat, then she would do it gleefully, with all four claws carving long bloody gashes across his throat. That didn’t sound very appealing to the dog.

The left path was longer,but went all the way around Bottle-brushes territory ergo, he took the left.

Along one side of the path ran the back of an abandoned warehouse. Large empty crates hid most of the vandalized walls. On the opposite side of the road was a high, car lined, two meter fence that hid the houses back yard from view. The dog ran through the middle of the road, the only sound were his paws against the gravel. The dog rounded the corner, home territory was right there he could see it.

Suddenly, a chill ran down the dogs spine and a hiss shivered through the air. He skittered to a halt. Before him an army of cats blocked his path, Bottle-brush stood in the lead and hissed loudly at the dog. He turned and looked behind him, Alfa, the leader of the dogs of this city stood behind him. He growled. The dog franticly looked around. There had to be a way out, there always was. Then he saw the crate. It was the last one in the row.

Suddenly he started running. He leapt up onto the crate, and using the last of his energy, sailed over the cats and dashed up the driveway and through the flap in the door, where he was safe. They couldn’t come in here. This was strictly his territory, they wouldn’t dare.

The house was silent, still. It felt like he had just entered another world where the world of cats and dogs was non-existent and all there was, was dog and man. The dog silently padded upstairs. He went into his masters room and pulled the letter free from his collar with his teeth and placed it on his masters bed, then silently exited the room. He had no idea what was in the letter, but it must have been vitally important if the old lady had dragged him aside and latched it to his collar. She had then grabbed his face and whispered, “Now, you listen to me. Deliver this to Jerry and make sure he reads it.”

The old lady had then pushed him out of the door and the dog started running as fast as he could.

The dog padded into the young boys room, leapt up onto the bed and fell asleep almost immediately. The master and his family didn’t know what had happened tonight. They would never know; and that was the way it was meant to be.