AiD 2 - Like the tail wagging the dog

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>It’s been a long hard week in Dogland, as you’ve dubbed it. Maybe more than a week, but it’s hard to tell time underground. The physical work is exhausting, but it keeps your mind off of the difficult questions that try to run through your head.
>Is any of this real? Would you ever see any of your friends again?
>The thought that everyone you ever knew might be gone forever, weighs heavily on your mind, but luckily the diamond dogs have gone a long way in making you feel welcome and answering any questions you might have.
>They’re much smarter than you originally gave them credit for, but they’re a rather simple people, and very direct.

>Based on what few crude maps you’ve found, you’re certainly not on the same Earth as when you started, but the dogs have assured you that this world is called Earth as well.
>Assuming you haven’t been hallucinating very vividly for a full week or so, you’d say that incident in your room somehow transported you to a parallel dimension or something.
>At the moment you’re inquiring as to the kinds of animals that inhabit this world.
“So, there are regular dogs, which are sometimes kept as pets. Did diamond dogs evolve from them over time?”
>”Don’t know,” the guard dog simply replies.
>You sigh.
“How about animals that you don’t see very often? Like, what kind of creatures are there that I should know about, or animals that are common to this world, but not here in the woods or desert.
>“Mmm... …cockatrices, timberwolves, and manticores all very dangerous. Don’t see many Zebra or buffalo around woods. Stupid ponies usually stay away from desert. Dragons smart but not very friendly to dogs, same with Minotaurs. Griffins fun, sometimes talk with dogs.

>That’s an interesting bit of info there. You wonder if he means true speech, or some kind of mimicry like a parrot. The idea of a second sentient race on the planet brings to mind a whole new world of possibilities, you would have to try and speak with them.
>On the other hand, if these griffins are anything like the ones in human mythology, they might be large and vicious. The guard dog did say they were fun though...
>You don’t get the chance to ask any more questions however, as the green-eyed dog, whose name you learned is Rover, walks into the room.
>“Okay dogs, lunch is over. Go back to work!”
>You grab the remnants of your meal and drop your bowl off with the others. Gruel and ground mystery meat, with a piece of bread. You’re getting really tired of diamond dog food. It tasted like, well, dog food.
>You grab your gear and head out. The dogs had given you a breastplate and helmet that were laying around. Meant for a much smaller dog than you, they none the less fit you very well owing to the fact that the dogs were comparatively stockier than you and had rather large heads.

>You’re finishing up your shift, arms aching and face drenched in sweat. You scratch at your ever multiplying bug bites when you notice a commotion in the caverns above.
>Dogs are rushing by, you manage to get one’s attention.
“What’s happening, where’s everyone going?”
>“Scouts found trespassing buffalo from desert, killed it. Need help bringing it inside.”
>Your heart leaps. You drop off your pick and hurry to follow. It’s dinnertime, and you finally have an opportunity to eat REAL meat, not ground bits of woodland critters.
>You find a small gathering of dogs in one of the upper tunnels, huddled around the carcass. It’s much smaller than the bisons you’ve seen on farms back in America, but you’re not too surprised. Those are RAISED to be food, this one’s probably wild. Besides, you’ve noticed that most of the animals in Dogland seem to be smaller than their Humanlandic counterparts.
>The dogs look rather confused.
>The small vest-wearing one from last week speaks first. If you recall, the guards called him Spot.
>“What do we do with it?”
>Fuck this, you aren’t letting the cafeteria cooks turn this bounty into slop. You know these dogs would find a way to make this fantastic beast taste like Kibbles.
“If you guys help me prepare the meat, I know how to cook buffalo.”
>They look overjoyed. It dawns on you that judging from their reactions they might not have even considered eating this magnificent beast at all.
>You remember the guard dog from earlier saying that buffalo were rare around these parts, after all. Dogs probably didn’t have much exposure to buffaloes.

>You’re in the kitchen now. One of the cafeteria dogs, a hulking butcher with the face of a pitbull is shoving meat into a grinder.
>You on the other hand are taking that ground meat and mixing it in a large bowl with some eggs, diced onions, garlic, and a pungent black sauce you found in the kitchen that seems pretty close to worcestershire sauce.
>It was a welcome surprise to find the onions, you had assumed that the dogs wouldn’t be able to eat the things. Apparently, these diamond dogs had evolved past that. Assuming they had evolved from regular dogs at all, which you had no way of knowing.
>You gather the meat into balls and begin forming patties.
>The grill is set up in plain view of the mess hall, underneath one of the larger ventilation shafts. You specially requested this setup, dogs didn’t normally cook like this, and you didn’t want to fill the kitchen with smoke.
>Glorious buffalo burgers begin to cook. The smell is amazing.
>You can see the closest diamond dogs begin to drool.
>Taking some moldy cheese from the kitchen you crumble it on top of a few of the patties.
>The meat now cooked, roquefort melted on top, you slip your masterpiece into a couple slices of bread.
>6 years of college and working in restaurants made you a pretty good cook.
>The burger is amazing. You throw together more and begin passing them out to the dogs.
>They absolutely love it.
>“Buffalo is delicious!” a guard dog exclaims.
>“Spot found buffalo, dogs should thank Spot!” the little one says, obviously looking for some recognition.
“Thanks a ton Spot, you did real good.”
>The dogs present are practically celebrating, they even begin pulling out some barrels of drink.
>You try a sip, and find it pretty revolting. It’s clearly alcoholic though, so you drink a ton anyways.

>You’ve become quite the celebrity after that feast.
>It’s been a few days, and the dogs have changed their attitudes significantly where you’re concerned.
>Before they had been mostly indifferent paying no heed to you as you worked. Spot, Rover, and Fido would check on you and tell you what to do or where to pull carts, and then leave.
>Guards had been friendly enough to answer any questions you asked, but they had never really sought out your company. In fact, until now most of the dogs that didn’t speak with you had apparently assumed you were just a shaved minotaur come to help work.
>Now however, the dogs were trying to find out more about you, what you could do. You had been given a few shifts in the kitchen, and fewer shifts pulling the jewels.
>Fido was spending a lot of time with you as well, showing you around the further tunnels and asking about your life before dogland. You’ve learned that he and the two dogs he’s always with are informal leaders of the other diamond dogs.
>He’s been asking about human music lately.
“It’s a pretty big coincidence, but David Bowie actually made an album called Diamond Dogs”
>“There are diamond dogs in Humanland?”
“No, that’s why it’s so weird.”
>He pauses, trying to process this thought.
“What about you guys, what kind of music do dogs play?”
>“Uhhh, not many dogs play music now.”
>His eyes light up.
>“Ooh! Fido has great idea! Come with Fido!”

>He leads you down one of the lower corridors. You’ve never been to these parts of the mines.
>You step into a large cavern where some of the worker dogs seem to be relaxing. They’re smaller than the guards for the most part, and more varied in how they look.
>A few of them are drinking that same swill from the buffalo barbeque.
>“Look here!” Fido says excitedly, pointing past a rough wooden bench to the wall.
>There lies a small pile of instruments, covered in dust.
>You see among them flutes made of bone and wood, a couple of strange looking horns, drums, lyres, and a decently sized lute.
>“Dogs used to play music here. Made many dogs happy.”
>You pick up the lute, turning it in your hands. Six strings, you pluck one and hear a twangy but rich note.
>Immediately you begin to try and tune it like a guitar. Fido looks at you curiously.
>The frets are weird as all hell, but with a little work you’re figuring out how to get the notes you want out of this thing.

>As you mess with the instrument, the chatter amongst the working dogs dies down. Many look at you expectantly.
>You try a few practice chords, and fine-tune a bit more. You were doing this entirely by ear, but you had a good sense of pitch, you had almost changed majors to music at one point during your college career.
>”Play!” a dog yells from across the room.
>Might as well give it a shot, you think.
>Life on Mars, by Bowie. You strum softly at first, and as you hit your stride you find yourself more confident in your playing.
>The dogs are captivated by your music, as you end the song they erupt into cheers.
>You thought it was okay, you missed more than a few notes due to the strangeness of the instrument.
>”Human play good!” Fido yells.
>”Come! Drink with dogs!” one of the workers this time.
>You may be stuck here, but life isn’t all bad.
>You’re making new friends, you’re certainly keeping busy...
>You feel like you could get used to this.

End Chapter 2 - Like the tail wagging the dog