Street Dog

The sun rose over the golden hills as a young puppy opened his eyes for the first time. He saw a female dog with a long body. Her ears had wavy fur and she seemed to have a red tint to her coat. The puppy looked up at his mother and let out a soft squeak, and with some effort, managed to hobble his way to one of her teats. He was the only male and had three sisters. The peaceful pup closed his eyes as he nourished himself, a sense of calmness falling over them. This, however, wouldn’t last.
He heard a strange sound. His mother stood up, growling. He and his sister, scared and confused, tried to get away. Of course, they were not able to get very far. A hand reached through the bush they were under, but it was quickly bitten. The young pup was able to see a few crimson drops as his mother attempted to protect them. An annoyed grunt was heard from the other side of the thick foliage. The owner of the hand wrapped it around his mother’s neck, yanking her out. A few shouts could be heard. “That’s the damned dog who bit her!” an enraged voice called out. The young pup could hear several eager footsteps rushing towards where he assumed the man who held his mother stood. After a few moments of snarling and barking from their mother, a sharp, quick bang rang out. It went silent. The footsteps were heard leading away from the bush. After a few moments, he stepped out of the bush.
A woman with raven hair wearing jeans and a T-shirt was crying. She noticed him and cried harder, picking him up slowly. He wanted to bark and bite her, but he didn’t. Something in him knew she wouldn’t hurt him. As she held him near her face, he licked her cheek as if wiping away her tears. There was a spot of blood on the ground that she stared at. She looked back to the puppy and sniffed. “H-hello, Tiny,” She spoke through choked back sobs.”I’m Maria. Your mother-” She cut herself off. ‘Tiny’, as he had been dubbed, was unsure of what she was saying. ‘Maria’ set him down and began walking away. She didn’t look back. Tiny took a few steps toward her but stopped. He turned towards the smell of trees and wildlife. He only made it to the edge of the farm before being unable to go any farther. Taking heavy breaths, he soon succumbed to exhaustion. His consciousness faded quickly. He felt the sensation of being carried before completely passing out.
Tiny’s mind was brought back to the present as a large bulldog leaped onto him. The group of men cheered, watching from the edge of the pen. He snarled, jumping at it. He felt teeth sink into his shoulder, crying out in pain. The doxine-mix threw the dog off him, biting into its leg. It shrieked, biting into his neck. He felt warm, metallic-tasting fluid fill his mouth. He collapsed, vision blurry. The bulldog had something placed on its muzzle as it was led away. A man who smelled of smoke and alcohol picked Tiny up by the hind leg. He sighed in disappointment and glared down at Tiny’s limp body. “You won me money, mutt, but it seems that your fighting days are over,” These were the last words Tiny heard before being chucked out into the middle of the road. He closed his eyes, welcoming a quick death. Nearly two years of dog fighting had taken its toll on him, and he knew that whatever came next must be better than his current life. That same calmness he felt as a pup fell over him he closed his eye, memories of his family flooding his mind. Maybe he would get to see them. He only had a few moments to cherish these memories before he heard the blaring of a horn, felt a sharp pain in his side, then nothing.