My mistress was always aggravated by the two men’s presence but her annoyance never seemed to disturb them. I believe one of them had some sort of leverage over her.  They never ceased in their attempts to converse with her. The large harry man smelled like another of my canine brethren, a female if my olfactory senses were precise.

Mistress called him Dog in a most disrespectful manner.  I did not comprehend why that was an insult. Mistress, however, seemed to think it was and so I let it go. There wasn’t much I could do anyway, the month or so I had been with Mistress we had never managed to communicate more than a word or two.  She seemed to be getting better, but there were times when I felt like she expected me to behave like one of her precious feline companions.

I tried my best to assimilate myself to their culture. My efforts were for the most part in vain.  The felines weren’t interested in bridging our cultural riff.  My abandonment had also led me to having a deficit in my own canine culture.

A deficit that was soon to be remedied; one afternoon, the tall man and the man named Dog, convened a meeting to discuss my future with Mistress.  We walked into Mr. Dog’s home and I was greeted by the female canine I smelled early. Her name was Mackie.

When I told her my name, she just chuckled.  Don’t worry, Dog and Stew will fix that little problem for you. She won’t explain just sniffed my rectal area.   It was a most disconcerting at first, the whole olfactory inspection, but oddly familiar.  Mackie completed her inspection while the hominids began their negotiations.

The tall man, whose name Mackie confirmed was Stew, was holding a strange leash and collar.  Mackie went to sit

by dog and I lay at the feet of my Mistress.  She was trying to protest, but Dog finally gave her an ultimatum, either she give me to the tall man or get rid of me.  She didn’t fight much after that, just handed me over to the tall man.  I was fond of him, he was my friend, and now my master.  I titled my head towards Mistress. She did nothing.

The new collar was metallic and seemed to pinch my neck, it wasn’t comfortable but I was delighted to be receiving the pets from the tall man,oh, I mean Stew,, no… Master. He had some treats and feed them to me while Mistress left.  I called after her, whimpered in hominid terms. I waited but she didn’t come back.

Booger

Mackie came over to me and licked my face. It’s ok, kid, Stew is your Pappa now, like Dog is mine.  Pappa? I didn’t comprehend what this new word meant or how it would change my life. Pappa led me out of the apartment and down the hall to his home.  His scent coated the apartment.  It wasn’t at all like Mistress home.

Pappa had food for me.  Good food, not that blasted Sam’s choice. Real food.  Fifteen minutes later, he led me to the yard to do my business.  “Go to potty .. Go poop..” it was a cruel command, however, I did feel a certain urge and so complied with the command.

Over the next week, I learned that the collar was meant to discipline me. It caused me to be reminiscent of when my mother would nip my neck for the same purpose.  Something that mistress had never done.  It was somewhat unpleasant, but it felt oddly right and Pappa was more gracious to me than her.  I didn’t have to sleep at the foot of the bed.  I now cuddled under the covers with him.  Cuddling…that is what he called it. A simple, but appropriate word.