The Runt, Part 1.
#2 of The Runt.
The Runt.
Chapter 1.
By: Wolfie Steel.
I walk passed the entrance to a dark alleyway, it is the kind of dark alleyway that you don't linger in front of, and most certainly don't enter, especially if, like me, you are the runt of a litter of wolves, five feet nothing of black, matted fur, in fact I'm not big in any department, I have no muscle to speak of and I'm slightly overweight, my name is Max, though most just call me what I am, Runt, anyway, I'm going off topic.
As I pass the entrance to the alleyway, my ears catch the sound of a whimper coming from the deepest recesses of the alleyway, okay I'm a Good Samaritan, but even I know that I should just continue to walk on by. As I do, however, I hear another set of sounds; a slap followed by the sound of what I can only guess is breaking bones and another whimper, this time much louder.
My heart tells me that I need to head into the alleyway and try anything to relieve the poor unfortunate fur that was making the sounds, my brain was shouting "Don't get involved you fool", oh how I wished I had listened to my brain, but as is usual, my heart won out. I turn into the alleyway, and with shaking footpaws, I head into its depths, calling out all the way, I guess the sound of me calling out must have startled the furs attacker as I hear the sound of clawed feet beating a hasty retreat.
I have now walked to about three quarters distance of the alleyway and I come up on a garbage dumpster, I hear the whimper again, it's coming from inside the dumpster, again my brain is yelling at me to turn and leave, but again my heart wins and I slowly lift the lid of the dumpster, the sight that meets my eyes is a sight that I know all too well, as it used to be what happened to me. There in the dumpster, covered in garbage and blood, is the source of the whimpers, a black and tan coloured Rottweiler.
He looks at me and shivers, possibly fearing that I am round two of his obvious beating. Whoever has carried out this beating must be a large and dangerous fur, everyone knows that Rottweiler's are strong, fighting dogs, they are used for guarding company premises and rich furs houses, they have no fear, and yet, right here and right now there is a Rottweiler, badly beaten in a dumpster and afraid of a runt like me.
I slowly let my paw enter the dumpster, to offer the downed dog a means of help, but, fearing another beating, he cowers away, I guess it's time for me to try and calm him down.
"Hey, it's okay, I won't hurt you, I want to help you, please let me help you".
The dog now looks me in the eyes, he shivers once more but then he changes, I'm guessing that what he sees in my eyes is nothing but help and warmth. He slowly pushes out a shaking paw, I take it gently into my own, he slowly stands in the dumpster, I release his paw and turn my back to the dumpster, he wraps his paw around my neck and I slowly lift him clear of the dumpster.
I let him down to the floor and I notice that he stands awkward on one of his footpaws, more than likely it is the bone that I heard breaking earlier. With his paw still wrapped around my neck, I slowly lead him from the alleyway, reassuring him all the way.
"I'll get you to the hospital; you are in a bad way my friend".
He looks at me and slowly shakes his head and speaks.
"No hospitals, just take me somewhere to die".
So, he won't let me take him to the hospital, but there is no way that I'm letting him die out here, so my only other recourse is to take him back to my apartment and maybe try to get him fixed up. It takes us an hour and a half to make it back to my apartment, I slip my paw into the pocket of my old grey jacket and pull out my keys, I open the door and slowly manoeuvre us both inside, using my foot paw, I close the door, I then lead him into my bedroom and lay him on the bed, I head to the wall and switch the light switch. I turn back to the beaten dog, and it's only now that I realise just how close to death he really is, he has a number of deep and bleeding cuts to his face, muzzle, arms and legs, I notice that his left eye is closed, probably from a hefty blow, I also notice that he is naked and that all of his once proud fur is now filthy and matted.
I head to my kitchen and fill a bowl with warm water, I get a cloth and some dry towels and head back to my bedroom. I kneel by the side of the bed and gently begin to clean the Rottweiler, being ever mindful of his many injuries, gently cleaning them with the soft wet cloth. I begin to clean around his crotch area and he flinches, I'm guessing that he has probably received a damn good kicking there so I take it extra gently.
After the clean up, I gently pad him dry with the dry towels, I look up to his face and see that he is now asleep, so I pull the covers over him and head back out to my linen cupboard, I take out some spare bedding and head for my living room and make up a makeshift bed on the couch. I climb into my makeshift bed and within minutes I'm asleep.
The morning sun comes flooding through the dirty windows of my apartment and I awake, I get out of my makeshift bed and head into my bedroom to check on my injured guest, I see that he is awake and that the eye that was closed last night, is now partially open, I look at him and wince, he looks at me and speaks.
"Is it really that bad? I knew that I would be bad, but the look on your face says that I'm lucky to be alive".
I sit on the edge of the bed and speak.
"Oh yeah, whoever did this, has done a good job, if I hadn't heard your whimpers, you would have surely been dead by now. As far as I can make out, you have a broken leg, though how bad the break is I don't know, you have a lovely black eye and so many cuts and bruises. I wish that you would let me take you to the hospital, sure the cuts and bruises will heal by themselves, but you need to get your leg looked at by a professional, so please, for the love of god, let me take you to the hospital".
He considers my words carefully and then gently nods, at long last, I'm getting through to this Rottweiler, I find him some old pants of mine and an old shirt, and though I know that they will be a little short for him, I couldn't take him to the hospital naked, so I got him dressed.
Again, I wrap his arm around my neck and help him out of my apartment and to my old clunker of a car, I slowly lower him into the passenger seat and head around to the driver's side, I put the key in the ignition and crank the engine, eventually, and with quite a lot of cursing, the engine fires up and I drive out to the hospital.
On the journey I turn to the Rottweiler and introduce myself.
"By the way, my name is Max", he looks at me and smiles a weak smile and replies, "My name is Jake, and I want to thank you for coming to my rescue".