{"sf1_id":883951,"sf2_id":"dmWZ5NMe","title":"The Round Trip","author":"Magnatross","words":408,"posted_at":"2015-07-08T02:29:00.000Z","tags":["Collie","Horse","Laboratory","Rhyme","Shrink","experiment"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/883951-the-round-trip","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/dmWZ5NMe","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/ae/92/ae92ca70-e096-4c53-9c74-dc4734eb9b08","description":"I was just taking Doc's rhyming dictionary for a spin.","content":"- - -\n\n  \n\nHe had little will to live much longer: they wanted to make the chemicals stronger. They'd take him in their giant paws, hook him to machines, staunch with gauze.\n\n  \n\nWeeks and weeks since he'd been taken, since the day he found the will to waken. The kidnapper who'd fitted him this fate? Never shown herself since that date.\n\n  \n\nFrom then she was gone, not seen at dusk or dawn. Not that he had even a window, while he believed his wife would soon widow.\n\n  \n\nOne day the woman returned to visit. Likely to rub his face in it.\n\n  \n\nBut no, she would not; apparent when her key reached the slot. To unlock his cage meant needles, he thought.\n\n  \n\nBut it did not.\n\n  \n\nFrom his cage he was transferred; at his size she could not be deterred. Then she whispered something absurd: _\"Stay quiet, say not a word.\"_\n\n  \n\nHe had not the will to reply, for he surely thought he would surely die. In an orange pill bottle he was stored, like before, so it was not unexplored. The woman, a collie, tucked the bottle in her bag, with a tumble that made him gag and gag.\n\n  \n\nHe was hidden from view, which was something new. Was he a secret experiment? With his luck, that was overdue. The woman walked, from what he heard, to a vehicle outside that was not chauffeured.\n\n  \n\nIts engine woke as it was provoked.\n\n  \n\nLight breached at last, and it happened so fast, as sun breached the car's glass. A paw plucked him from the bag, sat him beside her, left him to sag. The woman observed his blood-dried rags, nearly enough to make _her_ gag.\n\n  \n\n\"Can you hear me?\" she asked, but in despair he basked.\n\n  \n\nHe looked in her eyes, that much he knew, as he felt that his life would soon be through - he only hoped she wouldn't overdo.\n\n  \n\nThe woman stroked his wounds, maybe surprised that he hadn't swooned. He looked at her eyes, large like moons, as she said, \"I'm sorry. You'll recover soon.\"\n\n  \n\nThe horse watched in disbelief, though hardly enough to fight his grief. He began to shake like a leaf, and muttered to the thief through gritted teeth:\n\n  \n\n\"You've ruined me. You've ruined my life. You've taken all I had, including my wife. You did this to me. You began this strife. Have mercy on me: find a knife.\"\n\n  \n\n- - -\n\n  \n  \n\n","series":{"name":"Scraps","previous":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/876383-breaking-eggs.json","next":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/934516-anonymous-tip.json"}}