The Dog Mosaic: Part Three

::THE CROW AND THE TIGER::

He was a stray dog: a loner. No pack, no home, and no human to feed him. He was almost limitless: not bound to the rules of human beings, and yet beaten down by them because of their superiority complex. This stray, he was the closest thing to wild roaming the alleyways… but even he couldn't truly be free with those egotistical monkeys running the joint. Down the streets he trotted, his confidence showing through his proud stride and what would be a raised tail if it weren't reduced to a stump from his harsh life out here.

Tap, tap, tap…

The footsteps echoed into the abyss of the night as the speckled black, brown, and silver canine made his way into the heart of the town's residential area. His overgrown nails clicked against the cement in a continuous beat, but even so, the sound was so soft, not many creatures would catch it… and surely… surely not human beings. They were blissfully unaware of the world around them, so lost to nature that they had decided to build cities over what was once a free land to all. And this dog… he hated humans. He hated them with a passion. Man's best friend? Ha! He had been abandoned and left for dead by the one he was supposed to be loyal to. How was he supposed to be loyal to a group of careless beings that threw him out on the street to fend for himself? What kind of equality was that?

It wasn't equality, and that was where he had crossed the line. "Never go back," he'd told himself many times over. "Never rely on humans again."

But how could he not? This mongrel was not a hunter: the deceiving hands of human beings raised him. He could not catch sewer rats or birds from the sky… and he was ashamed that he was so helpless… so reliant on stealing from the very creatures he so despised.
And because of his many successful scavenging and stealing ordeals, the humans had become a bit more… protective of their properties. Since then, the loner fice had to make a few friends to successfully get his meals as of late. He hated that though. He liked his solitude… because that meant he would always be in control of what went on. He liked being the alpha of his own 'pack' of nobodies.

But that wasn't the issue right now. The issue was his snarling stomach. So, what was the plan tonight? Which unsuspecting house would he steal the tastiest meal from? The mutt went prowling down the street, his nose to the air in the hopes that he might catch a whiff of something gourmet. Usually, the homemade dishes were more difficult to get, but all the more worth it. It was either that or the garbage disposal vents….
And this dog was not going to be reduced to trash.

At last, he came upon the correct house. It even was prepared with a dog door for him to break into, but that meant another obstacle: there was another tyke inside, and judging by the size of the dog door itself, a rather large one. This particular male was small, and so the presence of a large mutt could really be an issue. He really was going to need help tonight if he was going to get his well-deserved meal….

"How unfortunate," he muttered. The self-proclaimed king of the streets stood a few yards away from the house's entrance, debating the pros and cons of the situation. No, it wasn't worth it… but he needed the food…

CRASH!

The sound made the male tyke's ears perk up to the top of his head, and immediately, he slipped away and out of view of the house so that its owners wouldn't suspect it was he. Whatever had made that crashing sound was the perfect kind of distraction for a situation like this. Searching the area for what had made the sound, the stray dog spotted another creature similar to himself rummaging through a trashcan.

A light bulb went off in his head as he slinked beneath the grass to approach the other canine. The scent was unmistakable… this was no dog, but rather, a coyote. What the wild creature was doing in the streets rather then out in the wild, where he himself longed to be, was beyond the mutt.

"Hey you," the dog yipped. All at once, the coyote leapt up, crashing his head onto the top of the tipped over trashcan, and sending another loud crash ringing through the neighborhood. The mongrel winced, wondering how this stupid coyote had managed to get as far as a human neighborhood with the amount of noise he made. The distant relative to the stray turned around, his eyes wild and his ears perked.

"Who're you?" he spluttered, his voice barely above a whisper. He seemed shocked and confused, and seemed as though he had been for eons, not just in the moment the dog had decided to talk to him.

"Don't you want something better then trash?" the dog coaxed. No point in senseless introductions and other useless jabbering. The gnawing at his stomach was growing ever more painful, and the dog wasn't in the mood to waste time. "If you help me, we can get the gourmet stuff in that house."

The coyote tilted its head, his eyes searching the feist's own orbs for any sign of trickery, but the stray stayed stoic… truthful. They both needed the food, so why not just work together this once? It was a survival tactic, "I'd be happy to help," the wild animal finally concluded. "My name is Tiger, and you are…?"

"Crow."

"Crow and Tiger. Two animal names for a totally different species… how funny!"
The mutt now revealed to be Crow rolled his eyes, and simply said, "Follow me. You're a coyote, so the trickery part is probably your forte. I'll go for the rougher bits, okay?" Tiger made a grunt of approval as the two canines made their way back towards the house's entrance. Once the dog door was in view, Crow crouched to the ground, and after a few looks back and forth between their target and his companion, so did Tiger. Crow stared at him skeptically. Was he really a coyote? He seemed so helpless… like a puppy.

A puppy!

That had to be it. He was a young coyote, inexperienced and unable to find food in the wild, and therefore relying on human waste to keep his stomach content. A pang of sympathy overwhelmed Crow, but he knew the rules of the streets. Only the strongest survived, and to do that, risks had to be made. This was one he was willing to take….
"I want you to go in, cause a racket, and have the big human man and his dog chase you out of the house. Got it? You can use that little flap over there. It's called a dog door. It will give you access in and out of the house. Since you're a coyote, all you'll have to do is slip in, bark a few times, and slip out. Okay?" Tiger remained silent for a few moments, wondering if this was an idea worth executing. However, one more jab at Crow's stomach, and he didn't dare wait for an answer from the wild dog, "Just do it! Trust me!"

With a whine, Tiger crept forward, trying to gather confidence before he made his daring move. A few silent, heavy moments passed by, and Crow's tongue lolled out in anticipation. The fumes of the foods inside were intoxicating… driving him to the brink of insanity. At last, just as Crow was about to yell at his ally to get his fluffy tail moving, the Tiger dashed forward. With impressive agility that could only be an instinct from the wild, the coyote slipped through the dog door and into the house.

Crow waited with eagerness, his paws itching to dash forward, but knowing it was a bad idea. He had to wait… wait for the danger to get away from him first. In a matter of moments, things went from calm to chaos. Tiger scrambled his way back out the dog door, and a large, black, menacing Mastiff chased after him. Its mouth was open, and foaming with a mixture of drool and leftover food scraps. It was furious. Tiger must have been stupider then Crow thought, because no mongrel would be quite that angry unless his food was going to be taken.

Then again, Crow was hungry enough to have tried something similar in Tiger's situation. He looked back over to the door as it opened and a big, burley man stepped into the moonlight. In his hand, a shotgun was silhouetted, and with cheeks and eyes ablaze, he ran forward, shouting profanities to the heavens for giving him such bad luck.

"A god damn coyote. What kind of practical joke do you think this is you stupid, non-existent, bastard of a holy spirit? Huh? Huh!?" The man rushed off, shooting his gun towards the void where he thought the noise was coming from, only to lumber after his stupid Mastiff. Now was Crow's chance…. Quickly, he zipped into the open door, just between the legs of several human beings, who let out their own exclamations of surprise. Crow didn't waste any time in looking back. Instead, he jumped onto the table, grabbing the first meat-like thing he could in his maw: steak. Drooling at the mouth, Crow devoured a thick juicy piece, and then took another, and another... Next… was the mashed potatoes… and then the boiled vegetables… and then….
"YOU GOD DAMN ROTTEN BEAST FROM HELL GET OFF OF MY TABLE!"

Crow's eyes widened as he found himself face to face with the barrel of a gun. Blood was staining the grown man's face, he could tell from its distinctly flowery smell that it was not a human's blood. Humans' blood reeked of rusting metal, showing the poison running through their veins… The poison that had made them heartless enough to throw poor old Crow onto the streets.

And the same poison that pulled the trigger and ended the dog's life.