I'd been on my own since a couple months ago. My father had deserted me and my siblings, my mother too. I have been eatin' rats, garbage, whatever I could get my paws on, for the past few months as well. I was gettin' mighty all-fired tired of garbage. Chasin' rats was losin' its fun. But since me 'n my siblings ran away, things weren't gonn' get any better any time soon. So here I was, stuck with this. I got nary a wink of sleep due to all the traffic out on the dirty streets. Horns honked, train whistles sounded, intermingled with chuffing noises and metallic clanks and rattles. Car exhaust and the smell of smoke was in the air.

    I was about a year old now. Today was bright and mighty sunny, with hardly a cloud in the Los Angeles sky. My fur was wet because I'd rolled in a puddle not about fifteen minutes ago. I found a spot on a sidewalk and laid down after shaking my fur dry as I could. Across the street came the strong smell of smoke and another substance. Many times I saw really big black clouds moving, white ones too. The sounds of clanking, rattling, chuffs, and whistles were carried on every breeze. I soon fell asleep. When I woke up, I stretched, yawned, and stretched again. I stood up and trotted down the sidewalk. I wasn't looking where I was going, for I bumped into someone. I looked up at them. White shirt, blue overalls, all dusted with black. The person had a somewhat chubby face, and he had an air of industriousness and strength about him. He bent down and felt around my neck, checking for something. Not finding it, apparently, he put a rope around my neck as some sort of tether, and led me across the street to the smoke-filled, noise-filled yard. I looked around as we walked. Giant silver-and-black steam locomotives (as I heard them called) emanated steam and the foul-smellin' black smoke. Shorter monstrosities (I heard them called "cars") lay behind them, as well as by themselves in other rows. Sometimes the cars were hooked up to the engines, which soon whisked them off to places unknown to me. Accompanying the pulling-away were the chuffs, rattles, and clanks. The ground was nothing but rocks, sand, and the occasional bit of grass. We soon came upon a wooden structure and went inside. He removed the rope from around my neck. The walls of the place were lined with shelves on which sat stacks of papers, pens, and giant glass globes encased in wire and metal. One wall lacked these, for there was a window, in front of which sat a paper-covered desk. The man sat down in a chair near the desk. He just sat there, looking me up and down, sizing me up for reasons known only to him. After a brief shake of his head, he scribbled something on a piece of paper, stood up, and left. He soon came back, and put the rope on me once again. He led me to a medium-size wood building from which I heard barking and the shouts of men. Inside, he took me to a dimly lit narrow hallway. On either side of me were chain-link fence walls, divided by more chain-link. Some of these were occupied by other dogs. They were all German shepherds. As the man led me down the hall, I heard whispered comments and taunts. "Is that the new guy?" "Doesn't look that big. I bet he wouldn't even last five minutes in the yard." Some laughed. The man put me in one of these chain-link kennels and chained it shut. The floor was dirty, and the only things in my kennel were a water bowl and some small dry, dirt-encrusted bones, probably from a rat. I ignored them. I went and laid down in the corner. Listened to the other dogs. Listened to the noises of the building. What was going on here? Why was I here? I wanted to find out. I didn't want to. Thoughts were rushing through my mind like bullets. I couldn't think straight.

A couple hours later...

     I heard the door at the end of then hall open. Footsteps. Headed my way. The man, accompanied by another person, stopped in front of my kennel. The other person was wearing padding on his arms and body. The man who put me in this place undid the chains and opened the door. He put the rope around my again, and handed it to Padding Man. With a hard yank on the rope, he led me to a large room. Padding on the floor. The scents of other dogs was on the floor. I looked at Padding Man's arm padding. It was torn and had many bite-marks. Why? I think I was about to find out.

About 3 years later...

     I was sitting in a row of a few other dogs. Collar around my neck and harness on my body. Like the others, a man stood next to me, holding a rope tied to the harness. Training was over. I was ready for this job. I was mean as a rattlesnake. I wanted to bring something down, but I couldn't. I just wanted to get out of the damned harness and into the grounds of River Station Yard.

     Minutes later, I was out among the railcars and locomotives, patrolling the yard, out of the harness. Within minutes, I came upon a cab-forward with a string of empty reefers holding on the main iron. I walked down the length of the consist. Near the end, I came upon a miscreant spray-painting graffiti on the side of one of the cars. I gave a warning bark. He turned my way, then continued. Another warning bark. Low growling rose in my throat. He hesitated. He took off running. The chase was on. We ran past more trains. Zigzag. He ran between two boxcars. He thought he could escape me. Boy was he a damned fool. I ran ahead, slipped under a sugar beet gondola, stopped in his path. He took off again. He started to run toward the end of the yard, cutting across it. Cutting across tracks, hopping over rails, avoiding train cars and locomotives like it was nothin'. Well he wasn't gonna get away on my watch! I put forth an extra burst of speed, and stopped him mere meters from freedom. I cut him off, then grabbed his arm and pulled him down. I tore at him, shredding the sleeve of his shirt. A whistle blew. Train coming this way. I tried to drag this all-fired fool offa the tracks, but he put up a fight. The train grew closer. The whistle blew again, more urgently. He held on to the tracks. Up to something. No time to mess around. The train was highballing through the yard. The fool pushed me off as the train continued to bear down. He tossed me onto the track. Trying to stop me? Not a chance in hell. I got up and leapt at him again. Pinned him down. Barked up a storm. He threw me onto the track again. I bit his hand and wrist. The train rushed by, the wind of its passin' blowin' through my fur. The chuffs and rattles were nearly deafenin'. Soon the white shirts came and arrested the man. Dog-bone for me. My first day in the yard, and already the action was good.

A couple weeks later...

     Since that day, I caught two more good-fer-nothins on the yard. I stopped sleepin' in my kennel at night and started sleepin' in an open-doored empty boxcar.

     Tonight was just another ordinary night in the yard. Steamers pullin' strings of reefers, peddler freights leavin' the yard, switching crews movin' cuts of cars, steamers enterin' and leavin' the roundhouse, and the other usual nightly yard activities. I just listened to the sounds of River Station Yard. Music to my ears. Yet another whistle filled the night. Thinking nothin' of it, I went back to sleep, lookin' forward to another day of patrollin' the yard, hopin' to catch a good-fer-nothin' or two. I was near the back of the car. Hay was scattered on the dirty, scuffed-up wooden floor. I fell asleep.

     I awoke a couple hours later. Felt shaking, heard rattling and clanks. Chuffs too. Wind blew in my face. Unfamiliar scenery rushed by. What in all-fired tarnation? I thought. I watched, hopin' to recognize at least somethin'. Minutes passed. Hours passed. Still no idea. Like on that first day, I couldn't think straight. I laid back down, paws mere inches from the edge of the open door. Fell asleep again. All this thinkin' jus' plumb tuckered me out.

     I woke up again. second day in the car. Stomach growling. Looked around, bleary-eyed. There. Movement in the corner. A mouse. Movement stopped. Movement came again. I stretched, yawned, stood up. Saw the movement again. Rushed. Caught it. Afterward I put my head down. Still hungry. Felt angry. No reason. Soon the car stopped. Unfamiliar yard. Familiar smells. Familiar sounds. Familiar sights. More steamers. More boxcars, gondola, flats and reefers. Different city. Got up again, stretched, yawned, and made my way the open door. Hopped out. What else lay in this city? Who else might I meet? Gah. They might be good-fer-nothin' mutts. I walked out of this new railyard.

To be continued...