really saved me Sam.”
  “I did?”
  “Yeah.” Fluffy tail wagging, he leaned across the table and kissed her cheek. “I was so lonely and distant; I hardly spoke my mind after my accident. I...” He paused, not wanting to tell her he had come from Heaven to see Lupus. That was supposed to be secret that he had died. “I barely survived.” He finished.
  “And I’m glad you did.” Was the happy reply he received from his love. “Not that I wasn’t happy with Uncle Andrew, but it was nice to find a guy who finally caught my interest.”
  “And as handsome as me?” The Husky teased.
  “You’re downright hideous.” She teased back, and they both laughed happily.
  Across the street, hiding in the darkness of the alleyway, Andrew watched them both, eyes narrowed. He was following Abyssus around, learning where he liked to go, his habits, anything he could. The young mutt resisted the urge to run in there and grab Sam and get out.
  He had to plan, remove the problem entirely. If he wanted to keep Sam, if he really wanted his niece back, he would need to go straight for the source. The Husky who had all her attentions, all her love and adoration, he had to go. Grinding his claws into the concrete and gritting his teeth, a low growl rumbled in Andrew’s chest.
  Soon he would have Sam back, and he would never be alone again.

  Charlie flipped through some newspapers, checking up on the news around town. Itchy was sweeping around, his job a lot easier. Since Charlie had started running the bar and the apartment, he had gotten much more responsible and cleaned up after himself to set up an example to the other hounds that lived there.
  The Dachshund soon finished and poured the dust in a bin, nudging it into the corner. “Anything interesting, Charlie?”
  “Not a bit, Itch.” The older mutt said, tossing the papers into a recycle bin. “Just all the same old stuff, nothing is really interesting.”
  “Sounds like the life to me, nice and relaxed.” The wiener dog said with a chuckle. As he passed Charlie, the mutt leaned down and teasingly turned his hat around and tugged it over his eyes.
  “You always like things easy, no big secret there.” Charlie paused, remembering something. “Oh yeah, I nearly forgot, can you do me a favor Itchy?”
  Turning his hat back around, Itchy looked up. “Sure Charlie, what do ya need?”
  “Can you go get the rent from our tenant? First floor, two doors to the left, if you don’t mind.”
  Itchy tilted his head curiously, but he nodded. Usually Charlie had no problem getting the rent, but he supposed there was something he needed to do. He opened the door and started heading down stairs, pausing as he heard muttering from Andrew’s room. He had to admit, since he last saw him he didn’t seem quite right, and he assumed that’s what Charlie wanted to handle.
  Reaching the first floor, the small dog reached the door indicated and knocked.
  “Come on in!” He heard from inside, and he opened the door and stepped in. He blinked a bit as he saw papers and napkins strewn about, all with words and scratched out lines all over them. “In here, make yourself at home.” Itchy followed the voice into a room, and wasn’t surprised to see that it looked worse off.
  A young lady was cleaning up some of the balled up papers, knowing they would be no use, and tacking up others on the walls that seemed more ink blot than words. Sitting at a desk was a dark, orange-furred fellow, rapidly writing, grumbling, and keeping various papers around.
  “Er… Swift, right?” Itchy asked hesitantly, hoping he wasn’t interrupting.
  Pausing in his work, the sitting canine turned in his seat and flashed a big smile. “That’s the name, you pay I’ll sing or if you don’t like me I’ll howl ‘til you do.” He said, chuckling.
  “Right. Anyway, Charlie wanted me to come down and get your rent for this month?” Itchy said, looking around at all the papers.
  Tossing a bag of bones to the small dog, Swift noted his curious, and slightly disgruntled, look. “Sorry about the mess, I’ve been trying my hardest to come up with a song as my opening gig. First impressions are always the biggest and all, and I can’t entertain until I know what I’m doing.”
  “And the ones being tacked up aren’t good?” The wiener dog asked, looking them over.
  “Those have potential, but aren’t even close.” The Singing Dog shook his head a bit. “Thankfully my daughter knows quality, so even if I don’t see it she does.”
  Walking over to Itchy, the young female whispered to him, “He’s a bit modest, he doesn’t see the talent in his own work, so he needs a bit of a nudge.”
  Nodding in understanding, Itchy picked up the bag. “Well, I hope you’ll come up with something Mister Swift, Charlie seemed really eager to have you play.”
  “Thanks, I’ll try as fast as possible.” Swift said, tossing another paper away.
  When Itchy left, Tefa, the female, stepped up to her father’s side and looked down at the new blank sheet of paper. “What are you looking for specifically, dad?”
  “I don’t know, Tefa.” Swift said, rubbing his head and frowning. “I’m trying to write something upbeat for our first act, but…”
  “But there is something in the air?” She said, knowing that’s what most said when something felt wrong.
  “Tragedy, I can smell it a mile off.” The Singing Dog said, looking at her. “Ever since your accident…” He paused and his ears drooped, but he shook it off. “I’ve had a sense for that sort of thing, so I can’t shake it off.”
  Nodding, Tefa pulled him away from his desk. “Maybe you should sleep it off, see if it’ll be better tomorrow.”
  Nodding, Swift went to the couch and hopped up, getting comfortable to get a nap in. Though he could feel it, it wouldn’t be any better tomorrow. In fact, he had a feeling that would be the catalyst to get the ball rolling downhill.

  When Itchy had gone downstairs, Charlie waited a few minutes to let Itchy get far enough, then leaving himself. Due to his longer stride, he took it slow, thinking about what he would say to Andrew. His son hadn’t been eating much and was spending most of his time in his room. Though it had only been a few days, Andrew seemed stressed and seemed to be losing weight.
  Reaching the floor where Andrew’s room was, he heard the same thing Itchy had: his son muttering and grumbling to himself, though what it was he couldn’t tell, the sounds muffled by the door. He knocked a few times, and the muttering stopped.
  “Go away, I’m busy.” Andrew barked in agitation. Charlie frowned and knocked firmer, not wanting to leave until he talked with Andrew. “I said go away!”
  “I’m not leaving until we talk Andrew.” Charlie growled, ready to kick the door down if he had to.
  A huff of irritation came from the other side of the door, and a lock clicked, but didn’t open. Charlie turned the handle and it moved, and he stepped inside, his son hopping onto his bed as he came in. The floor looked like it had been swept up, which was unusual for Andrew but he ignored it.
  “What do you want, dad?” Andrew asked, eyes narrowed impatiently.
  “Andrew, your mother and I are worried about you.” Charlie said, sitting in front of the door. “You’ve hardly eaten since you found out that Sam had a mate, hung out up here, you hardly leave except at night.”
  “I’m okay dad, just been busy up here.”
  “Busy with what?”
  “It’s none of your business.” Andrew snapped. “Look, is that all?”
  Charlie raised an eyebrow, frowning. “What has gotten into you, son? You’ve been snippy every day at everyone but your mother, but you practically avoid her.”
  “Nothing has gotten into me, okay, I just want to be by myself.”
  “Which is still unlike you, pup.” Charlie growled. “Stop being stubborn Andrew, you wanted Sam to hang with you because you didn’t want to be by yourself, and now you’ve stopped eating well and you seem sick and want to be alone.” Charlie stomped his paw down for emphasis. “Fess up, Andrew.”
  “There is nothing to fess up to, dad. Now please do me a favor and get the hell out!” Andrew snarled, dragging his dusty covers over himself to hide from his father. Charlie glared at the lump that was his son before he sighed in frustration, shaking his head.
  As he turned to leave he looked back once more, speaking. “We care about you Andrew, and we’re worried. We love you, and want to be here. Just know that.” Turning back around, he left the room, shutting the door behind him.
  As he stepped to the stairs, he nearly bumped into Itchy, who was coming up with the bones. “Oh, sorry Itch…” He said, seeming distracted.
  “No problem Charlie.” Itchy said, looking up at the old mutt. He saw the look on his face and tilted his head. “How’d it go?” He asked, knowing he