It was late afternoon in the little English town, and the weary golden sun had begun to sink its way down over the horizon.

Everyone was settling in for the evening. Children were called back inside for dinner, men were making their ways home from a hard day at work, and women were retiring from all of their household chores for the day.

Outside of town, a small golden little dog was wandering about. She wore a tattered lavender scarf that seemed to match her eyes. The little dog seemed to be searching for something.

“Urgh… where did Peg say that place was?” She wrinkled her nose, trying to remember to the best of her ability. “It’s supposed to be right outside town…”

Lilah had been wandering all day, and her paws had grown sore. It wasn’t something out of the ordinary; she was a street dog who had grown used to it. Besides, she had worse to worry about, like the dogcatcher, or filling her belly every day. Speaking of dogcatcher… Lilah stopped in her tracks to watch the comical scene before her.

A large black and brown dog was running about madly, his tongue lolling. He was a pretty big dog, looked like a Doberman and a Rottweiler mix. He seemed to be having a good time, barking and laughing as the dogcatcher chased him about rather awkwardly, shouting and threatening him.

“Oh, get back here, you!” He called, waving his arms in the air. The dog had no effect, and even snatched up the man’s hat, chuckling.

“Now you’ve done it!” He raged, taking out his net to somehow seize the dog. “Now get back here, and while you’re at it, give me that hat, too!”

The dog stopped in his tracks, now noticing Lilah. He grinned, flipped the hat up into the air, and caught it again with his mouth. “Hey, kid!” Lilah frowned. “I’m NOT a kid!” She growled under her breath. “Ah, whatever, kid. Think you can help Buster out here?”

Lilah paused. She knew the name sounded familiar, but it rang no bell. Maybe it would come to her soon enough. “Uh, looks like you got it pretty controlled there, Buster.” She remarked. The dog grinned down at her, then glanced up to see the dogcatcher making his way over still. “Ya got spunk! I like that, kid.” Lilah frowned again. “Say, what’s your name, anyways?” Lilah looked over to the dogcatcher, then back to Buster. “Lilah, and don’t you forget it.” Buster’s grin widened. “Alright, alright, kid. Ya done impressed me. Even for a little dog like you, you ain’t bad.” Lilah smirked. “Thanks, but I didn’t need your approval. Now, did you need my help, or not? ‘Cause, I think your little friend’s coming over here.”

She motioned her head over to the dogcatcher, who was only a few steps away. “Ah who, him?” Buster snorted, amused. “Ya think I’m REALLY in trouble? Ha, rich, kid!” He lept back, and barked at the man, who yelped out and stumbled back, nearly falling flat on his back. “The king of the junkyard dogs is always quick on his paws!” He smirked to himself; Buster liked how he made it rhyme. “Oh, I see.” Lilah smiled herself, rolling her eyes. “Oh, yeah? Feast your eyes on this one, kid!”

The large mix tossed all of his body into a charge. Lilah's fur even blew back by the impact, and she kept an eye on the dog. Buster bounded towards the dogcatcher, who was dumbstruck at what was going on, but when the dog was bolting his way, he began to cower. Buster released his jaws on the hat, which whirled into the air, and fell flat on the man's head. Skidding to a stop, Buster stopped nearly inches away from the dogcatcher, who, wide-eyed, gulped, took one look at him, and ran skittishly to the saftey of his big, green chunky car. Hitting the gas, he sped out of the scene, leaving Buster to cackle victoriously to himself.

"Ha! Never gets old", he winked, and Lilah grinned. "I gotta admit, Buster. That was pretty cool." Buster nodded. "'Course it was! Me an' Tramp in the old days, we had fun like this all the time!" Lilah froze. "Wait... Did you just... The Tramp? You guys... He was YOUR friend?" Buster nodded, though a scowl was growing to replace his cheesy grin. "Yeah, but like I said kid, that was back in the day. Now he's gotta... HOME, with one of those...HOUSEdogs, Lady was her name. Met his son, too. Scamp. Seemed like the kid was gonna be alright, one of us, y'know? And then he just changes his mind!" Buster growled. "Can't believe it. So the kid ends up going home, going back to that spoiled life he had." Lilah rolled her eyes. "Those housedogs are so stupid!" She agreed. "They'd do anything for a pat on the head and a treat in their greedy jaws." Buster nodded. "Yup, seems like any of 'em nowadays want a home. But I tell ya, the REAL life's out here! No humans, no rules, no chains. All freedom, do as ya please! Aha haha..." Lilah chuckled. "So, Buster, then you live at the junkyard, then?" Buster nodded. "Yup, have my whole life. What, ya wanna see it or something?" Lilah grinned, her eyes wide with excitement. Her fluffly little tail wagged. "Yeah!" The bigger dog grinned. "Ah, alright. Follow me, then."

Evening was just around the corner when the two strays reached the junkyard. The stars were dim, but still noticable. The warm glow of the street lights had popped on too, filled on every street and corner. Buster sighed as they stood outside the junkyard, looking at it with a sense of pride. "Welp, here we are, kid. Good life lies just inside this place right here." Lilah held her breath, and followed him in.

Once they were inside the gates, she looked around, trembling with excitement. The entire place was littered and covered in, well, junk. Old, broken down sofas and chairs scattered about the area, springs hanging out and stuffing leaking out the sides. Tables were smashed in half and built up into heaps, moutains. The place was perfect for a street dog. "Woah!" Lilah grinned up at Buster. "And you LIVE here?" He nodded. "Yeah kid, told ya already." He flopped down on a scroungy sofa, chewing contently on an old slipper. Lilah took her surroundings in once more, still in awe. "Woah. Do-do you think... I could live here? And be a TRUE junkyard dog?" Buster stopped chewing, and frowned, thinking for a minute. "Nah", he answered plainly, leaving Lilah highly dissapointed. Her ears flopped down.

"Sorry kid, ya just don't got what it takes." Lilah felt a little bit of anger stir inside her. "What do you mean, 'what it takes'? I'm no different than you; I'm a street dog! I was born a street dog, always will be." Buster scoffed. "Yeah, I hear ya, kid." He sighed, used to this. "That's not fair!" She barked. "Awh, c'mon, kid. I mean, ah, look at you. You gotta collar thing, 'round your neck!" Lilah glared, filled with rage. "That was my MOTHER'S scarf"! She snapped in his face. "And it's not a silly collar, it's a scarf!" Buster layed his big head down, feeling a little bad for what he'd said. "Awh kid, I'm sorry", he replied, looking up at the little dog. Lilah's eyes seemed to have softened a little herself.

"Eh... I dunno", she replied. "It's really special to me." Buster nodded. "Yeah... Hm. Tell ya what, kid." Lilah paused. "Yeah?" "Hm. If you can prove a feat, somethin' that'll get my attention pretty good, then you'll be a junkyard dog." He grinned. "Really?!" Lilah's tail wagged excitedly again.

"Yeah, but I gotta see it." Lilah nodded, and began to make her way back outside of the gates. "Thanks, Buster! You bet! I won't give up." She smirked, and trotted out.

Buster grinned, rolling his eyes, and layed his head back down again. "I know ya won't, kid. I know ya won't."

~End