soap's gonna keep me clean."

"But you kept the collar!" Collette pointed out, eyes fixed on his shining red one. "And a licsense!"

Fang rolled his eyes. "Look, girls. I can't get the stupid thing off, that's all. It ain't like I wanna wear it!"

"Whatever you say." Annette shrugged. Collette copied her.

"Here it is!" Danielle called out. A foot ahead, she stood proudly at the doghouse entrance, her paws hidden by the grass Jim Dear had blatantly forgotten to cut.

Fang humored the triplets, ducking into the doghouse, surveying the soft little throwrug on the floor of it, the blue wooden walls, the roof so patched up it wouldn't leak.

He stepped out. The girls were awaiting his reaction with eager anticipation. He shrugged, forcing a smile. "Cozy." They squealed. A stream of steady chatter, then arguing, followed shortly thereafter.

"Pssst! Fang! Fang, over here!"

Fang's head jerked. Could it be? That voice! Oh, yeah! Music to my ears!

Two heads showed from the other side of the fence, through that one fatal hole in it.

"Uh, you gals go on inside. I'll catch up." Fang nodded to the door on the porch. The girls let out whines, which began to test his patience, and then gave up and went inside.

Fang's tail wagged ninety-miles-an-hour as he sprang toward the fence. His leg gave way, the injured one again. He barked in pain, then stood up again, trying to recover and hoping his visitors hadn't noticed.

"Hey, gang, how's pickin's?" He coughed.

"Fang! You're okay!" Rose cried, pulling herself underneath the fence and into the yard, hurling herself at him.

Usually he wouldn't have given her a second thought, but he'd actually missed them--the company of real dogs--that he was even happy to see Rose.

She bowled him over, licking his face rapidly. He shoved her off, injured paw spiking stinging pain through his thighs. He yelped, then clamped his mouth shut, gritting his teeth and trying to pretend he hadn't.

"You're hurt!" Afghanna pushed underneath the fence, through the hole, and into the grassy front yard, bolting toward him and dragging Rose a few feet away by the scruff of her neck. "Lay off, kid, he's in bad shape!"

"You mean worse shape than before?" Skip grunted, squeezing through the hole in the fence and joining them.

"Hey, Skipper, how's it goin' Affy?" Fang sat up, lifting his injured paw off of the ground, wincing at the throbbing. "Naw, this? Just a sprain. Honest."

"It's a cast, Fang. It's broken, isn't it?" Afghanna sniffed at it worriedly.

"They treating you okay here?" Skip asked, looking with obvious disdain at the Darling house.

"It's been a nightmare, Skip, lemme tell ya. Moldy food, cushioned beds--in a basket, for cryin' out loud--baths--"

"You can cut the act, Fang, it's okay. We're your friends." Afghanna frowned at him.

Fang's eyes popped open. "Huh?"

"We saw you with those Spaniels. They took a shine to you. You treated them like--well--sisters."

"Like family, y'mean?" Fang spat the word out like it was poison. "Yeah right! I hadda get 'em off my tail. Don't get the wrong idea, Affy, I ain't a House Pet."

"Oh, you're not?" Skip growled sarcastically.

"Precisely. Ease up, knucklehead." Fang growled right back at him, louder.

"Fang," Afghanna said gently. "You're wearing a collar."

Fang glared at his new collar with more hatred than ever before. "Yeah? So?"

"Why didn't you take it off?" Rose asked, cocking her head. Her eyes were dark, with an emotion he couldn't read.

"I can't," Fang said simply. "Won't come off."

"Angel's could. Scamp's did. Why not yours?" Skip snarled suspiciously.

"If yer sayin' I kept it on 'cuz I wanted to, you've got a serious mental issues, pal," Fang snapped.

"You don't want to stay here?" Rose demanded, no hint of a smile, eyes still cold, her face a picture of anger. "With your precious Angel?"

Fang's heart pounded. "No way."

"Really?" Afghanna countered. She edged to the hole in the fence. The other two followed. "Then come with us."

"Uh...huh?" Fang blinked slowly.

"Prove you really hate it here--with them--and come back to the streets with us. Didn't you always tell us this was the wrong side of the tracks for our kind?" Afghanna wasn't smiling either. She looked calm, neutral.

Fang leaned away. "I, er, yeah, I did, but..."

"But what?" Skip scowled at him. "What's so hard about this?"

"Please?" Rose's blue eyes were wide and begging.

Fang kept his own gaze on Afghanna.

"Choose, Fang. You can't have both," Afghanna murmured.

Fang looked back at the house. Then back at his friends, his gang. Back to the house. His gang. He stifled a sigh. "A'ight, a'ight, I'm comin'. Move over."

They all parted to let him through. Fang limped to the hole, sliding onto his belly, ears lifting on his head. His dumb collar tightened, making the fur around his neck hot. He tride to slide through--his shoulders were too broad to make it through the hole, as usual, so he wouldn't be able to get through without sliding his front paws forward.

But one of those paws were broken just now.

"Yipe!" Fang cried out, gritting his teeth and jerked backward, tumbling into the yard.

Rose rushed towards him. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah yeah, I'm fine," Fang sucking in through his teeth and lifting his casted paw off the grass, squeezing his eyes shut and letting out a tiny, short, "Ah," after sucking in air. So, if you want specifics, it sounded like this: "Sst-ah".

"You're not fine, you're hurt," Skip said matter-of-factly, circling Fang and stopping at his right.

"I told ya, Skipper, I'm--" Fang stopped, whining softly as a random jolt of pain shot up her foreleg.

"Fang? Can you still make it out?" Afghanna asked. She knew the answer; it was obvious that if he pushed hard enough, he could.

Fang knew it too. But before he knew what he was saying, he barked, "Nah, I don't think so, Affy. I think I'll stick around this prison awhile longer, just till, y'know, the end o' the week. My leg'll be fine then."

Skipper, Rose, and Afghanna all stared at him coldly. They gathered at the hole in the fence, blinking at him.

"We both know you coulda made it out," Skip growled before ducking underneath the fence and dissapearing.

Rose glanced at Fang, eyes dark, then at Afghanna, then squeezed through the hole and wasn't visible again.

Afghanna turned to go.

"A-Affy," Fang blurted, wincing as he raised his injured paw higher.

"You could've made it," Afghanna murmured. "You chose to stay."

"Nah, it ain't like that, I'm--" Fang protested, breaking off and trying again. "I want--"

"I get it, Fang. Don't worry." Afghanna crouched, the front half of her body lowered, ready to go under the fence. "Hey, you're lucky. No one else in your precious 'gang' was wanted. Look at you now." She gave him a sad half-smile, but it was a weak attempt.

She was looking just below his head. Fang followed her gaze to his scarlet-red collar.

"Afghanna," he pleaded, losing it. "Wait. I wanna come, don'get me wrong," he cleared his throat, eyes desperate, "I ain't a House Pet, Affy, c'mon."

"You made it pretty clear which side of the tracks you belong on now," Afghanna interrupted again. "We had a great run. Maybe we'll..." she paused, eyes misty, "...ahem, maybe we'll catch you later."

"Affy," Fang murmured. "Don't go, Aff', I promise I don't wanna..."

"Just don't forget us. Okay?" Afghanna smiled, eyes wet, and ducked under the fence.

Fang stumbled toward the hole, squeezing his head under. "Guys? Wait, gang, don't go!" He strained to see them around the corner, down the alley, anywhere. They were gone.

He pulled out, backward-tumbling into the grassy yard again. He got up, wincing at his paw. "No, no, no no no!" he snarled, baring his teeth. "It ain't endin' like this!"

He crouched, pushing again with his hind paws against that idiot red collar that ruined everything. He shifted his weight to his uninjured paw. How did he do it with Angel, when he had tried to be all heroic and save her from the dogcatcher--a plan he had hatched and put together?

Oh yeah!

He bent his head, forcing his neck fur to lie flat. He pushed as hard as he could with his hind legs.

Fwhoop! Tingle-ing!

The collar slipped off, turning over in the air and landing with a jangle in the grass a few feet away.

Yes!!

Fang grinned slyly, and limped to the hole in the fence. He crouched, trying to see through it. Getting underneath wasn't an option anymore. His gang still hadn't reappeared. If only they could see him now, without that collar, remember what he used to be! He wasn't a House Dog. He belonged on the streets, leading a gang of skilled pups, dogs who knew what it was