{Part 1: Chapters 2-3}
by Doverstar
The streets of a certain little town were normally busy, children scuttling about, playing with various items. In a deserted alley, a trash can had objects flying out of it, and the tin rattled. Something--some kind of creature--was inside the can.
The trash can tipped over with a clang!
"Oop--ahh, here we go!" Came a muffled bark. A furry, golden tail appeared out of the toppled-over trash can. The tail wagged, and out emerged a scruffy male stray pup, a Golden Retriever male. In his unusually large-for-a-puppy teeth he held an old steak, a piece of raw meat some human had thrown away by accident.
The Golden Retriever puppy snickered. "Nothin' but the best for Fang, ha ha!"
He retreated to a corner, dropping the steak at his paws. As he bent to eat it, he heard the wails of a female dog.
Fang--for of course that was his name--pressed himself against the alley wall, baring his uncanny sharp teeth. The dogcatcher's truck screeched past the alley. The cries distress came from the truck. Fang leaped out of the alley and into the dusty road, intrigued.
There, in the back of the dogcatcher's truck, was a pale-gold-furred pomeranian pup, about Fang's own age. Around her neck was a yellow collar, and she was sticking a cream-colored paw out of the wire-fence strung to the back of the truck.
"Help!" she cried.
Fang arched a brow. "She's off to the pound, huh." He shook himself. "Not much I can do about it."
He turned to go back into the alley and finish his steak. Although, as he walked, he couldn't get the pomeranian's picture out of his head. She had been pretty. With blue-violet eyes, he'd guess. He was partial to blue eyes. And fluffy tails.
Before he knew it, Fang was following the dogcatcher's truck. Then again, he thought cockily, rescuing damsels in distress is my specialty.
*****************************************
Fang snuck into the pound when the dogcatcher had checked the pomeranian's licsense on her yellow collar. The dogcatcher had walked out, presumably to phone the pomeranian pup's owners. Fang snorted. House Dogs. They were all the same.
But this one, he reflected, studying the female pup from the doorway, where he stuck his head out of, this one's different. She sat close to the bars of her cage/cell, ears drooped and her muzzle set in a frustrated line. She didn't seem scared, just angry. She obviously didn't think she would wind up here, in the pound, and didn't intend to return. She just wanted out, Fang concluded, and he was going to be the one to free her before the dogcatcher could take her back to her snobby little family.
He padded into the pound cautiously, trying to ignore the pitiful wails and stares he was given from the other dogs caged up. His eyes were on the pomeranian.
"Psst!" he whispered.
The girl pomeranian pup didn't glance his way.
"Hey! Pssst!" Fang repeated, taking a few pawsteps toward her cell.
The pomeranian finally looked up, eyes lighting up when she noticed him padding toward her. She stood up, curled tail wagging. Her eyelids drooped halfway.
"Hiya, Street Dog," she barked in a middle-toned woof. "Who're you?"
"Name's Fang, missy," Fang winked flirtatiously in her direction. "But you can refer to me as your hero."
The pomeranian snorted a laugh. "Keep telling yourself that. Here to get me out, are you?"
"Seeing's as I'm the only one here who knows how to pop the lock," Fang answered smoothly, padding up until he was directly in front of her, with only the bars to keep them apart.
"Well then, Fang," she said, rearing up onto her hind legs, "don't hold your breath." With a flick of her nose she shoved the lock off its holder and butted the door open with her head. It swung slightly, and Fang leapt out of the way, eyes widening in admiration.
"He-hey," he chuckled. "I like you already." He escorted her to the door. "Like I said, my name's Fang."
"Angel," she replied, pushing her way out of the pound doors and making her way across the dirt road to the nearest line of trees and bushes.
Fang followed, moving quickly. He didn't want to be there when the dogcatcher found Angel missing.
They took shelter in the woods. Fang sat down and scratched an ear, but Angel kept walking, obviously determined to get to the town, which was only a good 20 minutes away. Fang sat up, walking alongside her.
He sprang in front of her, so that she halted.
"So, uh," he sat down again, refusing to let her keep walking. He wanted to make conversation; make an impressive first impression, as it were. "If you could've gotten out yourself, doll, why'd you sit there moping?"
Angel shrugged. "I figured I'd let the dogcatcher take me home, but thanks to you, I'll be walking."
Fang grunted good-naturedly. "Happy to help."
Angel laughed, but only slightly. She tried edging around him. "Thanks again, huh? I've got to get back to my family, so..."
"Woah, woah, woah," Fang stood now, still blocking her path. "Why not stick around?" He wiggled his eyebrows, grinning, showing his infamous fangs. "I can show you life on the streets."
Angel's blue eyes darkened. "Thanks, Street Pup, but I already know that life," her voice hardened and she got past him, walking determindely in the direction of the town, "and I'm never going back."
Fang's tail wagged. He seemed to be falling for this female more than any of the others he'd met. She was similar to him, and he couldn't help but admire her. She sure was cute, too.
"What d'you mean?" he asked, walking with her.
"The streets aren't for me." Angel replied steadily. "I have a family--I've had five, but the Darlings' are the ones I know won't leave me behind."
Fang panted, laughing. "Sure, sure. Whatever you say."
Angel glared at him. "They won't! They have more dogs than most families, and I'm one of them. You can't convince me otherwise, so back off."
Fang stopped laughing and grew serious. "Hey, hey, doll, I didn't mean it like that." He began scratching an ear with his hind paw. "It's just, I've met dogs--" he didn't mention they were all mostly girl dogs "--who've been out on the streets so long they've forgotten they ever had a family. One day," he stopped scratching and looked at her, "it could happen to you. Better to save yourself the heartbreak, eh, doll?"
Angel scoffed and pushed past him, heading to the spot between the trees where you could see the little houses and fenced-in trees. Fang watched her for a moment, confused. He didn't get it. Why would any dog, much less a class-act gorgeous one like Angel, want to stay with humans? They were nothing but trouble.
But he decided he'd at least escort Angel home. Maybe she'd change her mind on the way if he threw on a little charm.
******************************************************
"This is where you live?" Fang asked Angel as they strolled through her neighborhood, keeping onto the sidewalk.
"Home sweet home," said Angel. "Snob Hill, right?"
"I wasn't gonna say it," Fang grinned.
Angel chuckled and the two pups kept going. As soon as they got to the fence of Angel's house, barking could be heard. Fang crouched, trying to make himself small. He hid behind the white fence and blinked, peeking through the cracks of the fence's wooden boards.
Dogs streamed into the yard, barking hysterically and surrounding Angel, along with two humans and their little toddler son, Junior.
It was clear to Fang that Angel most certainly wasn't the only dog living there. There was Lady, the pretty Cocker Spaniel mother, Tramp, the mutt of a father, the three triplet Cocker Spaniel girls--whom Fang thought were stunningly gorgeous, but not quite as beautiful as Angel--and if things didn't work out between he and Angel, he had a few opening lines to deliver to the one in the red collar--Colette, wasn't it? Then he saw Scamp. The pup was out of control, in his opinion. But Angel seemed to adore him. Fang bristled. She already had a love interest? This he had to fix. He wasn't going to lose Angel without a fight.
Then something hit him. He stared at the dog called Tramp. Could it be? Could the dog he had heard so much about be alive and well--and living the House Dog life? It couldn't be true! The Tramp was Fang's hero! He couldn't have chosen the life on the end of a chain. Fang narrowed his eyes and gritted his teeth at the sight of the red collar around Tramp's neck. His opinion of the Tramp dropped to his toes and he let out a growl. He would never plant idolization on anyone ever again. He couldn't trust that person to be what he thought they'd be. From now on, the only dog to look up to in his mind was himself!
The dogs began to go inside, with the human called Jim Dear clapping his hands and saying it was time for a bath. Fang snorted. Baths! Who needed them? Soap, water, the whole nine yards was a waste of time. Gimme a swim in the park pond any day.
His long golden ears pricked up when he saw that Scamp wasn't going inside. There was a scowl on the young pup's muzzle, and his ears drooped. Fang sneered. The pup was afraid of a bath.
Angel stopped at the doorway. "You comin', Tenderfoot?" she asked.
Scamp blinked. "I'll, uh, catch up."
Angel smiled wryly. "You'll have to take one sooner or later."
As she left, Scamp muttered under his breath, "I prefer later."
Fang thought that this was the perfect time to make his move. With no owners or other dogs around in the yard, he slid through the opening in the fence, where obviously some dog had dug a hole a long time ago. It smelled of Scamp. Fang grunted.
"Hey! Bone-breath. Pst!" Fang growled in a low voice.
Scamp turned and yelped in surprise. Fang let out a short laugh. Typical house pet.
"Who're you?" Scamp asked, tail lowering.
"Name's Fang."
Scamp's tongue lolled out, panting. He smiled as he panted. "I'm--"
"Scamp, I know." Fang circled the mutt-pup, limbs tense and poised to pounce. A wicked smirk was on his muzzle. "You've got it good here, don't ya, House Dog?"
Scamp raised his head. "This is home for me."
"Oh, I ain't talkin' about the house, mutt. Or the humans. No, I'm talkin' about dollface in there." He pointed his nose to the door of the house.
Scamp cocked his head, one eye squinted slightly.
"You know. Blue eyes, puffy tail, yellow collar? Crooked ear?" Fang tried.
Recognition and guarded hostility lit in Scamp's brown eyes. "Angel?"
"That's her. You've got the good life, hanging with her all the time."
"Yeah, she's great." Scamp lifted his chin proudly. "So, uh, you're a street dog?"
"Huh!" Fang grinned boastfully. "Wrong again, house pet. I'm the street dog. Or street pup." He scratched his ear with a hind paw. "Whatever you wanna call it."
"Then you've met Buster?" Scamp's tone darkened.
Fang raised an eyebrow. "Heard of him, but never met 'im. I guess you have?"
"Buster's nothing but trouble." Scamp said immediately. "I'd stay away from him if I were you."
"But you ain't me, House Dog." Fang stood now, showing his famous fangs. "And that's too bad for you now, 'cuz I'm fixing to tear you apart."
Scamp flinched, but stood his ground bravely. "I can pin you with one jump," he bragged. But his eyes were wider than they should've been, betraying his fear.
"You're welcome to try," Fang sneered, drawing himself up to his full height, a head taller than Scamp.
Fang lunged, and Scamp bolted across the yard, the golden retriever pup right on his heels. Finally Fang backed him up against the wooden wall inside the doghouse, baring his teeth and about to move in for the fatal bite.
"Scamp! What's going on out here? Scamp!"
Jim Dear's voice rang across the yard from the porch. Fang froze. Scamp got a triumphant look in his eyes, refusing now to crouch. Fang turned and ran out of the doghouse and through the opening in the fence, not caring if Jim Dear had seen him.
Scamp crept out of the doghouse, looking around for Fang.
Fang panted, growling with frustration. His head was in the opening in the fence as he watched Scamp.
Jim Dear called Scamp again and disappeared into the house.
As Scamp turned to go inside, he stopped on the steps and took one last look around.
"Hey, chew toy!" Fang hissed from the fenceposts.
Scamp lifted his ears, wincing when he spotted Fang.
"I'll be back. This ain't over. Stay away from Angel, got that? Expect me sometime. And don't forget to watch your back, House Dog."
With that, Fang left.
"Skip, cut that out!" Afghanna covered her ears with her front paws where she lay on a rock. She was an african shepherd hound mix, and always knew where to find good bones--or any food, really. And then, of course, there was Skip, the yellow labrador mutt. He, at the moment, was barking his head off at a squirrel that had scurried up a tree.
Fang was swimming in the pond nearby, watching his friends and enjoying the feeling of the sun on his back as his paws moved expertly underwater, keeping him afloat. Nothing like a good swim on a hot summer morning. Especially a swim in the park, on a Sunday when it was closed. Closed to everyone, that was, except the dogs who knew how to get in.
It was three days after Fang had "rescued" Angel from the pound and encountered Scamp. He was still fuming over it.
He climbed out of the pond and shook his golden fur dry, ears flapping. He trotted with lazy movement over to where Afghanna sunbathed on a rock, a bone in between her front paws as she gnawed on it.
"Hey, Affy," Fang greeted her, "whaddaya say you share with the class, eh? Toss the bone this way."
Afghanna raised her head and turned her mismatched eyes on him, growling, "Don't call me that." She returned to chewing her bone.
This only intrigued the flirtatious golden retriever. He hopped onto the rock with an impressive spring and sat down beside her. He was still a bit wet; he shook himself again.
"Ugh--Fang! You're getting me wet!" Afghanna sat up, shaking herself just as he had a moment ago. She pushed at him with one paw. "Shove off, will you?"
"You don't mean that, Affy," Fang chuckled. "You know you're nuts about me."
"Oh, please," Afghanna grumbled. "Go take a long walk off a short cliff." She turned her head away from him and chewed on the bone. "And stop calling me Affy."
Skip stopped barking at the squirrel and padded through the grass to sit at the base of the rock. He began scratching an ear with his hind leg. His eybrows were knitted together in a dark line, as usual, warning all sunshine and happiness to back off.
Fang nudged Afghanna with a shoulder. "Did I tell you I met another dog yesterday?"
Afghanna ignored him. Skip continued scratching.
Fang couldn't handle not having their undivided attention. "She was a House Dog."
Skip stopped scratching. "House Dog?"
Afghanna looked at Fang. "She?"
Fang smirked at her irritatingly. "Jealous now? Yep, she was on her way to the slammer."
Skip scowled. "The pound? Didn't she have a collar?"
"Oh, she had one." Fang winked down at him. "Before the dogcatcher could take 'er home, I sprang her loose--and she fell for me right away." Okay, not completely true, but what his friends didn't know wouldn't hurt them, right?
"She fell"--Afghanna snorted a laugh and smothered her mouth with a paw--"for you? Yeah, right."
"I know, I know," Fang closed his eyes and grinned. "You wish it wasn't true, Afghanna, but she was quite a looker. Cute, real cute. Goes by the name of Angel. Dare I say it, she may even have been prettier than you, Affy."
He immediately knew he had said the wrong thing. Afghanna had issues with her appearance, being a female, and a stray at that. At least, that was the way Fang saw it.
"Here it comes," warned Skip. "Look out." He smiled, a rare thing for him, at Fang.
Afghanna sprang to her paws and thrust her nose in Fang's face. "My name is Afghanna, you bonehead, not Affy! Call me that again and you'll be nursing a broken leg--maybe several broken legs. Get it?"
Fang, not fazed, smiled devilishly at her, "Got it."
"Good." She sat down again.
"It might interest you two to know that I had a run-in with an interesting mutt at Angel's place," Fang continued cockily.
"You said 'interesting' twice," Skip pointed out dryly.
"Thank you, Captain Obvious, your work is finished here," Fang growled to the slightly-younger pup. "And for your information, I said 'interest' once, and 'interesting' once."
Skip rolled his eyes. "Whatever."
"As I was sayin'," Fang woofed, "I met an interesting mutt at Angel's cozy li'l house pet home."
"Who?" Afghanna raised her head and looked at him.
"Nobody in particular. A ledgend, nothin' special."
"Tell us already!" Skip snarled.
Fang lifted a paw. "Okay, okay." He closed his eyes, paused for dramatic effect, and his eyes popped open again as he said, "The Tramp."
Skip and Afghanna were instantly alert. Skip scrambled up onto the rock, green eyes wide.
"The Tramp?" said Afghanna.
"In a house?" said Skip, disbelieveingly.
"With a collar?" said Afghanna.
"No way!" Skip stated..
"Never could happen," Afghanna shook her head stubbornly.
"Yep, yep, yep, yes way, and yeah it could happen," Fang sneered with a nod at every answer. "I saw 'im with my own eyes. They even called him Tramp."
"So?" asked Skip.
"What's he like?" Afghanna breathed.
"Y'know those stories ol' Sparky used to tell us?" Fang scratched at his side with his back left paw.
"Yeah?"
"Forget 'em." Fang glanced at each of them in turn. "He's a pillow-sleepin', bath-takin', collar-wearin' dipstick with a cushy little family and a house with a fence. He's got no class, no moves, an' no mind of his own. That's what the Tramp's become." Fang finished dramatically, satisfied.
Afghanna lowered her head, eyes downcast. Even Fang looked dissapointed, and his expression was almost always grumpy.
"Listen," Skip growled. "Forget the Tramp. He's just an old alpha's tale. He never did exist, and if he did, he's not a mutt I'd wanna meet anyway."
Afghanna didn't answer.
Fang felt like cheering his pals up. He got an idea, and his eyes lit up. "But," he announced with a pause, waiting for their reactions.
Afghanna's head shot up. Skip's ears lifted. "But?"
"But he has pups." Fang wriggled his eyebrows. "Four of 'em. And a stunnin' beauty for a mate they call Lady."
"Really?" Afghanna panted, smiling. "Can we see them? Do you know where they live?"
"'Course I do." Fang threw up his head, letting the sun catch his fur and turn it fiery yellow. He loved to show off. He thought of Skip, Afghanna, and any other pups who cared to hang around him as part of his gang. And he considered himself their leader. "I've been there, remember? When d'ya wanna go?"
"Now?" Afghanna glanced at Skip.
"Yeah, now!" Skip nodded to Fang. He could be grumpy, but right now he was too excited. "Let's see this Tramp. Prove he's real."
"And you'll take back everything you said about him? About how he ain't real?" Fang leaned close to the yellow lab pup.
"Deal." Skip grumbled.
"Okay," Fang lifted his nose into the air, sniffing. "Follow my lead."
"This is it, gang, home of the Tramp." Fang nodded to the magnificent house in front of them.
Afghanna drew her head back. "I've been here! I've seen the pups that live here!"
Skip stiffened. "You have, have you?" He sneered at Fang. "And is the Tramp here?"
"I--I've never seen him. He might be." Afghanna glanced at Fang. "Are you pulling our tails, Fang, or are you serious about this? The pups I've seen here are nothing short of liscensed purebreds."
"Which one's have ya seen?" Fang asked smoothly.
"Only three of them. They all looked the same, Cocker Spaniel girls."
"Then that's only half the family," Fang began deepening the hole by the opening in the fence, digging with his front paws to let all three of them through at the same time, with more room. "No, better yet, make that a quarter of the family." He paused his digging to look at Afghanna. "You'll see what I mean in a sec."
Afghanna nudged him aside with her long, refined nose and began digging where he had left off. "Step aside and let a pro show you how it's done."
She dug until it was big enough. The three pups squeezed through the opening in the fence and hid behind the doghouse.
"Careful," warned Fang. "They might run us out."
"House Dogs, run us out?" Skip growled. "I'd like t'see them try."
"Not the dogs, you moron," Fang snapped over his shoulder at him. "The humans."
"They'll be even easier than the mutts," Afghanna muttered, agreeing with Skip.
"Put a muzzle on it, you guys," Fang hissed. "They're comin'."
A creaking sound came from the front porch as a dog stepped out. It was Lady.
"Doggie door," grunted Afghanna, whispering. "Typical."
"Shhh!" Fang glared at her uncharacteristically.
Lady poked her head back inside the house through the dog door. "Tramp!" the pups heard her call. "Tramp come out here! It's a beautiful day!"
Afghanna and Skip tensed at the name of the ledgend.
Then, in all his tall, nimble glory, the Tramp appeared. He looked just as the three stray puppies had imagined him. Fang, who was seeing him for the second time ever, showed his teeth at the pale-red collar around the Tramp's neck.
"Morning, pigeon," Tramp yawned and stretched next to Lady. "Some day, huh?"
"Absolutely," Lady agreed. "Will you bring the pups out.
"No problem." Tramp disappeared into the house through the dog door.
Afghanna and Skip turned to Fang, awe-stricken. "The Tramp!" they both whispered excitedly.
"What'd I tell ya?" Fang rolled over onto his back, turning left and right to get at an itch on his left side.
"Can we go and meet them?" Afghanna pleaded.
"Not yet, Affy--I mean, Afghanna." Fang checked himself quickly. "Wait a while."
Tramp and the pups were soon out, romping in the grass. Fang and his friends had to duck a few times to avoid being seen.
"You didn't tell us the Tramp had a son!" Afghanna whispered to Fang, batting her eyelashes when she saw Scamp. "I wonder if he's anything like his dad?"
"We should find out," Skip growled, beginning to walk out into the open.
Before he could be seen, Fang grabbed Skip's tail in a flurry with his teeth and dragged him back.
"You meathead!" Fang snarled between a mouthful of yellow labrador fur, crouching, muscles bunched. "You're gonna get us caught!" His words were muffled.
Skip yelped in sudden pain as Fang's famous sharper-than-the-average-retriever teeth closed around his tail.
Afghanna flinched.
Lady raised her head, hearing the yelp. The rest of her doggie family hadn't seemed to hear. She padded down the porch steps and trotted to the side of the doghouse, sniffing. She stopped dead. She had caught the scent of stray dogs. She trotted carefully around the corner of the doghouse, peering behind it. She stiffened. There, in a crouching, quivering bundle of matted fur and garbage-smelling scents, were Fang, Afghanna, and Skip, who was licking at his bruised tail. He stopped midlick when he saw Lady staring at them.
"Tramp!" Lady began barking. "Tramp, come over here and have a look at this!"
The Tramp came at a run. "What is it, pidge?" Then he spotted the three pups. "Uh-oh," he chuckled. With his voice, it sounded like 'oh-oh'.
"What's up, Pop?" Scamp joined his parents, tongue hanging out in a doggie grin. The grin faded and his mouth closed as he saw--and recognized--Fang. "Uh...er..." He crouched, ears drooping, chuckling nervously with his teeth showing by the side of his mouth, and began to back away slowly.
Presently Angel and the three triplet Cocker Spaniels, Colette, Annette, and Danielle joined them.
Angel gasped. "Fang?"
"Looks like we got a couple of stray pups joining us for breakfast," Tramp winked at the family slyly.
"Uh, uh, yeah," Scamp continued to nervously laugh.
Danielle, the one with the white collar, cackled mischieviously. Her tongue hung unattractively out of the side of her mouth as she spoke: "Hiding from Jim Dear, I bet! They are in so much trouble!"
Annette, the one wearing the blue collar, rolled her eyes and curled her lip. "They smell like they need baths--every hour for a week!"
Afghanna came out of her stupor and went nose-to-nose with the prissy Cocker Spaniel pup. "You don't smell like a bowlful of roses yourself, pedigree-warbler," she growled low, warning Annette to steer clear.
"Calm down now," Tramp pushed himself in between the stray and his daughter. "So," he said to the street pups, "Tell us about yourselves. Matter of fact, you can stay here for a while. Just play with the pups in the backyard."
Fang strolled forward, pulling one paw slowly in front of the other. His eyes closed with care-free expression, he drawled, "Name's Fang, and this's Skip." He gestured with his tail toward Skip, who grunted at the House Dogs and looked away.
Then Fang nodded towards Afghanna with a wink. "An' that's my girl Affy--goes by the name of Afghanna most of the time."
Afghanna moved forward as if to pounce on him, eyes flashing, but Angel padded up to her side and smiled. "Lemme guess," said Angel. "You're not his girl."
Afghanna smiled back.
"Lovely to meet you all," Lady announced sweetly. "These are my daughters. The one with the red collar is Collette, and the one with the blue is Annette. That's our youngest girl, Danielle."
The triplets either nodded or smiled to the strays politely, but Fang could see the three gorgeous Spaniel pups clearly dissaproved of having the mutts over for the morning. He'd turn on the charm for them later.
"My name is Lady, and this is my husband, Tramp." Lady nodded to the pups. "You're welcome to stay here as long as you like."
"Tell you what," Tramp interjected. "We'll have breakfast together, and if you stay long enough, lunch too."
Scamp was still backing away. Fang locked eyes with him and openly sneered.
"Oh, we almost forgot," Tramp nodded, oblivious to the hostility between his son and Fang. "Meet Scamp--he's the boy of family." He winked again. "Always in the doghouse, that one."
"And this is Angel," Lady interrupted, pointing with her nose at the gorgeous pomeranian pup. "She isn't related to us in general, but she's one of the family now."
Angel beamed, showing off a beautiful smile. Fang almost melted right then and there.
"Let's go to the backyard. Don't want Jim Dear waking up and seeing you three romping around in broad daylight, know what I mean?" Tramp panted, and led the pups and Lady to the backyard.
Fang glared daggers at Scamp as the scruffy turquoise-collared pup sat down beside Angel and did his signature scratch behind the left ear. Angel watched him, smiling. Fang decided it was time to cut in.
He pushed himself between Scamp and Angel, scooting Scamp out of the way with a hind leg. He turned his attention on Angel.
"Surprised to see me?" he panted, tongue lolling out, one eyebrow raised.
"Yeah," Angel muttered, squeezing up a smile. She looked around at the other dogs.
Afghanna was racing around the yard with a bone in her mouth. Skip and Danielle chased after her, determined to get the bone, but Afghanna was at least two feet ahead of them, long spotted legs stretching behind her. Scamp was watching Angel and Fang--mostly Fang, with a frustrated look in his brown eyes. Annette and Collette shot disgusted looks at the stray pups, sulking by a bush. Lady and Tramp sunbathed side by side next to the flower bed.
"Listen," Angel whispered to Fang, "you don't belong here. The Street life suits you. Just go home."
Fang scratched his long, golden ear casually. "No matter what y'say," he grinned, "you'll never be able to push me away. I'm stickin' around to keep an eye on your second shadow, get my meaning?"
Angel looked confused.
Fang sighed. He jerked his head toward Scamp.
Angel's eyes lit up. "Scamp? He's my best friend."
Fang held back a growl. "How so?"
"I know the life on the streets, Fang. You and your posse won't last long out there. You need a home, and a family that loves you."
Fang scoffed. "Yeah, an' a prissy little collar hangin' around my neck--while we're at it, how about a doggie door?" He laughed obnoxiously. "No thanks, doll. House Dog life ain't for me. 'Sides, what's this got to do with chew toy over there?" He gestured to Scamp again.
Angel sighed and began walking away, she stopped beside him, one paw lifted to continue walking, her refinely-pointed brown nose stuck in Fang's direction as she looked over her should at him. She wasn't smiling. "I've had five families. I could never get one--just one--to stick. If it hadn't been for Scamp, I would've wound up where you and I met sooner or later."
Fang knew what she meant. The pound was no place for a dog like her. She didn't deserve it. She deserved a cozy little house life with a human family that cared for her and hung on her every need.
But that wasn't the life for him. Or his stray-dog friends.
He decided it was time to play a little game. He strolled toward Afghanna and Skip to let them in on it. As he walked, he passed the bush Collette and Annette were hiding behind, shooting dirty glances at the street dogs and whispering behind their paws.
As Fang passed them, he said casually, "Whisper louder, gals, I don't think the dogs at the Park heard ya."
Annette curled her lip at him, but Collette, the one with the long silky ears and red collar, smiled sweetly, looking very much like her mother, and edged away from her sister and out from behind the bush, falling in step beside Fang. Annette rolled her eyes and trailed along behind.
"You're Fang, aren't you?" Collette asked politely. "I'm Collette."
"I remember," Fang informed her, winking. Collette giggled.
Annette heaved a sigh behind them. "I'm going to go get a drink. C'mon, Collette!"
Collette glanced at Fang as they walked, then back at her blue-collared sister. "Oh, okay," she grumbled, turning around and following Annette to the bowls of water lined neatly beside the doghouse.
Fang saw Scamp approach Angel out of the corner of his eye. He snorted to himself. After his little plan was executed, she wouldn't want to spend a second with that little runt.