Street Chains

Chapter 1

"Git outta here, mutt!"

There was the shattering sound of glass hitting a tile floor followed by a ton of crashing as small tan-and-brown puppy skidded onto the sidewalk outside of a butcher shop; he tried his best not to drop the link sausages between his teeth as he did so, and took off down the paved street. The puppy smiled through the meat as he thought about how easily he'd snuck into the butcher shop and stole the sausages.

Humans, he laughed to himself, they're all the same: big, dumb, and-

"WOAH!" The tan mutt leapt out of the way of as a meat knife smashed into the sidewalk. He turned his head back and caught a glimpse of the big-boned butcher whom he'd just stolen the meat from shaking a fist that held another gigantic knife at him.

"An' don't come back, mutt!"

"I'll be back tomorrow, Fatty!" the puppy barked through a mouth-full of meat. "Like always, y'know that!" He knew that the butcher wouldn't understand anything that he'd just barked out, only that he'd better lock up his meat cases before noon the next day. Laughing to himself, the young dog ran around the corner at the end of the block and headed for home.

Across from the old abandoned train station far from Snob Hill, a young black, brown, and white puppy sat in front of a rusty, lidless trash can, looking up at it with a worried expression on his face. "Iggy, are 'ya O.K in there?"

A dainty light cream paw rose out of the abyss of the metal cylinder, flashing the other dog a thumb's up, then was sucked back into the tin can. There was a scratching noise and the black puppy knew that his friend was, once again, scavenging for food. The black puppy sighed heavily and hung his head as he mumbled,” Iggy, I don't like you being in that big thing by yourself; ya'could get hurt 'n I'm not big enough to get in there 'n save ya . . .

"Yo! What's up my 'home dogs'?"

Lifting his head up, the young mongrel turned and saw an older, cream and brown dog trotting up to him. The cream and brown pup wore an amused smirk on his face; obviously he liked the way his new word sounded. "So, what'cha doin', Dex?"

The younger dog glared at the cream mutt and growled, "The name's "Dexter". Not "Dex", got it, Jeremy?"

"Yeah, yeah. O.K, Dexter."  Jeremy stretched and shook his floppy ears from side to side.

Dexter rolled his eyes. "Iggy's diggin' around in that can for some leftover food. I hope the humans threw out some doughnuts, I'm so wanting ta eat at least one of those right now!" Dexter licked his lips at the thought of munching into a delicious doughnut; the little oval dough balls were extremely rare to come by and, like all other food, there was a one in a million chance that someone threw one out as trash. Those humans liked doughnuts as much as any old stray, so they usually ate them all up. It was unfair, but that's the way life was when you choose to live on the streets.

Across from the two dogs, on the train tracks, another brown and cream puppy laid on a piece of wood that sat across the rails. The mutt gnawed on a large bone as she listened to the other's conversation. When Dexter said that he really wanted a doughnut, she rolled her eyes, hopped from her post, and trotted over to the other dogs. She knew that they'd never find any doughnuts in this part of town, they'd have to go and sniff in Snob Hill trash, but a bone was something better than any old piece of bread.

"Here," the brown puppy said, placing the half-chewed bone in front of Dexter and Jeremy. A slight smile crossed her muzzle when the black puppy looked up at her happily, his tail was going almost eighty miles an hour. "'An share this 'cuz I don't want you guys fightin' over it." With a snort, the pup sat back on her hunches and started scratching at the annoying blue collar around her neck.

"Gee, thanks, Owl!" Dexter exclaimed, causing the female dog to roll her aqua green eyes at his kind comment. "Whatever." Owl started scratching at her collar again, causing the little ivory bony-shaped tag to click noisily against its metal clip. Though she wasn't  owned by anybody, Owl had kept her collar on when she'd ran away from her previous home on Snob Hill. The family there had treated her well, except for the dolly games and dress up she was forced to play with the two little girls, but, if she had a choice between there and life on the streets...Owl had absolutely loved the kids but if anybody except for her friends had found out that she was living on Snob Hill...She'd never hear the end of it so she ran away.

Jeremy got up and slid between Dexter and Owl, he snuggled up a little close for Owl's consent "Hey, Owl, how 'bout we go out and scavenging for our own food; I know the best place to go." He raised his eyebrows and Owl growled, "If that place is Tony's then no. 'N git offa me." She quickly stepped over Jeremy, causing him to fall into the space where she was just sitting. Sitting up, Jeremy glared at both a laughing Dexter and Iggy, who was hanging half way out of the trash can, and growled. The mutt quickly ran over, purposely bumped the tin can and it wobbled. Iggy yelped as it flew down and landed right by Jeremy's toes with a loud crash.

"YIP!" Jeremy took off and ducked into a barrel by the tracks; behind him, Owl, Iggy, and Dexter were laughing their heads off.

"That's what 'cha get, "Spooky!”" Owl called as she turned and picked up another bone that had fallen from the trash can. She trotted off to her wooden slab and began gnawing on it.

Jeremy was still quivering in the barrel as he mumbled, "That's not funny, guys..."

"Well it wasn't funny or nice that you knocked Iggy outta the can," Dexter chimed in. "'N Owl's right, that's what ya get." Turning to his friend, Dexter asked, "Ya O.K, Iggy?" The little cream, gray, and black puppy nodded her head and sent the tuff of black hair on her head bouncing back. She flashed Dexter a grin, her olive-green eyes shining, as a sign that there was nothing to be worried about. The black dog let out a sigh of relief; he went and pick up the bone Owl had given him and began gnawing on it. Dexter was pretty worried about Iggy, like he always was, and he always made it his responsibility to keep her out of harm's way. He liked his friend really much, but he was too shy to tell her the truth about how he felt. She likes spooky ol' Jeremy more than me anyways. Poor Iggy, on the other hand, was mute, so she couldn't tell her friends what was bothering her orally, but only by body language. She might have been unable to speak, but Iggy was the smartest, yet youngest, of all eleven pups; she was funny and a loyal friend.

Dexter looked up from his bone and saw Iggy rummaging through the trash and she found a piece of left over meat. The black puppy sighed heavily as she devoured it in one gulp. She's gonna be so hungry...

As the three dogs sat and ate, the science was interrupted by the padding of paws on the rough gravel. "What's fat, red, and delicious ta eat?"

All of the pups looked up simultaneously at the owner of the voice. Iggy and Dexter's eyes were wide with excitement, but Owl had a scowl on her face. "What took ya so long, T.P?" she asked in an irritated voice.

In front of the trio stood a small tan-and brown puppy with cat-like green eyes.

"Sausages!" Dexter yelled as he and Iggy scrambled to their friend.

"Woah, woah! Calm down, kids; lemme get 'em offa my neck first before you bite me!" T.P shook the link sausages off and stood back as the two youngest members of the gang dug in. "Ha, kids," he said as he ruffled the fur on top of Dexter's head.

"And to answer your question, Owl. I might have taken the wrong short cut." He smiled as the brown mutt's fur ruffled up. "WHAT!?"

"I told you, I took the wrong shortcut. Y'know I don't know these parts of the streets; the ways you take." Sitting down, T.P scratched behind his large, floppy ears. "Where's everybody else anyways, Owl?"

The brown and cream puppy rolled her eyes. "I dunno...Jeremy's over there," she gestured to the wooden barrel," Iggy 'n Dexter's right here, but the rest..."

An annoyed expression crossed T.P's face.  "Aw, Owl. Ya' were supposed to keep up with 'em!"

"Hey! I may be the oldest, but they're not my siblings, so I don't have ta' keep an eye on 'em!" The force behind the words was enough to make T.P pounce on his friend.

"I don't care if you're the oldest or not," he growled through clenched teeth. "Your job was to keep an eye on our friends till I got back home! Where are they now, Owl?!"

A string of saliva dripped onto the older puppy's face and she tried her best to lift the heavier male off of her.

"I ain't got no freakin' idea, T.P! But ya better get offa me 'for-"

There was a loud screech, like when a big, white van hits its breaks a little bit too hard. Looking up, Iggy's mouth dropped open and he eyes went wide with fear. Jeremy stepped outside his barrel and froze in place.

"DOGCATCHER!!!" Dexter's high-pitched bark filled his friends' ears and they all took off like a shot, with the dog catcher and his net close behind.

The four dogs ran in zigzags to try to avoid being caught by the net, which seemed to be everywhere at once. Jeremy, T.P, and Owl were dashing far from the vicinity of the dogcatcher's net, but Dexter and Iggy were lagging too far behind.

"Iggs, Dexter!" T.P yelled over his shoulder. "Catch up!"

"I-I'm trying," Dexter yelled between gasps for air. Glancing to his left, the black puppy saw Iggy's little feet going a hundred miles per hour, but she was still falling behind.

 Suddenly, a dark shadow fell over the younger pup and she was scooped up in the dogcatcher's net.

"YIP!" The cream and black puppy let out a sharp yelp as she was lifted into the air as the dogcatcher began to walk back to his truck. The man unlatched the hook on the wired door's side, opened it, and tossed Iggy inside. The young dog tumbled to the back and landed upside down. The puppy's frightful olive-green eyes popped open and she witnessed the wire door being slammed shut. Oh, no! she thought. I gotta get outta here! Iggy scrambled to her feet and rammed her front paws against the door. It isn't movin'! Just then, the small puppy was thrown from her position by a rumbling that echoed throughout the entire van. Instantly knowing what was going on, Iggy ran back and threw her paws against the door again and again, but to no avail.

"Hold on, Iggs! We're commin'!" T.P's voice yelled over the roar of the engine. The young mutt leaped onto the narrow, wooden ledge on the van's rear. His foot slipped out from under him a bit, but he quickly regained his balance.

T.P nudged the metal hook on the door upward with his nose, but it didn’t move out of its holder.

“Almost...”WOAH!”

The small puppy was thrown from the truck as it jerked forward, leaving T.P in its dust. Standing up, T.P shook the dust out of his fur as the other members surrounded him. Dexter ran a few steps after the vehicle, his big green eyes watering.

“IGGY!!!”, he yelled at the top of his lungs. Knowing that he yelling wouldn’t bring his friend back, Dexter drooped his head and stubby tail. “Iggs...”

“What were ya doin’, T.P!? You could’ve got killed!” Owl’s fur was ruffled again as she yelled at the second youngest puppy, who glared daggers at her. “What was I doin’? I was tryin’ to save Iggs, that’s what I was doin’! Where were you!?”

There was a low muffled, growling sound as Owl bared her teeth, eyes ablaze. Suddenly, she jumped on T.P’s back, sinking her pointed teeth deep into the sensitive skin on the back of his neck.

Letting out a sharp bark of rage, the tan dog whirled his head around and managed to scrap Owl across her left eye and finally got her to fall off. The small dog wore a triumphant grin until her saw the blood running from right below Owl’s eyebrow; then his smile dropped and his entire expression turned into surprise.

“Owl...”

Looking up at T.P, Owl squinted her left eye open, but winced at the pain. “Damn you,” was all the brown mongrel could manage. T.P and Dexter’s ears perked up abruptly at her words. None of the gang had ever cursed or been cursed out before, but Owl had just broken that streak. Rising on wobbly legs, Owl jumped at T.P again, grabbing him by the scruff of his neck and slung him into a group of trash cans, all of them were knocked over like pins and T.P was the accurate bowling ball.

Snorting, Owl gritted her teeth and began trotting off down the alleyway at a slow pace. Dexter trotted up behind her. “Owl, where’re ya goin’?” His voice was wobbly and cracked a bit. When she didn’t answer, Dexter ran around and cut her off. “Why can’t we all just get a-!” A low, dangerous growl erupted from the older dog’s troat causing Dexter’s eyes to go wide as he quickly leap out of her way. He watched helplessly as the brown dog’s long tail disappeared around the corner leading to the next street. She was already gone when he ran to go check.

“Owl...not you, too...” The black puppy’s ears drooped to the point to where they were practically touching the ground.

“C’mon,” a gruff, stern voice sliced through the eerie silence, and Dexter turned his head behind him to see T.P staring at him with those spooky cat eyes which were darker then usual. “Let’s go, Dex. If we’re gonna rescue Iggy, we’re gonna need backup.” 

Dexter’s spirits raised slightly as he began trotting after T.P. He looked up at the darkening skies overhead; they seemed to reflect how his friends felt.

Averting his gaze to the tawny mutt in a few feet in front of him, Dexter realized how far he’d fallen behind and how T.P was paying no attention to him whatsoever; Dexter ran to catch up to T.P just as lightning erupted from the ominous clouds above.

 "C'mon, c'mon..."

Cleverly hidden between the thick branches of some shrubs, a young brown and white puppy of a stocky breed crouched down deeper into the hedges as he looked across the street at the beautiful pink-painted, two story house surrounded by a white picket fence. There was a veranda shading the back porch of the house which exited into a large yard. Though the puppy was never too fond of the houses on Snob Hill, compared to him, those houses weren’t nearly as comfy looking than his barrel back at home, and did his best to avoid them at all cost. There was only one reason why he was drawn to this house: A young, robust, and quit charming Cocker Spaniel puppy. It had taken only one look from the girl dog for the brown one to fall completely head over tail for her; but when she invited him to crawl under the gate to join her in her play, the stray had only hung his head and turned his back on her. As he left, he swore he could feel the sadness in the white-collared pup’s eyes; he heard her mother call out for her, “Danelle! Its supper time. Come in.”

 She has such a pretty name...Aw! What was I thinking? he scolded himself as he walked home that night, I'm a stray, she's a House Pet; there's no way she'd fall for a guy like me...

Obviously, that thought had been whipped out of his head because, once again, the brown dog was staring impatiently at the two story house, waiting for the Cocker Spaniel puppy to come out.

Suddenly, as if on cue, three puppies came bursting through the little doggy-door on the back porch; the first two were females and resembled Cocker Spaniels, one had a red collar, the other a blue; the last puppy was a male and resembled the Tramp, every Street Dogs' hero. The stocky dog immediately recognized them as the Tramp's, and a lucky girl Spaniel named Lady's, kids. The three puppies began running around the yard and then the two girls jumped their brother, sitting on top of him to keep him from getting up. As the puppies continued to sit on their brother, the brown dog across the street stood up and started wagging his curly tail. Then he realized that neither of the female dogs were his crush, who wore a white collar, and he sat down, hanging his head and dropped his tail.

“Perfect,” he mumbled to himself, “Danelle's not here...Ah, Bruce, what were ya thinking? She’s not gonna fall for your type.-“

Suddenly, the doggy-door opened and the white collared Cocker Spaniel pup raced out, yelled, causing her siblings to look up, then body slammed all three of them. Bruce recognized the voice and immediately stood up, wagging his tail fiercely. Danelle was pushed off by her sisters and they began chasing her around the yard while the little gray male snuck out of the way and went to start digging up the flower bed.

Bruce smiled as he watched Danelle dodge her sisters and win several short games of tag; her sisters were obviously getting really tired of her jumping on their backs and causing them to run around in circles. The young dog laid down quietly in the shrubs and watched with wanting eyes as all four puppies continued their game.

They all look like they're having fun, he thought to himself. But that girl...A small smile spread across the puppy's face at the thought of the white-collard puppy. She's beautiful...

The doggy-door opened again and a larger version of the girls came out. This Spaniel wore a beautiful turquoise collar with a yellow diamond shaped tag on it. “Annette, Danille, Colette! Its getting dark out, time to come inside.”

The brown dog's small triangular ears perked up when a warm, female voice cut through his thoughts. Looking through the branches, he saw the beautiful Cocker Spaniel standing on the back porch, and the young dog could see exactly where the girl pups got their looks from.

The three girl puppies looked at each other and Danelle said, “I’ll race you guys!” The white-collared puppy took her running stance. “No you won’t,” the blue-collared one responded, crouching low like her sister. “Well, you’re both gonna loose to me! Bye!” Both girls looked up in time to see the red-collared sister bounding off toward the porch.

“No fair, Collet!” Annette called out. “C’mon, Danelle, let’s get her!”

With that, both sisters ran after the first, barking and yipping as they ran into the house past their mother.

“Scamp! You, too,” the mother dog said to her son, who sighed heavily and walked in the door after his mother, tracking dirt behind him and into the house.

Bruce watched the two dogs disappear inside and waited a couple of minutes before stepping out of the shrubs and trotting down the street. Now, the brown dog was left all alone with nobody to make conversation with, not that he wanted to talk, but hearing one of his friends laughing beside him would comfort him in the eerie silence. A while after exiting the perimeter of Snob Hill, Bruce was greeted by the rough stone on his paws and the toppled trash cans that littered the streets. “Ah, finally a place I’m more comfortable with.” Bruce upped his trot into a quick paced walk as he thought about how hungry he was and hoped that T.P saved him something to eat; he looked up into the darkening sky that threatened to drop bucket loads of rain. Better hurry up and get home," his gruff voice echoed through the empty streets. "T.P will be worried 'bout me."

Durning his journey home, the chow-chow couldn't help but think about the white-collared puppy from earlier. She's really pretty, and I like her personality: So bouncy and outgoing...But she'd never go for a guy like me. My voice's to...he pondered over the words, Low and unwelcoming. She wouldn't like me even if I was the niciest dog in the world. The chow's ears and tail dipped at that thought.

As the chow chow got farther and farther into the dark streets, he heard the padding of paws behind him. They faint at first, but they soon grew louder.

Bruce grimaced and stopped under the pale glow of a street lamp; he turned around and stared stiffed legged into the shadows beyond, hopeing that the sound was just some dumb rat and not Buster and his crew. As a pup, Bruce's father left Buster's association, the Junkyard Dogs, to be with his mother as she gave birth to him. Buster didn't like that and threatened his father on several occasions but said that he'd only stop if he returned to the Junkyard Dogs. Bruce's father turned down the offer, making Buster even more angrier. A few weeks later, when Bruce was old enough to remember the event, Buster brought his crew to Bruce's parents' barrel and threatened his father. Bruce's dad defended him and his mother from Buster's wrath but didn't escape alive. Bruce and his mother lived in constant fear of Buster for two months; Bruce was out finding food for his tired mother and when he came back, he witnessed Buster killing his mother. The young dog fled, but he swore that he'd bring pain and suffering to Buster to avenge his mother.

Now, Bruce wasn't in the mood to try and fend off Buster or his dumb followers, he was by himself and very tired. The padding got even closer and the fur on the back of Bruce's neck and back spiked up; the brown chow chow let a long, low growl escape his throat.

"Buster," the young dog snarled, "I don't feel like beating your arse right now, so you'd betta back off or I'll-"

"Or you'll what, Brucey?"

Out of the shadows trotted a small, twany colored puppy with a big grin on his lips. Close behind him followed a black and white puppy who looked around cautiously.

Bruce's expression  relaxed as the sight of his buddies calmed him down.

"Aww, what's wrong, Brucy? Y'so scared of little ol me?" The tawny dog snickered as he began to trot around Bruce. The chow-chow's thick eyebrows went back to their normal positions and his features began to relax.

Suddenly the tan dog sat down in front of the chow and sighed. "Why y'so paranoid of Buster anyway? All he does is talk alotta crap but he doesn't do nothin'. What's 'sup?"

Bruce rolled his eyes at his friend and started walking off. "T.P," he mumbled. "What do you want? 'An don't call me paranoid, I ain't scared of Buster. But what did ya come here fo', huh?"

"Maybe if ya sat still, I could tell you."

T.P had already caught up with Bruce and stepped in front of him but Bruce sidestepped him and continued his trot home. Rolling his green eyes, T.P grimaced as the sentence exited from his mouth.

"Iggy's gone."

In front of him, T.P saw Bruce's body stiffen in midstep. The chow chow stayed dead silent and T.P continued his message. "She was...caught by the pound earlier this morning. I tried to get her off the truck, but as it took off I lost my balance and fell." T.P inhaled deeply through his nose. "Everybody's pretty pissed, too. Dexter's takin' it the hardest, though," T.P glanced over to his buddy walking slowly behind them with his tail and short tail held low. The schnauzer mix faced the chow again. "And that's why we're gonna need your help if we’re gonna bring our baby home."

Bruce took in a deep breath and was stiff for a while. He then turned toward his other two friends; he looked at the young and robust T.P, he was a jerk most of the time, but he was always ready to get revenge on anyone who hurt his baby, then to Dexter. He loved Iggy with al of his heart and, though he considered himself to be nothing but a coward, he was driven a inner desire to protect Iggy at all costs.

Bruce tossed back his head, knocking a few strings of his simi-curly hair out of his face. The young chow-chow trotted between his two commands down the street, turned around and said, "Well, what're you guys waitin' for?" He smiled as a cheerful look crossed T.P and Dexter's faces.

"Let's go get Iggy back."