The Tale of Skipper

by Doverstar

Chapter 1

"Stop kicking!" snapped Crystal.

"I'm not!" retorted her runty little brother. Actually, they were the same age, but the two Yellow Lab pups were quite different in size.

"Quiet down in there," chuckled their mother, Emerald. "Settle down. Or I'll make you sleep outside the box tonight, Crystal."

The Labrador family of stray dogs lived in an alley, often sleeping in crates, the pups in the more comfortable cardboard box.

"Mo-om!" cried the runt. "She says I'm kicking her--and I'm not kicking her!"

"Skipper, dear," Emerald smiled. "Do calm down. You must learn to share, or sleep on the stone floor. Is it a deal, little one?"

"I'm not little," Skipper pointed out, fidgeting where he lay curled up next to his slightly-bigger, slightly-lighter-colored sister Crystal.

"Skipper."

"Okay, okay," Skipper smiled crookedly. "Deal, whatever."

"Good boy," Emerald nuzzled him fondly and laid down next to the cardboard box.

She was just drifting off to sleep when two small paws and a sudden weight came onto her back.

"Mom?" Skipper asked, staring straight ahead with his eyebrows low over his green eyes in confusion. "Why do you sleep outside instead of in a box?"

"There's no room for me in there, dearest," Emerald yawned, smiling softly, eyelids lowered. Her tail thumped the ground of the grimy alley.

"Not in our box," Skipper scoffed. "In your own."

"Well," Emerald gently rolled over, toppling her son off of him. "I need to keep watch. The dogcatchers could be here at any moment. And enemy dogs. I must stay outside to protect you."

"Why? Why can't you go to sleep too?" Skipper arched a brow, deeper-than-his-age voice squeaking.

"Because it would be selfish--and dangerous to you and your sister."

"How come?" Skipper rolled onto his belly next to his mother, looking up at her.

"You're smaller and weaker than I--and you're my pups. I must take care of you because I love you dearly." She nuzzled him again.

Skipper giggled from somewhere deep in his belly. "Mo-om--stop, haha, that tickles!"

"You must always protect the weak, Skipper," she murmured, closing her eyes as she touched her pointed black nose to his. "If you are strong, use your strength to shelter those less fortunate than yourself. The world can be a cruel place to live in. There is no reason why you shouldn't help carry the burden of others."

Skipper nodded and listened closely. His mother rarely gave such sage advice. The little puppy barely understood all of it, but the things he did understand he locked away in the back of his mind to bring out and charish later.

Skipper stood, realizing his mother was now drifitng off to sleep, and crept back into the on-its-side cardboard box, sheltered from the drizzle of light rain.

He shook his yellow-cream fur, splattering his sister.

"Hey!" she barked, jolting awake.

Skipper crouched beside her, tucking his front paw underneath him and touching his nose to her shoulder fur, eyes worried. "Sorry. Did I wake you?"

Crystal groaned and rolled onto her back, her head underneath his. She closed one eye and kept the remaining-open one on her younger brother. "Do you want the truth?" she muttered sleepily.

Skipper nodded.

"Then yes," she snorted, giggling at him, her anger dissolving with her slick, half-British accent. "You did wake me. What were you doing, bothering Mum?"

"No," Skipper protested, trying not to chuckle with her. He paused. "Well, yeah. I wanted to know why she sleeps outside."

"Easy," his sister mumbled, yawning as she lay on her back. "She's got to keep watch."

Skipper stared at her. "How did you know?" he asked, tail wagging.

"It's quite obvious," Crystal pointed out. She opened both eyes and suddenly rolled onto her belly. "Don't you know what would happen if she didn't?"

Skipper shook his head.

"Well," Crystal began as she sat up, back sunk in the middle like a play-crouch as she stretched her front paws and then shook her short, cream-colored ears. "The dogcatchers would find us."

"So?" Skipper retorted.

"So they've got a net, you muggins," Crystal arched a brow. "They'd scoop you and I up in those nets and have us on our way to the pound faster than you could bark for help."

Skipper shuddered, young green eyes wide. "What about Mom?"

Crystal leaned close to her brother, eyes as wide as his and whispered, as if sharing a secret, "They'd take her away."

"Take her away?" Skipper gasped, ears jumping on his head. His eyes were now filled with worry. "Where?"

Crystal shrugged, looking down and to the right but keeping her head facing her brother. "No one really knows."

Then she caught the horror on his face.

Crystal cocked her head, worried for him. "What's the matter?"

Skipper's voice trembled. "I don't want her to get took," he cried.

"Taken," Crystal corrected, always a stickler for grammar. Just like their mother. She scooted toward her little brother, fidgeting in the small space with her paws. She moved in beside him, pressing her lighter fur against his darker-yellow pelt. "Don't worry," she whispered. "It won't happen. She's on watch just now."

Skipper looked down at his paws, not wanting her to see him sniffling like a wet-behind-the-ear newborn.

"And if they do take her away," Crystal whispered in his ear, "I'll protect you. I won't leave your side."

Skipper pressed against her. Crystal always knew what to say. "You're the best sister I ever had," he murmured to her.

"Yes, well," Crystal smiled, "I'm the only one you've ever had."

Outside the box where Emerald lay, looking like she was asleep, she opened one eye and smiled.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Hurry! Wake up! Skipper! They're after us! Crystal!"

Skipper opened his eyes with his heart pounding. "Mom?" he cried out.

"Yes, that's it, wake your sister! Quickly now!" Emerald had her head in the cardboard box. "Wake up, Crystal, wake up now!"

Skipper nudged his sister's fur. "Crystal?" he nudged again. "Crystal! Wake up!"

Crystal's eyes snapped open. "Skipper, what--" her eyes widened and she sat up when she saw her mother's frantic look.

"The dogcatchers have come for us!" Emerald barked. "We must leave--now!"

Skipper felt Crystal bumping him from behind, nudging him along with her head.

"Go!" Crystal yapped.

Skipper, still dazed from sleep, staggered out of the box and began running after his mother, who was sprinting out of the alley, checking behind her to see if her pups were still coming.

"Hurry now! Come on!" Emerald hissed. "Faster, Crystal! Skipper, darling, move those paws! You can make it--we just have to cross the road!"

Skipper and Crystal reached their mother's side, panting. Skipper shook the drizzle of rain from his fur. "Mom?" he gasped. "Where are they? Where are we going?"

"They've reached our alley," Emerald panted. "They're searching for us."

"We gave them the slip!" Crystal crowed in triumph. She bounced on her paws, though her heart still beat violently.

"Not yet we haven't," Emerald told her softly. "You see those carriages, little ones? They and their horses are quite fast. We must be quick."

Crystal and Skipper exchanged concerned glances. They looked back up at their mother, horrified.

"Crystal, you must go first," ordered Emerald. "I'll tell you when."

Crystal trembled, but she nodded bravely.

Emerald glanced over her shoulder worriedly, then nudged Crystal. "Now! Go!"

Skipper watched, tense with fear, as his sister pelted across the road. She made it just before a horse-drawn carriage galloped past at amazing speed.

"She made it! Look, Mom, look, Crystal made it!" Skipper cried.

Crystal stopped at the safer side of the road, gazing back at them, crouching on the sidewalk and panting.

"Your turn, dear," Emerald nuzzled him. "Just like your sister. Be safe. Wait for it..."

Skipper tried to keep his paws from shaking.

Suddenly noise exploded from behind them.

"Mother!" barked Crystal from the other side of the street. "The dogcatchers are coming up behind you! Hurry!"

Emerald and Skipper whirled around to see two tall, dark figures leering over them with long poles in their hands, a meshy, string-like mesh like a rope bucket at the end of them.

Nets. The word rang in Skipper's mind. He froze in fear.

Suddenly his mother scooped him up, taking his scruff in her jaws and pelting onto the road.

Skipper swung violently from her mouth, but she never let go, keeping a tight hold on him as she ran.

Carriages and horses' hooves thundered around them. Skipper squeezed his eyes shut. The shouts of the dogcatchers, Crystal's worried barking on the other side, Emerald's panting above him...it was too much.

Suddenly Emerald was hit in the side by something heavy. Pain shot through her limbs. Everything went dark. Skipper flew from her mouth. The Labrador puppy skidded across the street, landing at Crystal's paws.

"Crystal, what happened?" moaned Skipper, staggering to his paws. His left hind paw throbbed.

Crystal wasn't next to him anymore. She was leaning over the limp shape of their mother on the side of the road.

"No, no!" Crystal howled, head dipped toward the moon. "Mum! Mother, please, please get up! Don't be..."

"What is it?" Skipper hurried to her side. "What's wrong with her?"

Crystal's eyes filled with tears. "She's...she's..."

Suddenly Skipper felt dizzy. Numb. Something made the world swim around him. He heard a yelp, saw the blur of a net, heard someone call his name...

And fell into darkness.

Chapter 2

Skipper woke, feeling hot and stuffy. "Wha...?" he lifted his head.

He was in a human household...a kitchen. He could tell by the smell of garlic bread and boiling pots of noodles.

A large man was bending over him, thick hands on his knees, which were covered with an apron. "Joey!" he called, grinning over his shoulder and smiling down at Skipper. "A-look, Joey, he's awake!"

An Italian accent. Strange.

Joey was a thinner man with a less thick Italian accent. "Awwh," he cooed, scratching Skipper behind the ears. "A good thing we a-found him out a-there, eh, Tony?"

Tony glared at him and stood up straight. "We? We? What's a-mattah wit' you, Joey, who is a-we? It was me a-saving the little a-dickens!"

Joey rolled his eyes and put his hands up. "Okay, okay, a-Tony, you da boss!" he continued to grumble under his breath and went to check on the garlic bread in the oven.

Skipper realized he was in a soft basket. He stiffened. Mom. Crystal!

He scrambled to his paws, sneezing. Then he bolted for the open door.

"'Ey! Joey, a-look man, he's a-running out on us!" Tony cried.

Joey's head snapped toward Skipper. "Eh? A-Wait a minute!"

Skipper flinched and proceeded to exit the kitchen into a back alley. Gotta find Crystal. Gotta find Crystal.

When the little Yellow Lab puppy finally made it to the side of the street where he'd last seen his sister and mother, he stopped cold. She's gone. She's gone. Oh no. No no no no no...

Skipper tried to catch his breath, horrified. "M-Mom...Cry...Crystal..." He choked on their names.

Suddenly a shuffle behind him made fear snap in his mind. Skipper turned around.

A dogcatcher.

Skipper froze. Then he stopped to think for a second. They took Crystal. They killed Mom. His eyebrows lowered. His vision blurred when he thought of the cries Crystal had made before he'd fainted, how they had taken her without any thought of her saftey, how they had rooted the Labrador family out of their home and viciously driven Emerald onto the merciless streets where she'd been brutally run over. Skipper's lip curled. His teeth were bared.

A scowl formed on his muzzle.

Out of the top of his eyes he glared at the dogcatcher and made a snap at the man's ankles.

"Get. Back!" Skipper snarled.

Of course, this human couldn't understand him. But he looked different from the dogcatcher that horrible night. He looked younger. And more concerned at the sight of Skipper's teeth. The Yellow Lab may have been a puppy, but he still looked nasty when showing his fangs.

Skipper, at the back of his mind, felt guilty for scaring this new, unexperienced dogcatcher. But then he remembered Crystal and let out the deepest bark he could muster. "Step off!"

Skipper turned then, and bolted down the sidewalk in a blur. With the young human distracted, he could make his getaway and think of where to find Crystal.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The evening sky lit pinkish light on Skipper's cream-yellow fur as he trudged through the streets, stomach growling, eyes milky with thirst. His paws throbbed; he had to drag them across the sidewalk to take one step after another. He'd been searching for his beloved sister all day. Hours. It felt like a week, but it'd only been one day.

Skipper raised his head and glared straight ahead as he walked, trying to pick up his feet more and keep his tail from dragging the ground, the picture of hopelessness. I'll never stop searching. Never. Crystal wouldn't have stopped searching for me.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

And he didn't stop searching. Skipper searched for days. A week. Every building, every house, every yard looked the same. He had found food in old garbage cans and had even gotten some from generous passerby humans, but it did nothing to ease the ache he felt. His family had been stolen from him in one night. He would never feel happy again, he was sure of that.

All he wanted was a place to stay. And not with some stupid human either. Humans had taken his mother and sister. He wanted a home of his own, somewhere he'd call his personal territory, a place he'd feel warm and safe again.

A sudden chittering sound made Skipper's ears leap.

A squirrel was right in front of him. Feeling playfullness well up inside himself, the Yellow Lab sprang after it, following it through an open, iron gate and into a grove of trees. He chased the squirrel, legs pumping faster and faster, a laugh bubbling up out of him. Skipper pounded through the grass, ignoring the leaves of bushes swishing in his face, twigs caught in his fur, the dead leaves on the forest floor tripping him up. He'd never felt so free in his life.

He glanced around.

His smile fell. He stopped running. Confusion swept over him.

The squirrel raced back up a tree, out of reach. Skipper's eyes cut from side to side.

Where the heck am I?

He felt afraid for a moment. Looking back over his shoulder, he saw a sign:

Town Park.

"The Park?" he murmured aloud. Skipper cocked his head, arching a brow. He mouthed the word 'wha...?' without a sound and clenched his teeth, glancing around again.

Then the sunshine blazed against his fur. Birds chirped. Skipper felt contentment inside himself.

For a while he walked through the Park. Sometimes he'd see other dogs, pups and human families having lunch at long wooden tables or on a blanket in the grass. He came across a charming little red bridge over a river that led into a wonderful, cold-but-not-too-cold lake. Skipper swam in it for a while, cooling off and opening his eyes underwater to see the fish that swam about. He chased a few more squirrels. By nightfall Skipper knew he'd found it.

Home.

This would be it. It was perfect. His new home.

(AUTHOR'S NOTE: I've been testing this sort of thing out in stories, hoping your imaginations will serve you when reading and using these links. Click the link in a new tab or window that I give you here. You can imagine it as Skip singing or it playing while he roams the park. Just CLICK THE LINK AND PLAY THE SONG! Hopefully your imagination will do the rest, but this part in the story really called for it. Here ya go. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5JAqLGSd2ac )

 Skipper went to the red bridge after having dried off from swimming. He sat down and gazed at the stars, green eyes glittering.

"I’ve got my memories,

Always inside of me,

But I can’t go back,

Back to how it was.

I believe you now.
 

I’ve come too far.

No, I can’t go back,

Back to how it was.

Created for a place I’ve never known…

This is home!
 

Now I’m finally where I belong.

Where I belong,

Yeah, this is home!

I’ve been searchin’ for a place of my own,

Now I’ve found it,

Maybe this is home,

Yeah, this is home…"

(AUTHOR'S NOTE: STOP THE MUSIC NOW!)

The next week or two, Skipper was alone and had the Park to himself. He desperately missed his sister and mother, and the first few nights there were terrifying without them. But what had the dogcatchers done to Crystal? The young Lab knew he'd never see his mother again, but his sister had to be out there somewhere! Skipper grew territorial and antisocial with the other dogs and humans that entered the Park, staying only in woods near the river, bridge, gate, and lake. It was the only place he felt safe. He learned to climb a few small, still-growing trees, and even to catch fish. He never really caught up with a full-grown squirrel, but he came close. He was without a doubt the fastest dog in the Park.

And he was used to it. This was his life. He had to put the past behind him and start anew, on his own, in his new home in the Park.

But he was never the same pup he had been. He had changed.

Chapter 3

{Three months later...}

Sun peaked over the treetops. Birds chirped.

A disturbance arose, sending the birds fluttering in a noisy array of screeching and feathers.

A squirrel, with thick red fur, sprinted across the grass, darting between trees and rocks. Its breathing was almost as fast as its heartbeat, tail fanned out behind it.

Suddenly the squirrel spotted its ticket to saftey. It shot up the tallest oak in the forest. Then it sprang out to the tip of the highest branch and chattered angrily down at its attacker.

"Yeah, yeah, you win this round," Skipper panted, front paws on the tree trunk, glaring up at the squirrel.

A sudden commotion erupted from the edge of the woods, where the clearing of grassy hills near the red-bridge river and lake were.

Skipper dropped back onto all four paws and arched a brow in the direction of the noise, blinking. "Great. Just what I need. Tresspassers."

Another chattering noise came from above his head.

"I am not!" Skipper shot back to the squirrel.

More chatter.

"Leave my hunting skills out of this!"

A high-pitched cackling sound, along with a shaking of branches--then more chatter.

"Yeah, well, at least I don't eat nuts."

The cackling chatter stopped. A heartbeat later, Skipper was hit on the head with an acorn.

"Hey!"

More angry chatter. Then silence as the squirrel vanished into the tree's thick boughs.

Skipper growled and let out a bark, just to play with the tree-climbing rodent's high-strung nerves. Then he trotted off. No luck with squirrels. Time for fish. Yipee.

The hardest thing for him to do, being a dog, was to catch a fish. Normally you'd wait, barely even breathing, for a fish's shadow just to flick in and out of your line of vision. But not for Skipper. He had a different tactic--fool proof.

As he sat at the lake's edge, on the dipping-into-the-river's-shallows stretch of crass underneath the red bridge, Skipper crouched there like a house cat, waiting.

He only had to wait two seconds.

Then he took a twig in his jaws and stirred up the water. The shadow of the fat fish swam in the opposite direction of the twig--toward the bank--and right towards Skipper.

Skipper leaned down, dropping the twig, reading to plunge his muzzle in and snatch the fish up.

Suddenly a large rock fell from the top of the bridge and into the water directly in front of him. Not only did it scare away the fish, the large sheet of water splashed onto Skipper, drenching the Yellow Lab puppy entirely.

"Oh, come on, you have got to be kidding me!" Skipper groaned. Lunch? Ruined. Dry, comfortable feeling? Gone.

Then he heard voices. Skipper gritted his teeth. Whatever idiot just did that, I'm gonna put two big teeth marks somewhere they can see 'em, so they'll remember not to mess with me or my territory ever again!

He stormed up the grass and onto the edge of the red, wooden bridge.

A scruffy, spotted white mutt-pup, female, stood wagging her tail at a Golden Retriever pup, who seemed to be in a daze at the moment. They looked about Skipper's age, but maybe a smidge older.

Skipper let out a loud bark to let them know he was there.

But they still didn't notice him standing a few feet off.

The spotted she-pup looked up. "Did you hear that?" she gasped.

Skipper decided to make himself known more verbally. He took a deep breath and began stomping toward them, ears and tail still dripping wet.

"Hear wha--" the Golden Retriever began.

"Hey!" Skipper snarled. He glared at them. He was breathing hard, one eyebrow arched angrily, scowling at the two pups.

The Golden Retriever pup smirked at him. "How's pickin's, shorty?" he greeted smugly.

Skipper stormed up to him and stuck his nose in the somewhat-taller dog's face. "Don't you know what you just did?" he snapped.

"Nah," the Golden Retriever shook his head. His smirk grew. "I gotta tell ya, that bath y'took didn't help." He wrinkled his nose and reared his head back.

"Shut up!" Skipper barked.

"Hey, there's no need to get loud over this," began the spotted pup. "Who are you, and what are you talking about, if you don't mind?" she asked Skipper.

Skipper glanced at her. His eyes softened a bit. Something about her responsible, take-charge attitude reminded him of Crystal. He shook the feeling away and glared at her. "They call me Skipper--"

"Who does?" the Golden Retriever pup broke in. He leaned toward the spotted female. "He ain't the friendly type if y'get my drift..."

"Shut. Up!" Skipper spat through gritted teeth. He growled at the Retriever. This long-eared, red-eyed pup made Skipper feel young and inexperienced, like a stick-in-the-mud in comparison to the Golden Retriever's carefree, jokular attitude just now.

"How 'bout you take a hike, huh, small fry?" the Retriever puppy shouldered the spotted female pup out of the way and barged toward Skipper.

Skipper stood his ground, baring his teeth.

"Both of you be quiet!" the spotted pup snarled. She shoved in between them. Then she turned to Skipper. "I'm still not clear on why you're here, pal."

"Because," Skipper began angrily, "this knucklehead just soaked me when I was this close to catching a fish!" he huffed.

"You can catch fish?" the spotted pup snorted, sounding unconvinced. Skipper then noticed she had mismatched eyes; one was brown, one was blue. Somehow they made her prettier.

"Yeah. And climb trees," Skipper replied in a smug tone.

The Golden Retriever pup arched a brow. "So, you're a cat, is that what you're sayin'?"

Skipper tensed. How dare he! Stupid mutt. Skipper let out a low growl. "Don't push your luck, dude. This my home, and you're tresspassing, so whatever it is you're doing," he bared his teeth, "back off."

The Golden Retriever's eyes narrowed. "You musta been a real pleasure t'take care of. Where're yer 'rents?"

Skipper froze. How could he tell them without sounding weak? The very thought made him feel sick to his stomach, the thought of his mother laying lifeless on the road. He swallowed, then gave a deeper scowl, standing firm. "Gone." His voice vibrated.

"Look, Skipper--can I call ya Skip?" the Golden Retriever asked.

Skipper's head reared back, the rest of his body unmoving. Skip. He liked it. A shorter version of his name, like a term of endearment. Of course, no one had given him a term of endearment in so long...

The Golden Retriever didn't wait for him to answer. "If this's anyone's home, it's--" he stopped. Skip saw his eyes cloud. What was he going to say? Why was it so difficult? Maybe he'd been through something, too. Something tragic.

Skip cocked his head, still frowning, waiting for the Golden Retriever to finish.

The Retriever shook himself and continued, "We'll leave when we're good an' ready, capiche?"

Skip arched a brow. Yeah, right, he thought. Aloud he said, "Not if I can help it."

The Golden Retriever shrugged. "Y'can't. So I suggest," he turned back to where he and the spotted female pup had been standing, "y'join in."

Then he began making faces into the water's reflection, poking his head through the two wooden red bars to look down.

The spotted female looked at him for a moment, eyebrows arched, then smiled. She stood in the same position, looking down into the water at her reflection, and laughed. She had stuck her tongue out and crossed her eyes, her reflection doing the exact same thing.

Skip arched a brow and frowned deeply. They're a few pieces of kibble short of a full bowl. "What're you doing?" he asked, one eye squinted slightly, watching them.

"Come see fer yerself," the Golden Retriever invited without looking at him.

"If this is some trick," Skipper began, storming over and pushing his head betwen the wooden bars, the other two pups flanking him. He stopped and stared at their reflections--they were hysterical. "Wha...?" Skip stopped. He spluttered. Then he pulled himself away, standing in the middle of the red-wood bridge and cackling, "You look like a racoon!"

The Golden Retriever glanced at him over one shoulder, eyelids lowered and grinning. He jerked his head toward the female spotted pup. "Yeah, she's pretty scary, ain't she?" he snickered.

"Hey!" the female cried. "You're the scary one, pal. Look at the length of those ears!"

Skip snickered. "Ch'yeah," he added. "I'm surprised you don't trip over them."

"Well, I'm surprised y'can see with eyes like that," Fang shot back teasingly, glancing at the color of Skipper's eyes. "What'd they do, feed y'grass when you were a baby?"

Skip's eyebrows lowered. He stopped laughing. When I was a baby...

The spotted she-pup was suddenly beside him, nudging Skip with her paw. "What about your eyes?" she asked the Retriever. "You look half-crazy with red eyes like those!"

"Yer one t'talk, dollface," the Golden Retriever retorted. "One brown an' one blue, eh? It's like mismatchin' socks!"

"N-Now hold on a minute..." the spotted female began, trying to sound outraged, but she burst into another fit of laughter.

Skip joined in. He hadn't laughed this hard in ages. Suddenly he realized something. They knew his name, but he didn't know theirs. He never really had friends of his own, outside his family. Names were kind of important. But he felt shy. They were a month or so older than he was, and what if they didn't like him as much as they acted like they did? They weren't house dogs either, all scruffy and thin-furred. They were perfect friends.

"Uh...what're your names?" he asked, feeling shy enough to want to take the question back.

The spotted female immediately smiled at him, "I'm Afghanna," she said.

Skip pointedly glanced at the Retriever. He still didn't like this dog's attitude, but he was okay. A natural leader, it seemed. He didn't smile, but he didn't frown, either. "What about you?" he demanded.

"I'll give ya a hint, how's that?" the Retriever winked. Then he bared his teeth.

"Uh..." Skipper cocked his head. Nothing came to mind.

"No? Okay, how's this?" the Golden Retriever pup bit at the air, still baring his sharp teeth.

Skip lowered his eyelids and raised his eyebrows, confused.

"What do I gotta do, bite ya t'get ya to--" the Retriever stopped. A slow smile spread across his muzzle, eyelids lowering.

Skipper tensed, realizing what was coming. "W-Wait a second, now, don't..." He began backing away as the Retriever crept toward him.

"His name's Fang," Afghanna muttered, grinning. "Now, ah, run!"

Skip, breaking into a smile grin of his own, turned tail and fled across the bridge and up the grassy hills with Afghanna, Fang on their heels.

Chapter 3

(One Month Later...)

Skip now anticipated his meetings with Fang and Afghanna. He would never admit it to their faces, but they were his best friends. His only friends. He still wanted to bite Fang sometimes, the arrogant "King of the Streets" wannabe. But he never did. And Afghanna...no one could replace Crystal as a sister, but Afghanna came pretty close. She was talented and clever, with a tomboy side to her feminine gentleness. And Fang had his perks. Whenever Skipper was feeling down--more than usual--Fang would come up behind him and bark as loud as he could, sending Skip shooting three feet into the air, then the Yellow Lab would hit the ground running--running after Fang, who would laugh his ears off.

Fang had begun to call them his "gang". Skip didn't approve. Ever. They weren't his little posse to be dragged around wherever he went, Skipper liked to think he chose to be with them; it wasn't a responsibility. Sometimes Afghanna would visit him in the evenings and spend the night there, curled up next to Skip underneath a tree or a bush. It made the young Lab's nights in the Park a lot less lonely and creepy. But he never told her that. He just didn't complain or grunt. He hoped that at least told her he was grateful.

And Skipper introduced Afghanna and Fang to a little cove of purple-flowered reeds, long grass, and glittering moonlight--a place he liked to call the Firefly Fountain. There the inseperable trio discovered a heart engraved in the sidewalk around the wonderful, glittering-watered fountain, a heart that had two seperate pawprints engraved in it. At first Skip had curled his lip, but he saw Afghanna looking wistful for two seconds, like the thought of such a doggie romance (whoever the owners of the engraved-pawprints might be) enchanted her tougher side to soften up. And when Skipper had glanced at Fang, the Golden Retriever was cocking his head in confusion at the engravement, as though he couldn't quite comprehend the thought of one dog actually loving another so much that they'd want to stay together for more than a month. Or even a week.

Most days they'd wander the streets and get into mischief, but Skip always returned to the Park. Afghanna--only once--took the two male pups to the Junkyard, where she lived most of the time. They had some fun with the various piles of junk, but they always left in a hurry. Something there made the place seem empty and spooky.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"He'll be here. Quit pacing. Someone might think you're worried." Afghanna winked at Skip.

Skipper stopped in his tracks and glared at her, grunting. "I'm not worried about him! Nobody worries about Fang."

"You've got that right," Afghanna grinned. She laid her head down on her paws, one of them crossed over the other on the crate she was lounging on. "Fang can take care of himself."

"Not what I meant," muttered Skip.

They were in Fang's home alley. It was a Tuesday afternoon, almost evening. The sky was pink, clouds an even brighter shade of pink. The sun was dipping beneath the various buildings. Skip yawned. It was about to get dark. He hadn't slept much last night. Nightmares. Flashbacks. A nasty mix of the two. Nightmares of Crystal and Emerald.

Fang hadn't arrived an hour ago like he'd promised. Late. He was always late.

"Chill, Skip, he'll come soon."

Skip rolled his eyes. "As if. He's always--"

"Handsome? Talented? Ruler o' the Streets? Make that King. How's pickin's, gang?" Fang strolled into the alley as if he'd been gone only minutes.

Afghanna sat up. "Tick tock, romeo, you're a little bit stretched for time, aren't you?"

Fang strutted past her, hopping onto his box mound like a king to his throne. "Fashionably late. All the Street Dogs're doin' it."

Skip glared at him. When did he ever shut up and take responsibility for once in his life? But he wasn't snapping hurtful retorts, like he sometimes did when he was wrong and he knew it--and he didn't like it. That had to count for something.

"Gang, the Fangster lucked out t'day," Fang raised his eyebrows, eyelids still lowered. "We gotta new member."

"We aren't a gang," Skipper began moodily.

"New member?" Afghanna said at the exact same time.

"She'll be here in a minute or two," Fang promised.

"Not if she's following your example," Skip muttered dejectedly.

"'She'?" Afghanna paced in front of Fang's cardboard box mound, smirking up at him. "Does this mean you won't be flirting with me every day and making a slick-moved fool of yourself?"

Skip snickered. Affy's wit was priceless sometimes. The Australian Shepherd pup was probably the most clever of each of them.

"Nah. She's a House Pet." Fang scratched at an ear with a hind paw carelessly.

Afghanna stiffened. "A House Pet? You let a House Pet into the gang?"

"Who even says we're a gang?" Skip pointed out, snorting. "House Dogs are trouble, Fang, you know that."

"Wrong-o, Skipper," Fang smirked. "She'll do fine. She's got the makin's of a Street Dog. I just invited her to run free 'bout an hour ago." He acted like he'd said "I just had lunch an hour ago" instead.

Afghanna shook her head wildly, eyes shut, then opened them and straightened. "Wait, what?"

"How do you even expect her to be here, then?" Skip added, sneering, eyebrows lowered in his same scowl.

"She'll be here." Fang promised matter-of-factly. "Trust me."

"Every time you say that, the fur on the back of my neck does the Irish jig," Afghanna muttered.

Skip smirked.

"I dunno," Fang added. "She's pretty..."

"Hello?" Two large, blue eyes and a pointed milky-brown nose poked from around the corner of the entrance to the alley. "Is this the right place?"

"He-hey, princess, y'got yer collar off!" Fang greeted with a smirk. "Welcome t'the gang."

She was an orange mutt, about Skip's own age, trotting daintily into the alley. Skip saw the sparkle in her eyes when her gaze when straight to Fang and stayed on him for a long time. Then the pup continued down the alley until she stood in the center.

"Um, hello there," she repeated. Her voice was rich and melodious, with a smile already there. "I'm Rose."

Skipper saw her blush towards Fang. He arched a brow, mouth open in an O, and jerked only his head back. His lower eyelid of his left eye squinted a bit, and he blew air out of his mouth upward in a scoff, causing his head-fur to flap and then settle again.

Look at her! he wanted to knock some sense into Fang. She's as dopey as a drunk bluebird over you! He let his tongue hang out, keeping his previous expression on his face, and shook his head twice, grunting in disgust.

Then he noticed something.

Fang wasn't flirting with Rose. He wasn't winking at her. He didn't even call her 'doll'. And the way he called her 'princess' wasn't exactly friendly. He's completely oblivious! Skip realized. For once, he could've laughed aloud. The great King of the Streets doesn't notice the one female who's actually interested!

Afghanna arched a brow at Rose, eyelids lowered. "You're a little soap-scented to be following a nutcase like him around, aren't you?" she asked, jerking her head toward Fang.

"He's...I'm..." Rose blushed harder.

Afghanna may have been a tomboy, but Skip could tell that as far as Rose's emotions were concerned, Affy got the picture crystal clear.

Afghanna slid in next to Rose. "Nice to meet you," she muttered. "No worries. I get it."

Rose gave a weak, embarassed smile. Skip could have tossed up his T-Bone right there.

"Not to seem rude," Rose began.

"Oh no, anything but that!" Skip cried sarcastically.

"...But I don't know your names. And...er...you know mine." Rose looked away shyly. "Fang told me he had a gang, but..."

"This wasn't what you were expecting," Skip finished for her. He grunted. Typical.

"No, no, that's not it at all," Rose began.

"Relax. Seriously." Afghanna nudged her.

Fang hopped down from his cardboard box mound and wove around the gang, introducing his friends to Rose as he went by them. "This here's Affy--"

"My name," Afghanna interrupted, "is Afghanna. Afghanna--not Affy. Shorten my name any way you want, but don't, under any circumstances, call me Affy!" she told Rose, barely containing her frustration.

Rose raised her eyebrows. "Um...yeah, sure."

Fang darted over to Skip. "An' this's Skipper, otherwise known as shorty..."

"Fang," Skip warned, beginning to feel irritated, "knock it off. I'm not short."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Yer head comes to my eyes, pal. You're short."

"I come to your head," Rose pointed out, smiling at Fang, who didn't seem to care. "And I'm younger than you."

Afghanna laughed. "You know something, House Pet, I think you'll fit right in."

Rose grinned and barked happily.

Chapter 4

"What's that cloud look like to you, Skip?" Afghanna asked.

Skip squinted and arched a brow. "A cloud. Pick another one."

Fang blinked. "How 'bout that one?" he pointed with his nose upward. "Looks like a T-Bone steak t'me."

"With you," Skip muttered resentfully, "everything looks like a T-Bone steak."

"It kind of does." Rose defended Fang sweetly, gazing at him for a moment. "But it also looks like a heart from where I'm laying. Aff'?"

Afghanna grunted. "Looks like a bird."

The four puppies were laying on their backs, front paws bunched in front of their furry chests, in the long grass on a hill in the Park. Skip had invited them all to swim, shyly at first, and after they'd all had splashing-fight they'd decided to dry off by laying in the grass in a spiral and creating pictures out of clouds.

"That one looks like a collar!" Rose giggled.

They all moved their pupils to stare at her.

She frowned. "What?"

Skip rolled his eyes. Once a House Pet, always a House Pet.

Suddenly a bark--a shrill yap--made them all flip onto their stomachs and jerk their heads up.

"And I was just getting dry," Afghanna joked.

"Shh!" Fang snapped. "We got company, gang. Humans're comin' this way."

"What gave you that idea?" Skip muttered dryly as he and the others rose to their paws. His eyelids lowered and he curled his lip at the Golden Retriever.

"It's a House Dog. Comin' this way. ...Huh. Strayin' from its prissy owner." Fang sniffed. "Let's protect yer turf, eh, shorty? We'll ambush it."

"You see it?" Rose asked, craning her neck. "Where?"

"Other side o' the hill. Let's move!" Fang darted dramatically behind a tree and motioned for his gang to follow.

"The adventures continue," muttered Afghanna sarcastically, taking her time as she trotted up behind Fang, who had his head poked out from the tree.

"Come on!" Fang hissed.

Skip and Rose exchanged a glance and hid with Affy and the Golden Retriever pup.

"Okay, gang," Fang commanded. "Waiiiit for it...here it comes..."

As the pup came over the hill, Skip stiffened. His heart beat faster. Crystal!

He, without even hesitating, bolted out from behind the tree and took off toward her.

"What the--" Afghanna called after him.

"Whaddaya think yer doin, Skipper?" snapped Fang. "Git back 'ere! Wait fer the--ugh!" Fang trailed off, sensing it was no use. He and the girl pups stayed where they were, watching.

Skip panted, screeching to a halt right underneath the nose of the pup. He gawked. This was certainly his slightly-older sister...but she was so different! Her fur was sleek, still lemon-colored, and brushed. Her ears were fluffed at the top where they connected to her head. Her blue-green eyes were distant and not nearly as sharp and intelligent as before. And around her neck she wore a white collar.

Skipper blinked rapidly. "Crystal?"

Crystal halted, staring down at him, confused. Then her eyes lit up. He saw her jaw drop. "Sk...Skipper?" she breathed. Her voice was exactly the same.

"I...I thought I'd never see you again!" Skip didn't care who was watching. He pushed his head under her chin, nuzzling his big sister. "I looked everywhere for you!"

"Skipper..." Crystal backed away two steps. Her upper lip curled. "You're getting me dirty."

Skip sat up straight. "I'm what?" he gabbled, confused.

"My fur. You're soiling it, you see." Crystal shook herself. "Ugh. That's better."

"Wha...?" Skipper shook his head quickly, eyes widening up at her. "What happened to you? Where did they take you?"

"To a nice little shelter up the street." Crystal shrugged.

"And?" Skip remembered how good at story-telling his sister was. He knew how much she loved to tell a tale. "What happened there?"

"Bosh, really, it's all rather dull to tell," Crystal said dismissively in her clipped half-British young accent, looking behind her. She licked a tuft of fur that stuck out on her shoulder flat. But her eyes sparkled with the ache to tell a story and she said anyway, "At first I was frightened, but it turned out all right. They gave me to a nice old woman and her teenage granddaughter. They took me in and gave me a home."

"That's it?" Skip began to become outraged. "And you didn't try to leave?"

Crystal looked confused. "Why would I want to?"

"To look for me!" Skip burst out, leaping to his paws. "Like I looked for you, every day for weeks and weeks! To make sure I was okay!"

Crystal looked away guiltily.

Skipper stared at her, waiting for an answer. When it didn't come, he murmured, "Did you even miss me at all?"

Crystal turned her head. "O-Of course I did," she blustered.

"Not enough, though." Skip lifted his chin and glared at her. "If you cared or missed me at all you would've tried to find me. You wouldn't have stopped."

"Skipper, I do care!" Crystal protested.

"Oh, yeah?" Skip snorted. "Then come with me. We can live together again, like we used to."

"It can't be that way anymore. Mum's gone. I-It won't be the same." Crystal's voice shook. "Besides, I...I have a home now, and a family who happens to worship the ground I walk on, thank you very much."

Skip's mouth hung open. He couldn't believe it. She didn't care about him anymore! She'd forgotten everything their mother had taught them. Stay together, protect each other, defend the weak! All of it, gone from her mind!

"I guess that's it, huh?" Skip growled. "You forgot me. You forgot your own brother! Did you even think about what it was like? I was alone out here! Starving, while you were living the cushy-pillow life!"

"Well...that's not...I mean, yes, but..." Crystal struggled to reply, choked with guilt. "But you turned out all right. And I can visit you!"

"No thanks." Skip turned his back on her and began walking away. "House Pets like you don't mix with Street Dogs like me."

"Skipper, wait!"

But Skip didn't listen. He just went back to the tree. He knew Fang and the others had been listening to every word as best they could by the looks on their faces.

"Bummer," Fang murmured.

"What kind of a House Dog is she?" Rose exclaimed furiously. "She didn't even say she was sorry! Poor Skip!"

"It's fine," Skip sighed.

"Doesn't sound fine to me," Afghanna said, moving in beside him, pressing against him just like Crystal used to do. "She's your sister; you've gotta feel something after what she said." Afghanna raised her head and glared at Crystal, who was yapping around a teenage girl's ankles. "I'd like to give that ritzy kibble-eater a piece of my mind!"

"Don't," Skip sighed. "I don't need her."

"Exactly why we should put 'er outta 'er misery." Fang crouched. "I call the ears t'chew on!"

"Guys, I said don't," Skip repeated. "I mean it, I don't need her."

"You don't?" Afghanna arched a brow disbelievingly.

"But she's your sister!" Rose burst out, still glowering at Crystal from afar.

"All I need is you guys," Skipper promised. "You're my best friends."

"Sounds like a pact to me," Afghanna glanced around at them. "Best friends, eh, Fang?"

"B'fore we get all mushy, let's just do it." Fang put a forepaw down in the grass. "Best friends, from now until th'end, never leavin' each other or lettin' any of us down?"

"I'm in." Afghanna immediately placed her paw onto Fang's.

"Duh!" Rose giggled and put her paw down.

Skip looked at each of them. Cocky Fang. Clever Afghanna. Sweet Rose. He didn't deserve friends like these. They weren't even friends; they were family.

Family...

And he put his paw down beside theirs.

THE END!