For the Love of a Dog

Chapter 1: Dixie

A/N: This is my first story here on Fanfiction; I've been stalking for a while, and have now mustered the courage to join ^_^. Anywho, tell me what you think

Dislaimer: I don't own the Avengers- Just Dixie ^_^

Steve walked casually through the park, whistling under his breath. There weren't many people out and about; it being noon on a Wednesday. Steve contented himself with listening to a few birds calling out from their places in the trees.

The birds were disturbed by a blur of red that shot from a bush. A large, pregnant dog looked up at him, panting. Her eyes were big and brown, and her ears hung low. One large, mud-caked paw raked down Steve's left leg, dirtying his khaki pants. Steve stepped back in surprise when the dog lifted herself onto her hind legs, putting a front paw on his shoulder and licking his face.

"Whoa, there, get down, girl," Steve said, grabbing her paw and removing it from his shoulder.

He reached for the other, but grasped empty air as the dog let herself down. She looked up at him with a doggy-smile and a quiet woof. Steve gave her a half-smile in return as he dusted himself off. She looked to be a bloodhound, but had large spots of various shades of red and cream dotting her body and face. And she only had three legs. Her front left leg was completely gone, and her muzzle was scarred, like she had fought with other dogs a lot. Anger bubbled within him at the thought of such cruelty.

But the dog's temperament seemed all wrong to have been a fighting dog- she came up and greeted him happily, like he was a lost friend. He would think that a fighting dog wouldn't be so trusting, and would be cowed by the sight of a large human such as himself. As Steve pondered this, he patted the dog on the head, feeling her neck for a collar.

She had one- made of soft leather, and Steve looked briefly at the tag attached to it. Dixie, it read. Steve turned it over, but there was nothing else to be seen. Dixie tossed her head a bit, causing him to let go of the tag, and put her head in his hand. She had obviously been loved.

"Dixie, huh?" Steve asked with a chuckle, scratching the dog behind her ear. "Where's your owner, girl?"

Dixie woofed and hobbled a circle around Steve. She was surprisingly quick on her three legs. Steve chuckled at the dog's antics. She seemed like a sweet old dog, and Steve thought it a shame for her to be roaming alone. But perhaps someone was looking for her; a kind person who'd be ecstatic to have their dog back. Steve patted Dixie on the side, and with these thoughts, looked around the park for anyone who could've been the dog's owner. What few people who had been in this part of the park had moved on. Dixie whined at his feet, looking up at him with sad eyes.

Steve patted her again, and the dog rewarded him with a thump of her tail to his leg. Looking down at the dog again, Steve stepped away and whistled for her to follow him. Dixie happily complied, and hopped along after him as he walked toward the entrance of the park and from then to his apartment. After all; it would be a shame to see such a sweet dog end up in a pound somewhere.

It then occurred to Steve that the dog would need food, and a leash. Of course, he wouldn't be keeping her forever, but until she could be returned to her owner, Dixie needed something. Steve knew of one pet shop near his apartment, but he was sure that unless she had a leash, Dixie wouldn't be too welcome. Maybe he could let her stay alone in his apartment while he got everything. But images of his living room being turned into a war zone of fluffy pillow and couch stuffing and broken glass banished the thought from his head. Dixie would have to go into the shop with him. As the pair neared the pet store, Steve hooked his fingers under Dixie's collar. The doors opened automatically, and a cashier glanced up at him with a bored expression. Dixie used what moving room she had to sniff at tanks full of fish and little fish food shakers. Fish and reptiles were near the front of the store, and to the sides were aisles of dog and cat products. At the back of the store were rodents and birds.

As Steve made his way to the dog section of the store, he caught a glimpse of the rodents caged in the back of the store. A small shiver went up his spine when a new thought sprang into his head. Perhaps Dixie wasn't a fighting dog. Perhaps instead, she was a hunting dog who had gotten caught in a trap. And if she was… All hell would break loose if she caught scent of the rodents in the back of the store. With this thought in mind, Steve quickly selected a long leash, two solid food bowls, and a ten-pound bag of food.

Dixie's eyes narrowed. Her nostrils flared, and her ears perked up slightly. Steve followed her gaze directly to a ferret cage. Steve tugged a bit on her collar, walking quickly to the cashier's counter. The quicker they left the store, the better.

The cashier saw the trouble brewing and quickly scanned the items, taking Steve's money quickly and giving back his change. Dixie growled lowly as Steve pocketed his forty-two cents, and was about to slip from his grasp when the man quickly moved for the exit.

Outside the store Steve quickly leashed the dog, before leading her down the sidewalk with the leash and bag that held the food bowls in one hand and the dog food under his other arm.