Chapter 7: Bad Dog Coming

As he continued to lumber home, Ralph bearly acknowledged that he was passing by Bowser's home on Mario Dr, then Clyde's house on PacMan Ln. All he could focus on was getting home, which was just one more street over now. Down the one little rinky-dink road that'd lead him to Mr.Litwak's Pet Shop at the end of it.

Kicking a stone angrily out of the way, the massive pooch lowered his head and kept on his way, getting more and more annoyed by the falling mist... and by what had been said back at the Bad-Anon meeting.

Those mutts said they understood...yeah, right. He narrowed his eyes as the light drizzle that had begun to fall from the clouds above him became a little heavier, making the air seem even thicker. None of those stupid mutts seem to get what it's like be as big or as clumsy or as quick-tempered as I am...

And none of them are compared to Mr. Perfect Paws back at Mr.Litwak's like I am, that's for sure, Ralph thought mockingly with a low growl.They don't get what it's like to be judged as a bad dog, seen as a bad dog all your life- and now made even worse with adorable Felix being around...

Those dogs don't understand any of it at all! he sighed hopelessly, his heart pounding in rage- and pain. No one really does...and no one really cares, either...

Suddenly coming to the stop sign at the end of the long road he was on, Ralph half-heartedly sighed and then looked miserably up at the sky. Maybe he was looking for an answer, a sign written in the sky...wishing to look anywhere than down at his stupid, abnormal, good-for-nothing huge paws.

But all looking up did for the disheartened mastiff was get more drizzle than his eyes could handle.

Lowering his head in order to shield his eyes again, Ralph looked down the empty street to the right of him- surprised that he was already at the road his home was on. He guessed mentally bellyaching about his horrible life did make the trek home seem a lot shorter than it did when he departed earlier that night.

As he mosied down his ill-lit, bumpy street, Ralph's mind filled with the DNA thing they had talked about back the meeting...

And the more he chewed over it, the more he regrettably questioned just how right he had been back there.

Maybe -just maybe- Ralph had been wrong. Maybe his adamant stubbornness had been for the incorrect cause this whole time.

Ralph really did do a lot of things that a standard, everyday bull mastiff would do, after all- things that seem to come naturally for him...Just like it was in hishis DNA...

He was always guarding, whether he really wanted to or not, whether he was even conscious of it or not...He was somewhat quiet, not much for conversation with other animals or barking at strange humans unless provoked enough...He was built big and powerful- and often could use it to his advantage...

Just like an everyday bull mastiff.

But Ralph also realized that there were things he had or did that no other bull mastiff seemed to have or seemed to do... things that no other dog seemed to have or do. Things that were solely in his personal DNA.

Things like grow obnoxiously large paws and constantly trip over them, for instance. And things like not doing so well with squirrels or rabbits...or cats.

As the mere mental image of a feline in all it's 'glory', Ralph shuddered- and quickly abandoned his line of thought. Any line of thinking that lead him to picture felines wasn't a mindset Ralph cared to have.

Instead, he thought about how he often chewed up too many shoes...how he dug too many holes in the yard (large holes, too)...how he was so stinking big in size that it was impossible not to be constantly bumping into the petshop's shelves and accidentally breaking things left and right...

How he was always tripping over something (usually his clumsy, awkwardly large paws)...how he always ate way more than a bowlful of food at each setting...how his voice was always rougher, lower than the average dog's...

Deep down inside, Ralph knew he had no control over any of that, none whatsoever. How he acted or was built so bull mastiff-y or otherwise- it was just who he was. What he was...

So maybe...he really couldn't control if he was a bad or good dog, either? Maybe no matter how hard he fought, no matter how badly he wanted to be... DNA did have everything to do with why he acted the way he acted, why he was everything he was - and he never would get to choose?...

So...maybe I really am doomed to be a bad dog forever?...

His heart aching even more, the mastiff sighed and kept trudging his way home. He kept his head low- half the reason being due from the drizzle and half due to feeling like pure, nasty scum.

This sickening feeling only got worse when out of the corner of his eye, Ralph suddenly saw two young beagle pups playing outside a few houses ahead. They were playing an exciting and childish game of 'chase the tail' -made all the more fun and challenging in the rain...when they spotted the large bull mastiff heading their way.

"Watch out! Bad dog coming!" one pup shrieked, pushing his friend closer to their home- and without even a moment of hesitation, both raced up the steps and slipped inside into their cozy home through their small doggie door.

Inwardly growling at their reaction to his presence, Ralph rolled his eyes dismissively at the pups and continued on his way... but still couldn't help but feel completely irritated by the comment. He got comments like that often by others for sure- but Ralph couldn't just deny that it still stung him inside every he did.

Narrowing his eyes sharply, Ralph forced his mind back on the road, on his home- although he couldn't help but feel his steps becoming heavier and rougher, as was his sour mood.

That kind of judgment isn't fair! he mentally hissed, his huge paws pounding on the pavement. What did I ever do to them, anyway?! What did I ever do to anyone here in Arcadia? No one here has any reason to judge me like that!... To say and act and treat me like I'm just a bad dog!...

Heaving slightly, Ralph decided then and there he was just done.

Done dealing with the stupid DNA arguement. Done with the judgement he got. Done with other animals running away in fear. Done everyone avoiding him...

Done with all the pain and guilt and rejection he felt inside...

Done with just accepting that he was a 'bad dog'.

Shaking his head bitterly, the mastiff noticed that he was only a dozen buildings down from his home now- and the few street lights the road had were annoyingly out again. The pitch black clouds above him looked more and more threateningly close to bursting out a flood of rain at any moment, making the night even darker and most ominous.

But not nearly as dark or as ominous as Ralph felt.

Those mutts back at that pathetic meeting may have accepted who they are- but that doesn't mean that I have to, he growled to himself in determination, finding himself beginning to run home.

It didn't matter what his DNA said; Ralph wasn't going to be the bad dog anymore- nor allow himself to be treated like one ever again.