Your Redemption: Chapter Two: Welcome to Your New Life....It's the Only One You're Getting, so Get Used to it!

Javert awoke to the sensation of cold. This, he discovered, was from the concrete he was lying on. It was smooth and polished, almost black, and nicked from hundreds of previous claw marks. Upon awaking, he didn't quite understand why he was lying on a stone floor until the realization that he was dead, then alive, and now a dog struck him....Oh yeah....great......

He felt groggy and his limbs felt stiff as he tried to stand, and he yawned repeatedly. He felt placating and tired, and there was a groggy mellowness that he could not shake off. A large white Samoyed across from him advised drinking a little water. That tended to shake the medication.

Javert could not contemplate why he had been given any sort of medicine, seeing as he was neither sick, nor was he human, and had no means to pay for such expensive relief. Well, it was done now and there was nothing he could do about, and he searched for some water. A small dish at the front end corner of his cage held water, but he no longer had thumbs. Sighing, he reminded himself that dogs drank even with their lack of thumbs, and, feeling horribly embarrassed at the thought, stooped his nose down and took a long, satisfying drink. He felt surprisingly better, and stretched himself out to full capacity before leisurely taking a look around.

Javert was given a series of tests over several days. Health tests, stress tests, sociability tests. He under went them all with enormous patience, figuring the sooner he got these over with, the sooner he could leave. In his moments of quite, he studied the surroundings he found himself in.

He found row after row of dogs in cages identical to his own, all of which had paper pinned to the front stating their identification. Curious as to what his said, he asked the fluffy white dog that had helped him previously to read to him what the sign said. The dog stared incredulously back and responded that, like all dogs, he only knew the letters; he could not form them into words.

Javert sighed with a hint of a growl. So, back it was to a life of illiterate fools, was it? He told him that would be enough, and stuttering, he began to try.

"N....A....M...E...." It made no sense in French, but from his limited amount of English, it seemed familiar to Javert. The Samoyed, Nick, continued on. "B....E....A...R..."

"Bear?" he shouted incredulously. "What stupid idiot named me Bear?" There was a shout of "Hey Bear" that came up from the other dogs with boredom and lack of interest. Javert, or Bear, which ever you prefer, continued to grumble about how they could have at least picked a descent name for him like Gaston, or Louie. Nick seemed rather surprise at this, and inquired as to why they would be better. When Javert, er, Bear explained that he was French, Nick's eyes lit up.

"Hey, there's this Poodle down the row from me, do you think you could-"

Javert interrupted him by informing him he hadn't the slightest interest, and told him just to keep reading. Snorting, but respecting his take charge attitude, as most dogs do, he continued.

"I...D...E...N...T...I...F....C....A....T....I...O...N.....N....U....M.....B.....E....R..... Hey, all it is is numbers now. Should I continue?"

"Yes, yes. Identification Number what?"

"2.....4.....6....0....1....Is that good?"

...

P.O.V

Javert

East Side Animal Shelter, New York City, New York.

Present Day

I visibly blanch. I am in a prison. A prison for dogs. And not only that, they'd given me Valjean's number! I begin a huge baying and barking, which makes the other dogs join in.

"Curse you Holy Spirit! I swear I will have my revenge! If you think this is funny just wait till I get my hands on you!"

Nick gives me a funny look but, thankfully, doesn't ask what the hell I'm talking about. The dogs stop barking, I'm trying to drown my sorrows in my water dish. Looking up, I realize why.

Someone's walked in. A lady, about twenty one I would guess, wearing the strangest clothes I have ever seen. The others don't seem too alarmed by it, but they have jumped up on their cage doors, waging their tails and barking happily. Idiots. She pauses by a couple of the cages, but I soon loose interest, and go back to trying to commit suicide in my dog dish. Who cares if I'm going to Hell this time? It can't be any worse than this. She's continued walking, and, after briefly looking Nick over, turns around, and sees me.

She's really not so bad a person, I suppose. Her hair is held so that it bobs down like a tail in the back, and it's a lovely shade of sort of a Hazlenutty brown. Her eyes are a nice shade of golden brown, Hazel I suppose, but their gold color outweighs any green that might have imbedded itself into them. She's smiling, and I notice she has very straight, nice white teeth. I come to my senses to realize I'm staring at her, and she's staring at me.

Ignoring her, I shove my nose back into the water dish, but she's waving her hand to an attendant, and I realize my English is better than I thought.

"I like him. Is he up for adoption?"

Adoption? What does she mean adoption? The attendant briefly flips through the papers on my cage door, murmuring words here and there.

"It looks like it. I'll get you a leash." She does so, and returns, opening the door. I shrink back in terror. Of what I'm not sure, but the hands continue to reach out to me and snag the band of leather around my neck I'd failed to notice earlier. They lead me out of the room and into a smaller, warmer lobby. The girl is signing forms and exchanging green pieces of paper for small, round, colorful tags. Yawning, I sit down at her feet, feeling the medication take over again. Without realizing it, I've slumped against her leg and sigh...contentedly? No, just tiredly. There's nothing contenting about this whole situation.

"Come on Cojack," she says happily, tugging on the leash. Cojack? I go from Javert, to Bear, to Cojack? Well, I suppose anything's better than Bear. Well, no.... I saw one lady naming her cat "Shnookie." Bear is better than Shnookie any day.

I haven't the faintest idea as to where we're going until she leads me to a red monster. Tail between my legs in fright, I tug on that leash as hard as I can. Anything to escape, to get away from here! The monster has no head, so that the elements create it extremely vulnerable. The girl is not to be denied, for she scoops me up and carries me into it, plopping me onto a seat next to her.

The seats of the red monster aren't that bad. They are creamy colored leather, with cream colored bands of some sort of fabric wrapping around the front of me and prohibiting my movement. As the monster begins to roar and move along, music plays from a small box in the center, and I sniff if cautiously. The girl laughs, petting me, which I don't appreciate, and calls it a radio, whatever that is. I decide to ignore, and watch the world go by in blurring colors. It was almost enjoyable.....Almost exciting!

To Be Continued.....