Author's Note: Updating again (sorry for the delay). Third bit, and the first of two bits I had not intended to write. But Tasermon's Partner asked for bits from Ed and Ein's points of view, and frankly I took that as a challenge. (Yes, there is an Ed bit coming.) It is incredibly hard to write from a dog's point of view, even an assumedly self-aware dog. So anyway. Thanks to frouella, the above-mentioned Tasermon's Partner, and Felix von renselear for reviewing, and thanks to all the people who have been reading this. Anyway. On with da show.
Two-legs confuse me. I don't think I'll ever understand why some of them will stubbornly refuse to hunt as a pack, when clearly that's the best way to do things.
But maybe I'm being unfair. All I know is what I saw on what the two-legs call the news. Assistant two-legs had turned it on; he's the only one in this pack who cares about that sort of thing.
Maybe I shouldn't have left my old pack. I mean, it was always perfectly clear to me that they needed someone to look after them. They had always done silly things. I can remember Big two-legs almost falling for a trap I could smell from three feet away, even though it was on what Little two-legs called the internet. If it hadn't been for me, I think he might have died.
Then there was She two-legs. She needed looking after almost as much as Little two-legs does, even though I don't think she'd ever admit it. I remember her coming back a lot of times from what ever the two-legs did upset, once in a while hurt, and very occasionally so scared I could smell it from across the room, even over those nasty sticks all the grown two-legs liked. I still don't understand why she and Alpha two-legs weren't a mated pair.
Then there's Little two-legs. She's the reason I left the old pack; I personally had no complaints. They fed me tolerably well, and understood that I was smarter than most of my kind. I wish I could say the same for my current pack on that count, but oh well. But Little two-legs wanted to leave and find a new pack; I got the impression she did that often. And, well, someone has to look after Little two-legs. She doesn't have that instinctive fear of strangers that most of the two-legs have developed in self-defense, and sometimes I think she has less sense than a puppy without it's eyes open yet.
But Alpha two-legs was a different matter entirely. He was a loner by nature, but he was very good at the business of survival. I've seen him carried home, more than once, with injuries that should have killed him. He always woke up after a little while. Things seem to be different this time, and I don't know why.
I've known since the very first that Alpha two-legs was someone to trust. I know that he said often and loudly that he didn't like me, but I don't think he knew how to like anybody. And granted, our first meeting did very little to inspire like, what with the whole jumping on his head and knocking him in the river. But after he got used to me, he'd let me sit up on the sofa with him. I'd like to think he liked my companionship. Heaven knows he needed it.
I'm not sure anyone else besides me knew about the hurt he had inside. It wasn't the kind of hurt that you sit and lick and it gets better after a while. It was something else, and he didn't know how to fix it any better than I did. He was very good; I'm sure I was the only dog who could smell it on him, and two-legs are notoriously bad at figuring each other out.
It's very odd. I had always thought that Alpha two-legs was the one who would be fine, the one who would get along perfectly well on his own. When the Bad Thing got on the ship, the pest hurt the entire pack (except apparently Little two-legs), including me. I have fuzzy memories of Alpha two-legs finding me in the ventilation after I had lost a fight with it. And then when we all woke up, the Bad Thing was gone. Alpha two-legs recovered faster than all of us. I thought it would always be that way.
But according to this news, it appears I was wrong. The two-legs on the news said that he was in what they called a hospital. I assume it's the two-legs version of the vet's. From what I hear, the two-legs certainly feel the same way about the hospital that I do about the vet.
I can't ever remember the old pack taking him to the hospital. They always brought him home, which is one of the few sensible things they did. So I can only assume that his injuries are more serious this time.
I had thought that after the first fight with the rabid two-legs, Alpha two-legs would have realized that the best way to go after dangerous prey is with the whole pack. But he didn't; I can tell from what the news says.
Two-legs confuse me.