Disclaimer: Dog City doesn't belong to me, but I wish it did ...
Summary: Ace remembers the past.
AN: I actually got a review for More than Paint on Paper, and was inspired for another one-shot. This one, however, might turn into a mini-series of Ace's memories of the past.
I remember a breezy spring morning when I first saw him. He was a young dog almost out of animation school, and I was initially his final project. I'll admit I was offended at first, that was until I realized he was an emotional sap that didn't have the heart to toss me and my facial profiles in the bin with the rest of them. Instead, he looked at me. I mean really looked at me for the first time and saw the potential the two of us held, together.
He was sitting under a tree, working on what was to be my now trademark trenchcoat and pinstripe pants with brown loafers. His expression was so focussed as he sketched different outfits in the spaces of his sketchbook. Holding down the page with the side of his paw and smiling as he put the finishing touches onto my hat, something happened. Something deep within me was sparked into a small flame. I didn't know what it was, and wouldn't sniff it out until years later when he needed me the most.
"Hey Shag!" The both of us looked up at the call just in time for the kid to catch a frisbee flying full speed in the nose. Ouch.
"You're such a wuss Shag!" The jock jeered as Eliot held his nose. I discovered that day that the kid was a pacifist, not willing to start a fight. Me on the other paw, was not above petty revenge at the time. I've matured beyond that now, but I still get a sense of satisfaction when I think about it and the look on his face when the punk realized he'd flunked with a capital F on his history exam. He hadn't really, but I'd skipped to his paper and changed his grade just before he'd got it back from his professor.
"Ace . . ." I turned and found my surroundings turning fuzzy.
"Ace, I'm home. Wake up." Something shoved my shoulder, I turned around in my doggy bed and opened a bleary eye.
"Kid?" Eliot was home from his vacation with Terri and Artie, and for a minute I saw the young dog that had occupied my dreams, the boy with bright eyes and filled with potential. It was then I knew that we were in for a busy season.
I couldn't wait.