He sees Annette, out of the corner of his eye. But she does not see him. She does not even recognise him, but that is understandable. After all, his scent changed after puberty and he is covered in disfiguring scars.
For someone to recognise him, it would have been a miracle.
He watches from his porch as his sister continues across the street with a stiff boarded woman. She came and went like smoke, he had a chance to call out and let her know (I'm here, I'm alive, I'm fine). But he didn't. He just did not possess the energy or the will; he did not possess anything these days.
The Sun could not warm him and the flowers could not brighten his day. It is a dark and lonely place, this other side of happiness.
At night, he and Angle curl up in their basket. Sometimes he doesn't even know she's there. Sometimes he does not understand why he's here at all. He hasn't noticed yet, but he has not talked or looked at Angle for four weeks.
She's okay; she is fine with being the pillow that is warmer than the others for a reason Scamp doesn't know why. She has had her fun and adventure with Scamp, she had his time and love. Now as a grown dog, all she wants is pups, and she had managed to get that out of him just before his mind slipped away.
She licks her swollen belly, looking at the pink and swelling teats, soon, soon they will be coming.
Her and Scamp are both small dogs, the basket has enough space for the new additions she has managed to grow.
She's okay; she is fine with this. After all, it was him not her who had to watch the young child of the master's be killed- be torn apart. It was him not her who held the crazed dogs off for as long as he could, but was just too small, was just not strong enough, and so had to listen to the screams of the young child. The two had been chasing squirrels and the next moment…
Scamp called himself a failure after that, he called himself a disgrace, a dog was man's protector, they're best friend -he might as well just not call himself a dog.
Angle licks her tummy again; it's started to hurt in the last few hours. She hopes they take after Scamp, in those rugged looks he used to have before the mauling. She knows she has grown ugly over time, her fur getting thick and coarse, her teeth buckling and yellowing, her snout developing more and more squashed and pig like.
She spends her time praying for her pup's good fortune, because their father is too far gone for one small force such as God to intervene his road of self-loathing.
The pups, a girl and boy, grow up with a helicopter Mother they can't shake off and quickly learn to detest, as well as a father who can't even recognise or name them. Samuel and Lucy are more than happy when it comes for their turn to leave home.
Angle very quickly sinks into depression besides Scamp.
This is what happens when a child is killed young and the family falls apart, people say that the parents are suffering, but, it's usually the dogs that end up the worst of them all. They are attuning so much more than humans; they are known to take on humans feelings. Dogs rely on humans to care and feed and play and give them a good life.
If the masters are too busy drowning their sorrows in wine and violence…well than...
No matter how intelligent, you cannot transvers the fence, you cannot break off your chain and you cannot ever shake yourself of depression if you are alone.