Please know that as an animal lover, it was hard for me to write this chapter. So a lot of this content isn't well detailed. Hope y'all understand.

This chapter contains animal cruelty as well as violence and horrific scenes. Viewer discretion is advised.

I do not own NCIS or its characters, including Lucy Dog.

Also, I've left an important message at the end of this chapter. It's vital that you read it!

I was kept in that small kennel for a number of days. Not sure the exact number. I'd lost count after seven. The rain wasn't much help either. All it did was make me and the other dogs wet with the droplets that found their way through cracks in the roof. What was worse, the rain made it colder. Most of us had to remain curled into balls for hours a day just to contain even a hint of warmth. Barley, Buttons and Wheels were lucky to have each other to keep warm. The dogs who had no one else in their kennels like Spike and me had to endure the cold alone. It made me miss the dog beds I used to sleep on.

But our owner didn't give us dog beds. He didn't give us treats or toys either. All he did give us was food. He'd come to see us once a day and fill our food and water bowls. The food was dried pellets that had an unpleasant stale flavor. But it was the only edible thing available to us.

He would also allow a dog or two out of their kennels and bring them outside. Every time they returned, they were covered in sweat and blood. At first I'd thought that maybe those dogs were playing too rough with one another. Then I took noticed of how even the nicest dogs like Spike would return with fresh wounds all over them. I tried to ask a couple of times of how my friends had ended up with them. Spike's answer was always the same. "Our owner likes to play rough games." He never explained what those games were. Neither did Barley, Buttons or Wheels. I hadn't known at the time that the games our owner had us play weren't the fun ones any dog wants to play.

Finally, one day, I was let out. My owner put a heavy chain around my neck and made me follow him out. I stumbled a few times before finding my balance. After being locked behind bars for so long, I was relieved to be able to stretch my legs again. Oh, how I longed to just run out in the sun all day. If only I didn't have that chain wrapped around me or I would have.

"Good luck out there, Lucy" Spike told me as I walked passed his kennel.

"Thanks" I said happily. "I'll be sure not to play so rough with our owner."

He frowned. So did the three siblings. "Just don't let him play too rough with you" Barley warned me.

I wish that I'd paid better attention to how those dogs acted when they mentioned playing with our owner. Or at least urged harder for answers about the games our owner played with us. Instead of becoming overly excited to be taken outside in the sunshine and feel the soft grass underneath my cracked paws. Oh, I cannot describe how good it felt to finally be outside after being in that kennel for who knows how many days! It was the best moment I had in a long time.

My owner then picked me up and put me in a cage in the back of his truck. I hated being caged again. But at least I wasn't alone. Another dog was in a cage next to mine. A Pit Bull with white and shaded patches, one of which was over one of his eyes. I couldn't believe it. The dog I met at the shelter was here.

I greeted him happily. "Hey, it's you!"

"What?" He turned to me as his body trembled.

"It's me, remember?"

He sniffed me. "You're from that one shelter right?"

"Right!"

"I… I thought you got adopted by a nice couple?"

I frowned. "They surrendered me after I wasn't able to protect them. But then I was adopted by this man. Did he adopt you too?"

He shrugged. "Two months ago. He adopted me from the shelter and took me here." His body still shook.

"That's great! I'm so glad we have the same owner. Oh, by the way, I call myself Lucy now. Have you picked out a name for yourself yet?"

He sighed. "Guess you can called me Charlie. It was what my first owners called me and I've always liked it."

Even though it was great to see Charlie again, he seemed very timid. But he had been so cheerful at the shelter. Why was he so distant now? Did something happen since the last time we'd seen each other? He became more skittish when our owner placed another cage with a dog in it. This dog was completely white like my mom was. Only he was much muscular than her and his ears were pointed upwards. Charlie leaned against the end of his cage as the bigger dog stared at us with his piercing brown eyes.

As our owner began to drive us away, I got the courage to talk to the new dog. "Hi, I'm Lucy. And this is…"

"Charlie" the white dog spoke with a very low tone. "Yes, we've met."

Charlie still trembled. "Hello, Mulch."

I sensed a chilly tension between those two. How did they know each other? Were their kennels close to one another like mine was with Spike's. But then, why did Charlie seem so scared to be near Mulch? The bigger dog didn't appear scary. The only thing that was worrisome about him were the countless scars he had on his neck, shoulders and muzzle. I assumed that he must play rough too.

After awhile, our owner stopped at a large house that looked just as worn out as our barn. He quickly carried us in it while we were still locked in our cages. I could smell the scents of countless other dogs from inside that house. As well as a dozen or so humans, a lot of bad smells that made my nose stiff up, and a new bird smell I'd never detected before.

The moment I was brought inside, I was met with a display I'd never witnessed before. On all sides of the house, there were male humans lined up in a circle shouting with joy. Some of them had small sticks in their mouths that made smoke, which brought a nasty odor to my nose. But what really gave me chills was what I saw in the center of the house. Two birds with wild feathered styles on their heads were facing one another. Their wings fluffed up as they did some kind of dance around each other. Then one of them wack one across his face with its talons, which had a very sharp claw on the side of it. The humans yelled louder as the birds continued to wack one another again and again. I couldn't bear to witness this, so I shut my eyes tight. How could these humans enjoy watching this? Didn't they know that those birds were hurting each other? When I didn't hear anymore squawking, I opened one of my eyes to see what had happened. I wish I hadn't, cause one of those poor birds was lying on his side and wasn't moving. It released a scent I'd never detected before. I would later learn that it was called death.

In the cages besides mine, Spike had put his paws over his head and backed up in the far end of his cage. Mulch was laid down with his front right paw over his left paw and his eyes were closed as he muttered words I couldn't understand. "What are you doing?" I asked him.

Mulch opened his eyes. "I always pray before a fight."

A fight? Was that like wrestling? The kind I used to play with my siblings and Izzy? I'd always enjoyed playing that game with them. Was that why our owner brought us here? To play wrestling? Was that what those birds were doing? That looked a bit intense for simple playing to me.

My thoughts were interrupted when I heard the humans shout to the bird that was still moving in the center. "The winner!" One man called him as he lifted the bird up and put him in a smaller cage. The bird that wasn't moving was put into a black bag that was tossed onto a pile of other black bags. The bird the humans called Winner, was placed by our cages. Sniffing him up close, I smelled lots of other different birds on him. But it was all that blood covering his talons that was the most overwhelming.

"Hi, I'm Lucy" I spoke gently to him. "What's your name? Are you here to wrestle too?"

The bird squawked at me. "Las cosas que he visto. Las cosas que he hecho. Horrores que no puedes imaginar, perro." I had no idea what he said. Never heard any of those words before.

"Do you know what that bird just said?" I asked him.

Mulch shook. "You do not want to know, kid."

Before I could remind him that my name was Lucy not Kid, our owner came back with another man. They took me and Mulch out of the cages, put chains around our necks, and led us to the center of the ring. The center was filled with dusty dirt and the humans who yelled were behind wooden boards that covered their bottom parts. Everyone yelled louder as I was put in the very center with Mulch facing me.

"These humans sure are excited to see us wrestle" I said as my owner took the chain off me and rushed out of the ring.

The other human took Mulch's chain off of him and ran. "We won't be wrestling, kid" Mulch told me.

I wanted to ask if we wouldn't be wrestling, then what were we doing here? But then there was a loud ringing noise that made all of the humans shout "fight!" And before I knew it, Mulch took hold of the back of my neck. With the scruff of my neck in his mouth, he threw me against one of the wooded boards. My head hit it so hard that it was all black for a moment. Even though my vision was slightly dizzy, I could still sense Mulch coming up and licking me. "Are you okay, Lucy?" He licked the back of my bleeding neck.

I'd lifted my head and gave him a questioning look. "Why did you do that? That really hurt!"

"Look around us. They love it."

The "they" he was referring to were the humans all shouting and cheering at us. They didn't seem to care that I was bleeding or that my head really hurt. In fact, those humans called out happily watching us battle. How could they be enjoying this? Mulch bit me and threw me against a wooded board. Wasn't anyone going to scold him for doing something so naughty or help heal my wounds?

Surprisingly, the only one who did help me was Mulch. Putting his head under my chin, he assisted in getting me back on my feet. "The humans love to watch us fight. The more blood that we spill, the louder they cheer. Our pain is their entertainment."

Entertainment? How could anyone think that watching the suffering of animals was enjoyable to watch? I didn't understand. Humans were supposed to be our best friends. Our families. Why did they laugh as I was bleeding?

"More!" That voice. It couldn't be. Could it? But when I looked to the side where the voice came from, I saw in disbelief that my owner was standing with the shouting humans. His arms were crossed as he watched us with a grin. How was this right? He was enjoying watching Mulch hurt me too? But he was our owner. He should care for us as we did for him. Didn't he know that I was in pain? Still, he shouted "come on! Fight, morons!"

Taking a deep breath, Mulch took a step away from me. "Forgive me, kid. But I must obey."

Before I knew it, he took another bite at me. This time, it was my shoulder. After shaking me, he swiped his paw across my face. As blood dripped below my eye, the humans cheered harder. Finally, he head butted me hard enough to make me loose my balance. Once my body hit the ground, there was another ring sound. A man came up to us and put a chain around Mulch's neck and shouted "the winner!"

The wounds Mulch had inflicted on me stung so much. I'd wished one of those humans had tried to tend to them. But none of them did. Not even my owner. All he did was put me back in my cage and locked it. After Mulch was put back in his cage, our owner was given greenish papers from another human. He seemed pretty excited to have that green stuff. They didn't smell edible and I didn't think they would be fun to place with. What was so special about green papers that made humans like my owner so happy?

When they loaded us back onto our owner's truck, Mulch glanced at me. "You alright, kid?"

I took one look at him and shivered. This dog attacked and inflicted deep wounds on me. How could I trust him after what he did to me? And yet, he did try to help me stand back up, licked me when I was wounded, and was talking to me in a sweet and gentle tone. I'm not sure why, but it made me trust him. "No! No, I'm not alright!" It all just came out at once. "All of those humans… They were enjoying you wounding me... And our owner… Our owner just stood there and watched." I whined, not because of the pain my wounds gave me. But from the wounds deep inside me from the pain our owner gave me.

Charlie glanced at me. "Our owner made Mulch fight me too."

I turned to him with a surprised look. Charlie had to fight with Mulch too? Was that why he seemed so skittish around him earlier? Were his scars from Mulch?

"But it wasn't just him" Charlie explained further. "Our owner makes us fight other dogs too. Just three days ago, I had to fight with a shorter dog who I'd accidentally given a nasty mark on his ear. Oh, I feel so guilty for hurting that gentle Wheels."

Wheels? Did he mean that he had caused that notch near the end of my friend's ear? I almost didn't believe it. Kind-hearted Charlie had given Wheels such a bad scar that he would have for the rest of his life. "Why did you do it?" I asked him.

"Our owner" Mulch answered for him. "He… He wants us to fight each other in rings while other humans watch us for pleasure."

My eyes widen in disbelief. "Why would our owner want us to hurt each other?"

"So that he can collect the dirty green papers the other humans give him."

That's what this was all about? Those green papers he got after Mulch fought with me? Why would our owner care so much for them? Why did we have to hurt one another just to please humans? Mother never told me about having to fight other dogs just to help our owners. It all seemed so wrong.

When we arrived back at the barn, Fin was waiting outside the front door. Our owner patted the little dog's head as he put my cage down. Then when his phone rang, he walked off as he spoke to it. I never did understand why humans carried those things around all the time. All they ever do was talk to it.

Anyway, Fin walked up to me with a mocking grin. "Aww, first day on the job was rough?"

I shook my head. "It was horrible. I was forced to fight Mulch in a ring while other humans cheered."

"Well, get used to it."

I gave him an uneasy stare. "You mean I'll have to fight again?"

"What do you think our owner does when he takes the other Pits out of their kennels? He takes them to fights to battle other dogs."

My entire body tensed. "Why…? Why would he do that? Doesn't he know that we get hurt in those fights?"

Fin huffed. "You don't get it, do you? Pit Bulls like you are mere working dogs. Your only job is to entertain humans by fighting each other to get our owner more green papers. Whereas I'm a lap dog. So my only job is to sit on his lap all day while he gives me cuddles." He walked closer to me. "I mean, you want to be a good dog, right?"

I nodded. "More than anything."

"And being a good dog means pleasing our owner, right?"

"Of course."

"Well, getting him those green papers is what pleases him the most. And the only way to get him those papers is for you to fight other dogs. So, if you want to be a good dog, you'll have to shake off your insecurities and fight."

My whole body felt numb. I would have to fight my friends just to please my owner? I didn't think my heart was into it. It was painful enough to get beaten up by Mulch. Could I handle doing that to other dogs, let alone my friends? Was entertaining humans with fighting to get my owner more green papers really worth being a good dog? Mother said nothing about having to fight other dogs just to be a good dog. Then again, she did say that a dog's responsibility was towards its owner. But did that mean obeying him even when it feels wrong?

"I know that those green papers make our owner happy" I told Fin. "It's just that… I don't see how fighting my friends helps to protect, clean, exercise or love our owner. I mean, that's what good dogs are supposed to do, right?"

The little dog grunted. "We dogs also pay our respects to the humans who adopt us. Like how I owe him after he chose me out of a pile of puppies from a Pet Shop five years ago. I mean, I would have been taken to a nasty shelter if it hadn't been for him."

I sighed. "You know, Fin. Shelters aren't as bad as you think." In fact, both shelters I'd been in were a lot nicer than the barn our owner kept us in.

"The point is, you and every other Pit here owe him for choosing to take you. Even when so many other humans don't like Pit Bulls."

My head jerked upwards. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Fin wagged his tail in my face. "Why do you think Pit Bulls are used in fights? Dogs like you are big and strong. You're able to take a few hits without backing down. It's what gives you a fierce reputation."

"Well, all dogs protect their owners. We're no different from any other dog, including you!"

"Then how come you don't see our owner making me fight other dogs? Because, as I'd told you before, I'm a lap dog. Humans love me. Whereas most fear big scary dogs like you. That's why you're used in fights. Since that's the only use for you."

Offended by his teasing, I growled. "Hey, that's not true! Just because our owner makes me and the other Pit Bulls fight doesn't mean it's the only use for us. I didn't have to do fights just to please my other owners. They loved me just for being me."

"If they loved you so much, then why did they get rid of you?"

I pulled my front paws closer to my stomach. "I… I couldn't protect my first family's little girl or my second owners when the female's stomach extended."

Fin smirked at me. "Are you sure that it wasn't you they were protecting themselves from?"

I didn't know how to answer. This was the first time I'd been told that humans were fearful of dogs like me. I never even heard of humans being scared of dogs. Was that even possible? Sure, we dogs protected our owners from bad humans. But did that make humans afraid of us? Thinking back to those moments right before my previous owners surrendered me, there were scenes I hadn't thought about before. Like when that cleaned woman pointed me out to my first owners the day before my male owner brought me to the shelter. Or the times I scared intruders away with my barking, which made my second owners worried. Had they'd all thought I was vicious? Did they believed that I would hurt them? How? Why? I would never turn on my families. Never! Hadn't they'd known that? Or had they all believed that I would just because of what I was? Was that the real reason they all got rid of me?

My current owner returned and took me back to my kennel. Once he locked my door, he carried Fin back out. "Well, back to my cuddles!" Fin laughed as he was carried away.

To the kennel on my left, Spike huffed. "Fin is such a bully." He gave me a joyful grin. "So, how was your first day at work, Lucy?"

Not wanting to talk about my awful day, I curled in a circle and whined.

Buttons gave me a sympathetic look. "Girl, we feel you there. I remember the first fight I was brought to."

"At least you didn't have to fight your own brother" Barley spoke up.

Wheels shook. "Yeah. I still have nightmares about it."

Barley nuzzled his smaller brother. "And I still feel guilty for knocking you out."

Spike still tried to lift my spirits. "If you want, Lucy, I can lick that nasty wound on the back of your neck. Looks hard for your to reach it."

As much as I'd wanted to just lay there and try to forget the fight, the wound on the back of my neck did still sting and I wasn't able to reach it. Maybe Spike could help to make it better. So, I sat up and leaned my backside against the side of Spike's kennel. I felt his tongue getting right to work with cleaning my wound. It quickly did its job of making it less irritating and bringing a soothing feel to my back neck. No wonder most humans enjoy when a dog kisses them.

"Whoever you fought against certainly did a number on you" Spike said as he licked me.

"Yeah" I told him. "Mulch managed to throw me against a wooden board."

"Mulch, hey? Never fought him, but I've heard he's mighty rough. Said it's because he's a lot bigger than most of us. I don't even think he's a Pit Bull. He says he's called a Dogo Argentino, whatever that is."

"If he's not a Pit Bull, then why is he used in fights?"

He paused his licking. "Our owner uses any dog who's good in fights. As long as it gets him green papers, it makes him happy."

I'd let out a heavy breath. "So, we have to keep fighting each other just to make him happy?"

"It's what dogs are for. We please our owners no matter what."

What Spike said is true you know. As I've said before, we dogs have a strong sense of loyalty towards our humans. That's why most of us would do anything if it means making them happy, including Pit Bulls like me. And to tell you the truth, Pit Bulls aren't really the most common dog used for dog fighting because we're bigger or stronger than any other dog. Lots of different types are dogs can match our strength, such as Akitas, Great Danes and Rottweilers like my friends Izzy and Champ (thankfully, they'd never been asked to fight). The thing that makes Pit Bulls good in dog fighting is our drive to make our owners happy. We don't even like fighting other dogs. But if it's what our owners want, we'll do it. It's the reason why Pit Bulls fought bulls in pits long ago. We would face an entire herd of mad cows if it meant pleasing our owners. You humans might see our dedications towards our owners as scary. But our loyalty cannot be matched. That was why I continued with the fights.

Every once in a while, my owner would take me as well as a few other dogs to a worn out place. There, I was brought into a ring to fight one of the other dogs. I tried not to harm my opponents too badly. Often times, I'd shove, pawed their face or pushed them. But the crowd of humans who gathered to watch us always demanded for more. It was when blood was spilled that really excited them. Sometimes, I was forced to fight one of my friends. Those were the hardest fights. We did our best to put on a good show by wrestling and pretending to bite each other. When it wasn't enough, the humans hit us with long whips. They did it so frequently that our hinds became scarred from them. So, we often ended up inflicting wounds on each other. Then we each helped to lick them clean when we got back to the kennels. That was why every time I came back from a fight, I was always dripping blood and was covered in wounds. The only good part about the fights was that my friends were always there to try to lift my spirts afterwards. Don't think I would have lasted long if it hadn't been for Spike, Barley, Buttons, Wheels or Charlie.

Overtime, I got to know some of the other dogs too. I meant a gray female who called herself Daisy. She and I fought each other quite a few times. She hated fighting just as much as I did. But she hated hurting the other dogs even more. That was why she often pretended to lose a fight against me. There was also Buck, a black and white dog who I fought against frequently. He was skinnier than most of us and his bones always showed through his skin. That was why defeating him was easy. Still, I took my time head butting him to make him look good in front of the humans. I didn't have to fight Mulch again for awhile. My friends, however, did. Spike had a deep wound on his rump from when he had to face the bigger dog. Buttons and Barley each had nasty scars on their faces from him. And Wheels had been too terrified to tell us what happened between him and the Dogo.

One day, Mulch and I were taken to the same place to fight. As we were driven to the fighting place, my whole body tensed knowing what was to come. "You alright, Lucy?" Mulch had asked from his cage.

"No, not really" I answered truthfully.

"You wish to speak your mind?"

"It's just… Our owner, he…" I struggled to speak at first. "He's making me fight my friends just to entertain his friends. I hate these fights. I hate them! And… I don't know what to do! My whole life I've wanted to be a good dog and have a family. But I hate fighting other dogs just to please our owner. Fin says that because we're Pit Bulls, everyone sees us as bad and dangerous dogs. I don't want to believe he's right. But every single home has given me up and I can't help but wonder if it has something to do with me being a Pit Bull. Does that mean that I'm a bad dog?" After releasing all that had been kept deep within me, I whined.

Mulch put his paw against the bars of his cage. "Oh, kid. You've been through so much. Far more than someone like you deserves. Believe it or not, I know just how you feel."

"You do?"

"I've only had one other human family in my lifetime. Back when I lived on a big farm surrounded by sheep, goats, cows, horses and fruit trees. My humans were an old man, an old woman and four little girls. I, along with several other Dogo Argentinos helped to ensure the other animals and the human children remained safe. And the humans cared for us like they did with their children. They loved me just as I loved them."

Intrigued by this story, I listened carefully. "What happened to your family?"

Mulch huffed. "One of the workers, a young fella took me to the train station. He gave my leash to an older man, who forced me into a crate. They took my collar off, locked the door behind me and threw me onto a moving train. I never saw my family ever again. When I was let out, I found myself near a train track with our current owner. He wrapped a chain around me and hit me with a stick until I walked into the back of his truck. He then brought me to the shed, where he put me in one of the kennels. Now, he makes me fight dogs like you just so he collects more green papers."

My jaw dropped hearing such a heartbreaking story. "Why would our owner take you away from such a nice family?"

"Perhaps he only cares for those green papers. Nothing else, including us."

I shook in disbelief. "But, he's our owner. He's supposed to care about us."

Mulch gave me a deep stare. "Did he seem to care when I was stolen from my home? Did he seem to care when those other humans yelled at us to draw blood from each other? Did he seem to care whenever we were forced to hurt each other just so he got those green papers?" When he put it that way, it did sound harsh.

Yet, I was in doubt. "But, we're still his dogs. So, we have to remain loyal to him, right?"

He then gave me the firmest look I'd ever seen in a dog. "Do you know why dogs are loyal to humans?"

I shook.

"Long ago, dogs didn't live with humans. We were once wild and free. We had no leashes holding us back, we hunted our own food, and could roam wherever we'd please. Then, humans came onto our lands. While most drove us out of our territories with their weapons and fire, there were some that wished to make peace with us. They offered us their food and shelter in exchange for our companionship. Some of those wild dogs turned against those humans' offerings and remained wild. Whereas others were compelled to allow humans to be a part of our lives. They let them share their food, they gave them warm beds to sleep on, those humans even helped to raise the pups. That was how dogs became humans best friends. Because humans proved to be a dog's best friend." He suddenly sighed. "Overtime, many humans have forgotten why our two species made peace. Most humans only care for themselves and use us for their own well-being. Those are the bad humans. Humans like our owner."

I gasped. Our owner was a bad human? I didn't want to believe it at first. But then again, it all made sense. That was why Sophie had been so uncomfortable about him. She must have sensed that he was bad. And the way he treated me and my friends so poorly. If that didn't make him a bad human, nothing would.

Still, there was something else that crossed my mind. "But, Fin said that dogs like us are only good for fights."

Mulch snorted. "That tiny dog wouldn't know a duck from a pigeon! My family loved me for who I was. They didn't care how big I was. And the other dogs who lived on that farm were like me, and my humans didn't care about their massive sizes. Yes, some humans judge based on looks alone. So what? Shouldn't matter to me or you. What should matter is knowing that there are humans who don't care for looks. They care about the dog themself. Those are the good humans. The ones who don't make you fight just to make them happy."

I gave him a confused stare. "If you believe all that, then why do you keep fighting?"

He looked away, as if lost in his own thoughts. "Good question."

Shortly after, we arrived at our destination. It was a rundown barn where we were often taken for fights. When the truck had stopped, another male human came and lifted Mulch's cage. Our owner lifted mine. As they carried us into the barn, my owner sounded worried while he spoke to the other human. "Did you hear about the possibility of a lockdown? This whole Covid-19 thing has gotten people going crazy."

The other man shrugged. "At least fewer suspicious animal lovers are bugging us." Both laughed loudly.

They quickly got to work with taking us out of our cages and tossing us into the ring. It was nothing they hadn't done to us before. As usual, there were lots of other humans surrounding us yelling for the fight to start. And as always, I faced my opponent as they faced up to me. Once the ring sounded, I readied for Mulch's impact. But this time, he didn't strike.

He didn't snap, bite, snarl, lung, push, or paw swipe me. He didn't even give me a single growl. No, all he did was stare at me while the humans gave him angry shouts.

Sitting still in the ring, Mulch barked at the shouting humans. "My name is Mulch and I will be used no more!" I'd almost couldn't believe it. Mulch, the fiercest dog I had ever faced, the dog who inflicted ever lasting wounds on me and my friends, the greatest fighter out of all of us was refusing to fight.

Angered and frustrated, our owner came into the ring and up to Mulch. "What are you doing, moron? Do what you're good at. Fight!" He then smacked him on the behind.

That made Mulch growl. "You want to see me fight? Fine, you asked for it!" Without warning, his jaws latched onto our owner's arm. Blood oozed from our owner's arm as he tried to pull back while he screamed in pain. Sinking his teeth deeper into our owner's arm, Mulch refused to let go. He shook our owner side to side with all his might.

Frozen in shock at what I was witnessing, I wasn't sure what to do. Should I help Mulch? Should I try to stop him? A part of me wanted to sit and watch Mulch rip our owner apart. But my heart told me that what Mulch was doing was wrong, no matter how much our owner deserved it.

But in the end, I didn't get to choose to do anything. For someone grabbed me and put me back in my cage. As they took me out of the barn, the last thing I saw was someone running towards the ring with a whip.

Sometime later, my owner came outside with his arm wrapped in a white sheet. Mulch was carried by another man. The poor dog was covered in deep bloody scratches and had something covering his muzzle. He was thrown into his cage as we were lifted into the back of the truck.

"You sure you want to rid that dog?" The one man asked my owner. "He's a great fighter. You could sell him for a decent price."

"No!" My owner yelled. "After what he just did, best to put him down now before he gets any ideas of doing it again. Besides, after taking that many hits, he won't make it for another hour anyway."

As we drove off, I knelt down to comfort Mulch. "Hey, you okay?"

He weakly lifted his head up. "Lucy… Listen closely… This man… He's going to take me to The Lake for what I've done…"

The Lake? I knew that a lake was a large body of water. But I've never heard of The Lake before. "What's so bad about some lake?"

"The Lake… Is a place where this man takes dogs… But they don't come back…"

My eyes widen. Dogs who go to The Lake never come back? How was that possible? Why don't they come back? "What do you mean? Why does our owner take dogs there? How come no dogs ever come back from there?"

He coughed up blood. "Listen Lucy! It's too late for me… But not for you… If you're ever taken to The Lake… Run! Don't let him take you near the water… Don't let him confine you to a cage… Just run… Run and don't look back…" More blood came from out of his mouth. "Just… Keep… Running…" His eyes closed and he went very still.

"Mulch? Mulch!" My cries went unanswered. His scent quickly faded away, replaced with the same scent I'd smelled on that one bird that didn't move. My body felt uneasy once I'd realized in that moment that the scent I had smelled on that bird before was called death. What I was now smelling all over Mulch.

I'd almost lost my balance. Never before had I seen anyone die right before my eyes. I almost couldn't believe it. Mulch had been the strongest dog I'd ever known. Only to have been beaten to death for refusing to fight. Had this been my fault? Did questioning him why he fought if he didn't like fights given him the idea to not fight at all? Oh, Mulch, I'm so sorry! He didn't deserve to die like that. He should have passed peacefully surrounded by those who loved him. Our owner shouldn't have allowed this to happen.

No! This man who kept us in cages. Who made us fight each other just so he could get his dirty hands on some green papers. Who allowed Mulch to be beaten to death without caring at all. This man wasn't our owner. He was a bad man. A bad man who stole Mulch from his real family and used me and my friends for his own gain. Was this how my friends and I were going to have to go through for the rest of our lives? To fight till we could fight no longer only to die slow and painfully as Mulch had? Thinking of Spike, Charlie, Barley, Buttons, and Wheels all being beaten to death was too much to bear.

Even though I felt so weak in grief watching Mulch die, something else inside of me gave me strength. I wasn't going to allowed anymore of my friends die the way Mulch had. None of the other dogs were going to die as Mulch had. I was determined to not let this bad man get away with what he'd done. I didn't know how, but I was going to stop him no matter what.

Writing Mulch's final scene was probably the hardest thing I have ever written. I apologize if it made you cry as it did to me :_(

I included cock-fighting in it because it's just as bad as dog fighting, only it is not discussed as often as dog fighting. Everyone needs to be aware that every year, many poor roosters are forced to fight one another just for entertainment. We need to put an end to both of these acts of animal cruelty!

P.S. I cannot express enough of how animals like Pit Bulls are being negatively affected by untrue myths about them. Mostly from the media. There are so many movies, books, TV shows, and news reports that often portray certain animals as dangerous. I've seen too many fiction stories that show coyotes, sharks, wolves, snakes, owls, and so many other creatures as the villains. I know that some of you might not be concerned since most of these are just works of fiction. But believe me when I say that stories can be powerful and the impact they have on audiences can reflect their actions in real life. Take Pit Bulls for example. Sure, they were originally bred to fight bulls in pits long ago (thankfully, that cruel act has been banned). But they were also called Nanny Dogs because they were really good with children, a quality that they still have today in fact. The most famous Pit Bull of all time, Sergeant Stubby was even a World War I hero and saved countless lives. However, the public's opinion towards Pit Bulls changed when a magazine was released in the early 2000s showing a Pit Bull baring its teeth with the title above saying "Beware of This Dog." And overnight, the Pit Bull became famous for being an aggressive and dangerous dog. That's how they became the most common dog used in dog fights and why they've been banned in several cities, countries, airlines, etc. That was why I was so touched when I watched the NCIS episodes showcasing Lucy, a Pit Bull who was so sweet and caring despite all the abuse she'd been through. Shows like that give people a new perspective on a dog that has been deemed as dangerous just by what breed it is. Characters such as Lucy show that not all Pit Bulls are aggressive. Honestly, not everyone should own a Pit Bull. They're still strong dogs that need an owner who can provide them with plenty of care, attention, and affection. Still, we mustn't label all dogs who look like Pit Bulls as dangerous just because of what they look like. The same goes to any animal that has been wrongfully portrayed as dangerous. Any creature, whether it's a Pit Bull or even a Dachshund, is capable of biting someone if they feel threaten or they're protecting someone they love. But that doesn't make every animal of that breed/ species as aggressive. So, the next time you see a story about an animal that's being portrayed as a villain, please remember that not all animals of the same species is mean or dangerous. What I'm really trying to say is "don't judge a book by it's cover." Or in this case, "don't judge a dog by their breed."