Loyal Eyes

“Out! GET OUT!” 

Fang whimpered as a beefy fist pounded the seat just above his head. Flesh smacked against leather with a sound like a thunderclap. Fang flattened his ears tight to his skull and backed away. His back paws slipped off the edge of the car seat. He wrenched his leg as he plummeted out of the vehicle. He landed like roadkill with a crack on the pavement of the highway. His vision blurred, and his nose welled up with something warm and sticky. Red liquid dribbled down his muzzle and tickled his chin.

What did I do! Fang yowled out a sob of pure anguish as tires spun before his eyes. The wheels slashed through puddles like whirling blades. A wave of water drowsed Fang from head to tail. It soaked through his fur and chilled him down to the skin. Fang staggered to his paws. With his tail tucked between his legs, he gazed after the tan pickup. The truck screamed down the country road until it crested over a hill and vanished from sight.

What did I do wrong? Fang’s body trembled. He held his throbbing back leg in the air and shifted his weight continually, as he could not quite ease the burning pain. Icy droplets wound tracks through his cheeks like teardrops on a human’s sorrowful face. 

Fang licked his muzzle, tasting blood. He nervously glanced up at the gray clouds looming overhead. The ominous sky foreshadowed an impending downpour. 

Fang’s attention turned back to the road—a road adorned with trees and blooming flowers on both sides—and he took a limp in the direction that the pickup had vanished. 

Was it because I couldn’t chase away that pesky squirrel who would sit outside the window and chatter? I tried. I barked until my throat was raw. Was it because I chewed on his shoes? I was only a puppy then. Was it because I wasn’t good? Fang whined. An agonizing sorrow gripped his chest, mercilessly suffocating him. Why did you leave me here, Master? 

Fang heard a rumbling behind him. His ears pricked. The pavement vibrated under his paws. He swiveled his head. 

Two beams of light washed over him like twin bolts of lightning. A horn blared so sharply that Fang’s ears crackled from the sound. He shook his head and stumbled back. 

A slick, black car roared past inches from his face. The wind pressing his fur flat against his skin. 

Fang swallowed. His body shook as the car flew away down the road and vanished over the hill.

Just as Master’s pickup had done. 

I want to go home. Fang thought. He blinked raindrops from his eyes. I don’t care if he’s mean sometimes. He’s my master. He’s my family. 

Fang shook himself. The idea of making his own way home to Master’s cabin started off as a seed of hope in his mind. The longer he pondered it, that glimmer transformed into vast fields of exhilaration and unwavering conviction. 

Home was where he was needed. His loyalty was with his master. No matter what. 

He had to get home. 

With determination burning like an unquenchable fire in his heart, Fang set off at an uneven trot down the side of the road to find the tan pickup.

To find his master. 

 ***

Fang trekked along the roadside until his legs ached and his stomach gurgled painfully. In search of something to quell his grievous hunger, Fang strayed from his path. He wandered through the thick brush of the wilderness until he came to a trailer park. 

Fang let his sniffer do the work of hunting down something edible. He followed his nose to the edge of a gravel roadway. Positioned there, he spotted one of those plastic bins that humans typically discard unwanted food into. With a swift leap, Fang used his front paws to topple the bin, resulting in a cacophony of splattering noises. The tantalizing aroma of meat wafted through the air, causing drool to cascade from Fang's mouth. He eagerly sank his teeth into aged rib bones and devoured the remnants with great enthusiasm.

The persistent rain and the curtains of murky clouds cleared away as the sun began to set in the sky.

Fang, his muzzle dripping greasy steak juice, gazed up at the waning sun and pondered.

Did he have what it took to walk even a few paw steps further?

In body, no. But in spirit, his loyalty reigned supreme.

Fang gave his throbbing back leg a few gentle licks. It was swollen, and it pained him more than he cared to acknowledge.

Fang hobbled from the trailer park. He scrambled over fallen trees and pushed his way through sharp thorns until he was back on the main roadside. 

The further he walked, the more cars passed him. The traffic grew in number as he traveled.

Fang took no notice of the human contraptions. 

He didn’t even look at the ones that slowed as they passed him. 

His back leg became alive with pain. It burned like the heat of the sun was searing it from the inside out.

It got so bad that Fang’s vision blurred and his jowls dripped froth. 

The sun rose and set... rose and set... again and again. Fang slept in ditches on the shoulder of the highway that reeked of muck. His coat became matted, and the smell that wafted off his own flesh made him ill. His leg had the odor of a carcass. A carcass that had been sitting out in the sun for days, and was rotting and infested with maggots.

One sunrise, Fang could no longer keep walking. His legs trembled, and he collapsed to the ground outside of a gas station. 

“Mommy! Look at the puppy!”

Fang’s eyes slid up. A little girl was pointing at him, as she and her mother walked up to the building’s doors.

“Ugh! Oh, my Lord! It’s absolutely foul!” The mother human squealed. She snatched her pup’s hand and dragged her briskly towards the doors and away from Fang.

No. No, don’t go! Fang whimpered softly. He tried to lift his head, which weighed more than he had the strength to carry. 

I need... Fang’s head dropped with a slap to the asphalt as the girl vanished into the building with her mother. I need someone. I need help. Why? Oh, why? Fang pressed his body to the pavement. I was loyal. I was so loyal to him; why did he leave me on the road to die? Why do they, all these humans, pass by without stopping to help—or just to give me a pat on the head?

Was I not loyal enough? Not a good dog?

Suddenly, Fang’s muzzle crinkled, and his paws curled. A cold realization momentarily numbed the pain that had consumed his thoughts. A hot, bitter rage flooded his gentle heart.

No. The word echoed from the depths of his soul. He watched people come and go, stopping only long enough to jeer at him and plug their noses in disgust. No. I wasn’t bad. They’re bad. Humans have no loyalty. They have the eyes of weasels—shifty and scheming. My loyalty could never have been enough for a creature that has no loyalty in his own soul to give. 

Fang's heart had turned to stone, and his thoughts were clouded with disdain. He jolted to attention at a faint clicking noise. His eyes flashing towards the sound. 

A man was approaching him, boots clacking against the asphalt. The man wore black fur, with red patches stitched into the pelt. His hair was slicked back with smelly grease, his face was smeared with dirt, and his eyes were narrowed.

He held a long, metal pole. With a silver loop at the end of it. 

Fang’s hackles rose. With a growl, the first he’d emitted since his puphood, he struggled to stand on his quivering limbs. The man paused in his advance as Fang faced him, teeth bared.

“Easy.” The man purred. His voice was sticky sweet. He took a step closer. Fang snapped at the air.

He’d never dared to face down a man before. The one time he had been foolish enough to yap at Master as a puppy, he’d been kicked in the ribs by a steel-toed boot. 

No more. Fang roared so thunderously that the man jumped a good few feet in the air. No more men. No more pain. No more betrayal. No more loneliness.

Fang was done.

He’d been loyal, but not anymore.

His loyalty he now shoved deep down inside himself, where it would stay until the day he found someone worthy of it.

That was how loyalty should work.

It shouldn’t be master and dog, Fang made a choice that broke the chains of tradition. It should be two friends. A dog with a heart full of loyalty, and a man with eyes that reflected the same.

“Easy, now. Easy." The greasy-haired weasel tried to slip the loop over Fang’s head. Fang jumped at him. He looked as though he were ready to tear the man’s throat out.

The greaseball yowled and fell back, landing with a splat on his butt. 

Fang galloped past him and limped away from the gas station. 

 ***

Fang ran until he could run no further. He sprinted into the late hours of the night.

It hurts! Fang slunk across a parking lot. The wind whipped at his side and flung clouds of dust into his tender eyes. White streaks from the full moon above illuminated the black asphalt below, creating a mesmerizing effect as it seemed to pulse and sway like ripples on a lake. 

Fang kept his head low, pushing against the harsh air currents. His keen eyes caught sight of a structure. It was a building, and it had a wooden porch extending proudly from its front.

Fang lopped up to the porch. Feeling lower than a rat, he dropped to his belly and crawled under the wooden structure.

Fang nestled against a support beam. The cool, moist air under the porch gave him chills. He licked at the air, trying to quell his undeniable thirst. 

Fang fell asleep. His belly pressed to the mud, like a snake’s.

***

“Woah. Hey, there!”

Fang jolted awake. His ears swiveled toward the noise that had broken his uneasy rest. There was a man peering under the porch. The man wore a bemused grin.

Fang rose as far as he could to his paws. His head pressed uncomfortably against the bottom of the porch. Fang growled. He clenched his teeth and squinted his eyes at the unwelcome guest.

Don’t. He warned the man. Don’t come close. Leave me alone. 

“Easy there.” The man soothed, though he wearily pulled his head back some, out of reach of Fang’s gleaming teeth. “I saw you when I was coming up here to open the bar up, pup. You look mighty hungry. What do you say we get you something to eat?”

Leave. Fang snarled as loudly as his throat would allow him to. Me. Alone. 

“Easy. Easy.” The man kneeled in the mud. He gave a hefty sigh. 

“I take it you won’t follow me up to the bar, huh?” 

I’m gonna bite you. Fang opened his jaws slightly, his teeth popping open with a click, resembling a rifle being prepared to fire.

The man got up and left. Fang didn’t move. He stared wearily at the spot where the human had been.

The man didn’t seem cruel.

But he didn’t have loyal eyes.

He had kind eyes. However, they were full of uncertainty. Like he himself didn’t know what he was doing with his life or who he was living for.

The man returned. Fang’s nose twitched. Something smelled good—really good!

The man pushed a rusting bucket towards him. A bucket filled to the brim with leftover food.

“It’s grilled cheese, chicken, Mac and Cheese— all the better things of life. We had some leftovers in the fridge. They’re all yours, big boy.” Fang eyed him suspiciously. “Or girl!”

Fang, too hungry to resist, gulped down the food. He never stopped eyeing the man distrustfully. 

“We usually keep root beer cans out on the counter in that bucket there.” The man spoke, while Fang continued to gorge himself. “‘It’s our bucket of beer.’ Hey, we gotta call you something, big buddy. How about Bucket of Beer? B.O.B? You like that?” 

Fang didn’t lift his head. Yet somehow he knew that Fang, his master, and all that had made up his past life were gone.

He had a new name.

And a new heart. 

***

Fang, or BOB, never left the building that the humans called a bar. He stayed where there was food. Eventually, he even grew comfortable enough to limp inside the bar to eat and drink. His leg healed over time, thanks to funny-tasting treats that the young man who’d found him gave him, though it always seemed to ache, no matter which way he laid on it or how much he licked at it. 

One day, while he was lying on the porch, long after BOB had come to live at the bar, a truck pulled into the parking lot. A man stumbled out of that truck and began to make his way towards the building. 

BOB let his eyes follow the man’s movements, sluggish and rigid, for a good moment. He sighed and turned his attention back to the porch roof. His eyes dull and lifeless.

Pain.

Betrayal.

Alone.

BOB shivered. His back leg throbbed in phantom pain. Men had no loyalty. They were cruel. They were stone-hearted and merciless.

Pain.

Betrayal.

Alone.

BOB pulled his forepaws deeper under his chest. His muzzle quivering. His old master’s roaring, thunderous barks pounded in his ears with enough force to hurt. 

Footsteps came closer to the porch. The soft thud of heavy boots trekking over stone. 

Pain—

Kicks, slaps, sticks cracking over his tender flesh and sinking down to skim his bones. 

Betrayal—

Grabbed, shoved, engine roaring, thrown into a cold, wet, isolated street.

Alone. 

So alone—

Even in the crowded human hut with its foul-smelling drinks and loud, boisterous men, BOB was alone. The kind people who fed him were a source of nutrition and refreshing drink, but they were not a source of love. The bar was not a home; it was simply a shelter. 

In every person that walked in and out of the bar, BOB searched for what he was looking for. 

For loyalty.

But he never found the loyal eyes he was looking for. 

In his heart, he’d begun to wonder if there was even such a thing as a loyal man. Perhaps loyalty was a dog emotion. A concept beyond the grasp of human minds, which were fogged up by selfishness and malevolent tendencies. 

Creak! 

BOB’s eyes flashed to the side of him as the man from the truck stepped up onto the porch. The man was looking at him. There was something different in his gaze-- a concoction of sorrow, frustration, and yet, unmistakably, loyalty. In that moment, BOB saw the reflection of his own essence mirrored back at him.

This man had loyal eyes. 

BOB could hardly believe his eyes. As the man went into the building, BOB gazed after him.

Here was what he’d been searching for all this time. The man practically reeked of something new. Something special that BOB had yet to find in another.

He wasn’t going to let the man slip away from him. 

I’m going home, BOB decided. His tail gave a tired wag. I’m going home at last. 

BOB was a loyal dog. Once he gave his devotion to someone, they never fully lost it.

Only this time, BOB had only one trade-off for his loyalty.

He wanted to receive at least a portion of it back.