Scrappy

I hissed angrily at the dog in front of me. She had a pink collar with a small golden tag on it with her name: Beatrice. She was a tiny puppy, covered in fluffy white fur. She had floppy ears and pleading eyes. She had a splinter in her front paw.

She yipped in fear and backed away from me. She didn’t even know what was wrong. It doesn’t matter. I pounced on the raw fish that had fallen out of the fisher’s bucket when he was coming home and Beatrice jumped. She watched hungrily as I devoured the flopping, suffocating fish.

I glared at her and she slowly backed up, still watching me. I finished the last of the fish and shot her one last look before swinging my tail and walking away.

Beatrice

I watched the black cat as he walked away. His fur was matted, his left ear was torn, and the fish’s blood was splattered all over the pavement. I stared at it. I had never seen blood before except for when my human pricked her finger when sewing. I had lost my human somewhere. It had been a day since she went missing. Now, I was weak and shaking with hunger. Nothing seemed edible. I just wanted my treats!

I walked out of the small alley and whimpered, looking up at strangers. They never noticed.

I was now a stray dog.