Chapter 5

                                        

                                              
Published: 3/27/25
Harry woke up in a cage. A not terribly complex lock was keeping him trapped. However, he was still light-headed. He could feel the residual pain in his body through the haze of drugs. The bastards put the cone of shame on him, and he could feel the cast on his left leg and shoulder, where the car hit him.
A car.... a fucking car got him. Well, he wasn't dead. Despite the pain and small space, Harry managed to get his rear paws under the cone's lip around his neck, and then he used his raw power to force it up and off his head. He whined from the pain, but it was off. Harry inspected his injury. Front leg was in bad shape, though, and some ribs weren't happy. Luckily, the humans didn't kill him. He had to see what they'd do, before he would try to escape. He didn't know how bad he was.
It took a few hours, but a blue scrub guy came into the room. "Oh, you're up! And you got your cone off."
Damn right, human. No cone of shame for me! Harry thought.
"You need that on!" he said, cautiously opening the cage door.
Growling or snapping at humans was a big No-No, he knew. Dangerous dogs get put down. Harry wagged his tail and licked the guy's hand. Instead of biting him, he rolled away, batting away attempts with his good paw. After ten minutes, the scrub guy gave up.
"Stubborn bastard! Don't chew it off!" he ordered and walked out.
When the orderly returned, he dumped dry dog food in his bowl. Harry batted it out onto the floor, much to the scrub guy's annoyance. The vet came by later, pulled him out carefully, and thoroughly checked his injuries. 
"He'll live. Very calm... I guess he's not that feral one from the Manchester area."
Harry felt some pride in the fact that he was a "wanted" dog with posters. 
"Easy, boy," the vet said and gently pressed his tender parts. He whined but let it happen. "Teeth don't look good. He hasn't been to a vet. Full shots, and we better clean these."
Harry let them do it. He didn't want to be put down as a mad dog. He wondered if he'd be alright medically handling animal drugs. He found that he still didn't care.
The vet tutted as he picked at Harry's teeth, removing grime and old bits of food. "This is the most mild-mannered dog I've ever had. Is he drugged?"
"Not yet. Not since surgery," the orderly replied. 
Harry whined gently as the pain was getting up there. He wanted some painkillers. The vet ordered, obtained and dosed Harry again with some pain relievers.
The vet was nearly done when a different scrub girl came in. The vet asked her, "Did you find his owner?"
"No chip. No known owner or missing dog report. The guy that hit him said he'd take him. Dray something," she said.
"Ok, do more checks for reports."  
"I've checked many stations. There are plenty of reports of a wandering Belgian Malonias that's been roaming the country. This might be him. He has no reports of attacking humans, just stealing food, tearing up garbage, evading capture, and getting into dog fights. This one has quite a few scars and old injuries." 
"Huh... but no owner? Just reports of a dangerous stray?" the vet asked as he checked his paws and nails.
"Yep."
"This Dray guy can take him. Owner has got to come forward soon if they want him, but I see no signs of ownership, so he's got a new owner, now," the vet decreed as he trimmed his nails.