Life of a pet.


>Be Jessie.
>Border Collie anthro.
>Black with white socks, chest, belly and a cute little line on your face.
>It’s cold in the shop.
>You’re in one of the holding units along one wall of the pet shop.
>There are ten or twelve all with different kinds of anthros.
>Lots of people come by.
>Some are nice and coo at you while you lounge or do extra stuff like rolling around.
>Some are mean and come by only to bang on the glass so much that your ears hurt.
>Day after day you spend in this five-by-five cell, waiting for adoption.
>Every now and again someone would come in and have a chat with you or look into adoption but say no or pull away at the last moment.
>Once, someone actually signed but called back a few hours later and said that they couldn’t take you.
>That one hurt.
>Oh well.
>Time heals and before long, you were trying your best, once again, to be cute and snuggly for your prospective owners.
>It’s later in the evening.
>Just about closing.
>You’re already curled up in the doggie bed in the corner.
>Your ears prick up as you hear the door open.
>You don’t even bother looking up anymore.


>No one will adopt you.
>Why even try?
>You hear one of the workers talking while walking down the line of cells.
>Then you hear another voice.
>Nope.
>Don’t care.
>Sleep is seconds away.
>You hear them talking about the pair of tabby sisters in the unit next to yours.
>”No.” The new guy says. “I’m not looking for two. I only have room for one pet.”
>Jeff, the worker talking to the new man, replied. “Well, Mr.Mous, what sort of companion are you looking for?”
>”A canine. One that likes to walk but also enjoys cuddling and other manly things.”
>”I see.” They walk right past your window. “Will this be an intimate partner or simply a companion?”
>Anon pauses for a moment. “I’m not sure. Let’s say that I’ll keep my options open for now.”
>They walk right past you.
>Yep…
>”Hmmm. Are you fond of those that are having… Trouble getting adopted?”
>”Sure. Show me.”
>They keep walking down the line of cages.
>You let their talking slowly fade into the background.

>You drift gently down lower and lower, letting you brain melt into a dream when you hear them again.
>”What about this one?’
>They're outside the glass, staring in at you.
>”What about this one?” the man asks.
>”Oh no, not her.” The salesman replies. “She’s not… A fan favorite, if you get my meaning.”
>”Hmm.”
>He taps on the glass, once… Twice.
>You shift around and look out the window.
>He’s handsome.
>Just about six feet, white with a little bit of tan.
>Blond-brown hair with blue-grey eyes.
>You sit up a little further, more and more interested with each passing second.
>His and your eyes connect.
>He smiles warmly.
>Your spine jumps.
>He’s the one.
>Before the words exit his mouth, you know that it’s going to be true.
>”I’ll take her.”
>You smile.
>Somehow, you know that he means it.
>You’re going home…