When it Rains :: It Pours
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When it Rains
It Pours
Prologue
Primrose Kennels was always a top of the line dog kennel, noteworthy in their area for their quality German Shepherd Dogs and Border Collies. They bred workers. Dogs who desire to please, wanted a task, and had the intelligence and ability to accomplish anything. Their dogs were exceptional in Agility, and stole the Show Ring.
Until Primrose Kennels went under. In a time of crashing economy, dogs were not made to sell. It becomes hard enough to care for yourself, let-alone a dog or two, and even beloved pets are cast aside - and showing becomes a thing for only the rich. Without proper funds to support a kennel and dozens of dogs, Primrose Kennel couldn't stay afloat.
When the Kennel is too far in debt to remain, the SPCA is called in, and the dogs are led away one-by-one in a last-ditch effort to find them homes, before fate's cruelty wins out. But what will happen when two of the dogs escape?
The story of Triton, a devoted and confident German Shepherd, and Solitaire, a energetic and headstrong Border Collie unfolds. There escape is a victory - but how long can victory remain sweet when they face a world of new things, surviving only by sheer intelligence and reliance on one another?
With no home to return to, they can only look ahead to a horizon of opportunities, addled with risks they can hardly fathom.
Because, when it rains, it pours.
It Pours
Prologue
Primrose Kennels was always a top of the line dog kennel, noteworthy in their area for their quality German Shepherd Dogs and Border Collies. They bred workers. Dogs who desire to please, wanted a task, and had the intelligence and ability to accomplish anything. Their dogs were exceptional in Agility, and stole the Show Ring.
Until Primrose Kennels went under. In a time of crashing economy, dogs were not made to sell. It becomes hard enough to care for yourself, let-alone a dog or two, and even beloved pets are cast aside - and showing becomes a thing for only the rich. Without proper funds to support a kennel and dozens of dogs, Primrose Kennel couldn't stay afloat.
When the Kennel is too far in debt to remain, the SPCA is called in, and the dogs are led away one-by-one in a last-ditch effort to find them homes, before fate's cruelty wins out. But what will happen when two of the dogs escape?
The story of Triton, a devoted and confident German Shepherd, and Solitaire, a energetic and headstrong Border Collie unfolds. There escape is a victory - but how long can victory remain sweet when they face a world of new things, surviving only by sheer intelligence and reliance on one another?
With no home to return to, they can only look ahead to a horizon of opportunities, addled with risks they can hardly fathom.
Because, when it rains, it pours.
Delillah (#13357)
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05-1-2011 at 12:58 AM
When it Rains<br /> <i>It Pours</i><br /> <br /> <b>Chapter One</b><br /> <i>Arf! Arf! Arf!</i> The German Shepherd leaped at his chain, deep bark rumbling from his chest as he threw himself against the lead that tethered him to a doghouse, raging a war against the restraint. One he seemed unaccustomed to. Peering over her glasses, a woman watched the dog sorrowfully through the window, reclining in the chair of her desk. The room and desk were bare, only a desktop computer and house phone sitting on the desk, and a printer located on a small table across the room, spewing out papers rapidly. Sheet after sheet, each documenting the vital information of every dog that barked and lounged in the kennels. It recorded the names, ages, birthdates - when the dog had lasted been vetted, if and when it had been altered, the number it was microchipped with, sires and dams. Each dog's data appeared on the desktop briefly, remaining until printed, until it went on to the next. A process that would repeat itself atleast twenty times, giving information of dogs ranging from puppies to seniors.<br /> <br /> <i>Arrrf! Arrrr..arf!</i> A sad smile was given to the Shepherd through the window, though he paid no mind, before she let her eyes wander to the kennel. The building was shaped like an 'L', a structure that ensured she could see into every kennel from her office, observing the dogs in the outdoor portion from the time the doorways opened until darkness fell and they were safely locked down in their cozy homes. The woman watched, laughing affectionately as she watched a young Border Collie as it paced around the decently sized kennel, leaping occasionally to bounce off the fencing and loop around more quickly. It would pause, give a few yaps, then set off once more. The dogs were anxious. She was, too. Looking off another way, she found herself looking at the exercise pastures. Five expansions of land they had fenced in with high, secure fence, each with a fairly sized agility course set up and plenty of empty space for running.<br /> <br /> It was there that they took each dog individually, or sometimes in small groups, depending which dogs, to allow them ample time to run and exert energy, or trained them in agility. Each dog had different care requirements - it was a diverse pack. The printed documents also included a time estimate of how long each dog required of exercise, accompanied by what kind they did best with, along with dietary and health information, grooming, behavior - it was everything necessary to ensure the dogs were well-attended, even if their usual caretakers were not present. All it required, on the average day, was a quick search of the dog's ID on one of the computers to pull up the data. It was like a dream for her, and she felt the dogs were contented with their lives, also - while it was a breeding kennel, they had always showed too - the dogs were neither overworked or overbred.<br /> <br /> Now her dream was crumbling fast.<br /> <br /> <i>Thum-thum-thump.</i> A knock came on her office door.<br /> <br /> "Come in."<br /> <br /> The door opened, and she turned her chair to greet the arrival. Her assistant - a pudgy older woman, who had a passion for dogs and seemed a canine encyclopedia of information. She was like a secretary, an aid, and a friend - the kind of person who did whatever task was needed and offered support in every situation. At her side, a man she didn't know to look at, but was able to match an identity to, nontheless.<br /> <br /> "Ms.Primrose, this is Mr. Evans is here - he's with the SPCA."<br /> <br /> "Yes, thank you, Mary. - I believe we spoke on the phone, Mr. Evans? I'll take you to the dogs - this is hard for me, you understand? I'd rather take as little involvement as possible - I already said goodbye to them this morning."<br /> <br /> "Ah, I understand, ma'am. It's quite ashame, you have a very nice establishment. Perhaps in better times?"<br /> <br /> A nod was given by the woman, a weak smile being offered. The printer beeped, the last sheet of paper dropping to the stack beneath, and the machine going into a sleep mode automaticly. Hurriedly, Ms. Primrose turned, collecting the orderly documents.<br /> <br /> "I printed the information for each dog; each has a picture. Most the documents can be matched to the dog easily, but if not, all of them are microchipped and the paperwork had the microchip's number."<br /> <br /> "Thank you. You said none of them are aggressive, correct?"<br /> <br /> "Oh no - not at all. They are anxious, though. Even Ol'General is acting strange - but they really aren't aggressive on average."<br /> <br /> The man gave a nod, and Ms.Primrose motioned the way, exiting the room and leading outside, where they were met by a small group of SPCA volunteers. A look to the leads and poles, and the woman felt her heart breaking. Nontheless, she put on her strongest poker face and led the group to the kennel, entering into fenced off path that ran along the ends of the kennel pens. Within moments, they were at work, opening the pens and leashing the friendliest dogs, while they either dropped lead ropes or use the catch poles to collect the most skittish or unfriendly of the bunch. Ms.Primrose took a deep breath, choking back tears as she watched them lead each dog to the truck, crate them, and return for another. The trucks weren't equipped for more than a few dogs - and as one filled, it departed quickly to drop the dogs off and return.<br /> <br /> "Ma'am, we'll find them all good homes, alright?"<br /> <br /> She gave a nod, patting the head of the dog at her side - the oldest dog at the kennel. The only one she wouldn't give up. Her heart ached at giving up a number of them, but he'd been hers since he was born. He gave a whine, padded nervously around her, then flopped into a sit, eyeing the other dogs as they were guided away. <i>Rrrrrn.. arf!</i> Whining, he gave a bark, the old saddled Shepherd looking up at his master expectantly. One could see the questioning in his eyes, begging to know where his pack was going, and why his alpha did nothing to prevent the intruders. In his day, she had no doubt he'd have taken action, raced at the nearest intruder, and taken the person down as his police training dictated - but at his age, he obediently remained with her, merely pacing despite his freedom.<br /> <br /> Ms.Primrose's other favored Shepherd, however, could not be allowed such freedom. Her attention went to the youthful canine, barking furiously in his endless battle to escape the lead, darting towards any who came too near. He was a large, gorgeous dog, with an alpha personality. He was bold and dominant, but also highly intelligent. There was no doubt his pups had all grown up magnificant - as was expected from any direct relative of Ol'General. But, now Triton was furious - he wasn't an aggressive dog, but his temper was clearly flared, and as each dog passed, he first tried to attack their captor, then turned and darted the opposite way, barking his desire. He wanted his packmates to escape. Few tried. Most only skittishly accompanied their escorts to the trucks, whining and growling.<br /> <br /> Finally, Mr.Evans himself went to collect the Shepherd as the last of the kennel dogs was brought out. A spirited, headstrong Border Collie. The dog had been a joy to work with - she had a stubbron streak to rival any dog Ms.Primrose had encountered before, but she was energetic, intelligent, and eager to learn everything she could. Solitaire had amazing potential for agility trials, but at her age wasn't ready quite yet. Her strong will meant she required extra time - but like many others, it'd have been well worth it to see the striking Border Collie winning the gold - dogs like her seemed to grin and laugh when they won, proud as anything with themselves.<br /> <br /> Watching, a sigh was given as the animal control officer slipped a rope over Triton's neck, keeping him safely at a distance with a pole. He held the dog's head secure, despite it's snarling protests, and unhooked the chain restraining him to the doghouse. <i>Rrr..</i> In the blink of an eye, the situation lost control. The Shepherd snapped for the nearby hand, despite the attempt at keeping him controlled, and the passing Border Collie went wild. Previously walking confidently ahead of the volunteer, had spun and darted back towards the volunteering, nipping at his heels as she ran circles around and between his feet. The Shepherd grasped the hand in a firm bite, then turned, ripping away and yanking the pole from the man's other hand easily.<br /> <br /> Before anyone understood, Triton had bounded off, leaping at the volunteer as he tried to regain control of the smaller dog. With a holler, the lead was dropped, and the lost tension enlarged the loop, setting the yapping Solitaire free. In an instant, she was off, barking out victory as she went, only pausing to make a small circle, ensuring the Shepherd was also coming - and sure enough, he was, shaking the pole free and galloping off. Shouts and cries of disbelief followed the dogs as the people regrouped, giving chase. They stood little chance, however, as the dogs covered ground quickly.<br /> <br /> "The fence will slow them down, hurry! If they get away, no telling if we'll find them!"<br /> <br /> The fence fast-approached, and the two dogs barely hesitated. It wasn't like the fencing of the rest of the areas designated for the dogs - it was simple post-and-rail. They didn't let the dogs run the general portion of the property unwatched, with the exception of Ol'General and Triton - and when they did, they obediently returned. However, at this moment in time, no amount of calling or sweet talk would override the desire to escape the strangers. Triton fast-neared the fence, and without a second thought, became airborn, gliding over the fence with ease. The second he hit ground, he was off again, running into the distance.<br /> <br /> On his trail, the Border Collie dove beneath the lowest bar, easily sliding through and giving chase, overtaking the Shepherd before dropping to his side. Ms.Primrose watched, eyes widened behind her glasses as the two dogs vanished from her sight. Then, the sky burst, the clouds that had been gradually creeping over since the morning finally overflowing, shedding rapid drops of rain. The dogs were now out of sight, and the group who'd given chase abandoned it, slowly returning to the trucks.<br /> <br /> "Ms.Primrose.. we'll try to find them, I'll have a search out as soon as the storm passes -"<br /> <br /> "When it rains, it pours, doesn't it?"
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2011-04-30 14:58:59 by #13357