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Description

A sharp yelp rang through the air as Patagonia’s body writhed in pain for a brief moment, curling in sync with her twisted gut. The feeling was so strong that it jerked her from her slumber, and at once, the hound was awake. As she looked around, her heart began to flutter in panic. Something was wrong, she knew; if only she could place it.
Her amber eyes scanned the dark room, taking in Harvey’s sleeping body tucked away in his tattered recliner. Beside of him, Everett was curled on the rug, accompanying the man in his dreams. Patagonia continued to glance around, searching for Bixbite. She was nowhere to be found, and at once, the beagle’s heart dropped into her gut. Her daughter was in danger.
Within seconds, she’d flown from the house, diving out of the front door, which was too old to ever be properly shut.
She checked the barn first, but there was no sight of of the last-born. If she wasn’t there, there was only one other place she could be: the Junkyard.
Bixbite had been feeling down recently, she knew. As the pup grew older, it became more and more obvious to her that she was different. Dogs no longer tried to hide their stares, no longer whispered when she walked by. The humans knew she was different, too.
It had started with the adoptions. One by one, Patagonia’s children had been looked over by humans in search of a companion. Cowbelle, the prettiest of the litter, was the first to go, adopted by none other than Seymour’s handler. Makita had went next, and then Glory, who’d left the farm to be with her father. When the last human came, though, happy endings left.
”I’ll take that one,” he’d said, pointing down at Everett.
”This boy here ain’t up for adoption,” Harvey had replied. ”He’s got th’ asthma and only his momma can stop ‘is attacks. But this one here’s a fine hound.” The old man leaned down and gave Bixbite a good scratch behind the ear, and the stranger scowled.
”That’s not a hound,” he scoffed. ”That’s a mutt. She’s too big and too furry to be of any use. Look, she’s already outgrown her momma. In fact, she looks like that feral dog that raided my coop the other week… Say, you sure she’s the beagle’s kid?”
It had took every ounce of restraint Patagonia had to keep from biting off the man’s pointed finger. Bixbite, however, took a different approach to the situation. Rather than getting angry, the poor pup’s face reflected hurt and misery. This had been the last straw.
The scene replayed on repeat in the hound’s mind as she raced along a beaten trail, heading towards the Junkyard. Three minutes in, however, she spotted a tall, dark figure looming in an abandoned cow pasture; Bixbite.
”Bixbite,” Patagonia said sharply. ”What’re you doing out here?! It’s the middle of the night!” Her voice was hot with anger, but one look at her defeated daughter swept it away in an instant. ”Bixbi, baby, are you okay?” Her voice was softer now, a tone reserved only for her pups.
”Why am I here, mama?” Bixbite said sadly, looking down at her mother. ”I’m not a hound. I can’t hunt. I can’t herd. I can’t… I can’t even find a human who wants me.” The pup’s voice cracked, and she turned away from her mother to hide the tears that had begun to stream down her face.
”You’re here because I love you,” her mother replied. ”And it doesn’t matter if you can’t do any of those things. You’re my daughter, and you will always have a place here with your family.”
”What family?!” The mutt’s voice grew heated as she leapt to her paws and faced her mother, her anger just barely managing to hide her sorrow. ”This isn’t a family and you know it. It’s just you, momma. I miss Hero. I miss the fascination he had for us when we were younger, I miss the love he used to give me until I turned out like you. He could love me despite my father, but he can’t love me now, and he can’t love you. You broke whatever family we could’ve had when you spent that night with Jasper. I could’ve been Hero’s. I could’ve had a family. I could’ve been adopted, just like everyone else. I could’ve had a place here, and now I can’t and it’s all your fault.”Bixbite’s eyes turned cold, and silence hung in the air as mother and daughter locked gazes, emotions flying between the two until they hung in the air like static.
Patagonia remained quiet as she looked up at the pup she’d brought into this world. She took in her oversized paws, her long, clumsy legs, her frizzy fur. She studied the black markings scattered across her pelt, the way her tail curled over her back, the way she looked like a spitting image of her Junkyard lineage; and she couldn’t have been prouder.
”Bixbite,” she said sadly, ”There is so much more to the story… I know you’ve heard dogs talk. I know what they’ve said to you, what they’ve put into your head. But I think… I think it’s time you heard the truth.”
For months, she’d avoided the truth, avoided even thinking about it. She felt weak when she recalled the lonely nights she’d spent with Hero and Jasper. She felt weak when she realized she’d given in to them, given into desire. But as she looked up at her daughter, the pup who’d been so small and defenseless at birth, the pup who’d grown into a brave and beautiful creature right before her very eyes, and she realized it was okay to be weak sometimes.
”Do you remember the story I told you? The one where I was a pet named Sugar?” Patagonia’s gaze softened as she looked up at Bixbite. It had been one of her favorite stories, and when she was younger, the mutt would always interject. ’But momma, you aren’t sweet at all!’
”When I was Sugar, I lived with a man and his family. He had a little girl, and I loved her very much. I thought she loved me too; she took me on walks, she taught me tricks, she bought me toys… I slept beside of her every night, and cuddled up to her when she had nightmares. But one day she just… left me.” The hound looked away and shrugged before turning back to Bixbi. ”And that was it. I thought that if someone who loved me could just leave me behind, then I could leave, too. And so when Delilah adopted me, and I lived with Cardigan, that’s what I did. I left them before they could leave me. And I… I miss them. But I’m not sorry for what I have now. When I met Hero, I thought I could do the same. I thought I could love him, for just a little while at least, and then leave. The same thing happened with your father, albeit a different kind of love. Hero was one of my only friends when I moved here. He showed me around, put up with me, and he… he even saved me once, while we were on a hunt. And I love him for it. I love him like he’s one of my best friends… because he is. And Jasper understood me. He was the one who convinced me that it was okay to look out for myself. Did you know your father asked me what I was doing in the Pets Faction with a nose like mine? He gave me the push I needed to follow my heart and end up here. And I returned the favor when he came to me with an injury. I gave him food, a bed to sleep in, and a friend. I love him, too, but in a different way than the way I love Hero.” Bixbite’s features were softer now, and understanding was slowly starting to take over. But Patagonia wasn’t finished yet.
”There are all types of love in this world, my little gem. And you deserve to experience every single one of them… Love from your mother, your father, your best friend, your mate. There’s nothing wrong with love, Bixbi... don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

Description

A sharp yelp rang through the air as Patagonia’s body writhed in pain for a brief moment, curling in sync with her twisted gut. The feeling was so strong that it jerked her from her slumber, and at once, the hound was awake. As she looked around, her heart began to flutter in panic. Something was wrong, she knew; if only she could place it.
Her amber eyes scanned the dark room, taking in Harvey’s sleeping body tucked away in his tattered recliner. Beside of him, Everett was curled on the rug, accompanying the man in his dreams. Patagonia continued to glance around, searching for Bixbite. She was nowhere to be found, and at once, the beagle’s heart dropped into her gut. Her daughter was in danger.
Within seconds, she’d flown from the house, diving out of the front door, which was too old to ever be properly shut.
She checked the barn first, but there was no sight of of the last-born. If she wasn’t there, there was only one other place she could be: the Junkyard.
Bixbite had been feeling down recently, she knew. As the pup grew older, it became more and more obvious to her that she was different. Dogs no longer tried to hide their stares, no longer whispered when she walked by. The humans knew she was different, too.
It had started with the adoptions. One by one, Patagonia’s children had been looked over by humans in search of a companion. Cowbelle, the prettiest of the litter, was the first to go, adopted by none other than Seymour’s handler. Makita had went next, and then Glory, who’d left the farm to be with her father. When the last human came, though, happy endings left.
”I’ll take that one,” he’d said, pointing down at Everett.
”This boy here ain’t up for adoption,” Harvey had replied. ”He’s got th’ asthma and only his momma can stop ‘is attacks. But this one here’s a fine hound.” The old man leaned down and gave Bixbite a good scratch behind the ear, and the stranger scowled.
”That’s not a hound,” he scoffed. ”That’s a mutt. She’s too big and too furry to be of any use. Look, she’s already outgrown her momma. In fact, she looks like that feral dog that raided my coop the other week… Say, you sure she’s the beagle’s kid?”
It had took every ounce of restraint Patagonia had to keep from biting off the man’s pointed finger. Bixbite, however, took a different approach to the situation. Rather than getting angry, the poor pup’s face reflected hurt and misery. This had been the last straw.
The scene replayed on repeat in the hound’s mind as she raced along a beaten trail, heading towards the Junkyard. Three minutes in, however, she spotted a tall, dark figure looming in an abandoned cow pasture; Bixbite.
”Bixbite,” Patagonia said sharply. ”What’re you doing out here?! It’s the middle of the night!” Her voice was hot with anger, but one look at her defeated daughter swept it away in an instant. ”Bixbi, baby, are you okay?” Her voice was softer now, a tone reserved only for her pups.
”Why am I here, mama?” Bixbite said sadly, looking down at her mother. ”I’m not a hound. I can’t hunt. I can’t herd. I can’t… I can’t even find a human who wants me.” The pup’s voice cracked, and she turned away from her mother to hide the tears that had begun to stream down her face.
”You’re here because I love you,” her mother replied. ”And it doesn’t matter if you can’t do any of those things. You’re my daughter, and you will always have a place here with your family.”
”What family?!” The mutt’s voice grew heated as she leapt to her paws and faced her mother, her anger just barely managing to hide her sorrow. ”This isn’t a family and you know it. It’s just you, momma. I miss Hero. I miss the fascination he had for us when we were younger, I miss the love he used to give me until I turned out like you. He could love me despite my father, but he can’t love me now, and he can’t love you. You broke whatever family we could’ve had when you spent that night with Jasper. I could’ve been Hero’s. I could’ve had a family. I could’ve been adopted, just like everyone else. I could’ve had a place here, and now I can’t and it’s all your fault.”Bixbite’s eyes turned cold, and silence hung in the air as mother and daughter locked gazes, emotions flying between the two until they hung in the air like static.
Patagonia remained quiet as she looked up at the pup she’d brought into this world. She took in her oversized paws, her long, clumsy legs, her frizzy fur. She studied the black markings scattered across her pelt, the way her tail curled over her back, the way she looked like a spitting image of her Junkyard lineage; and she couldn’t have been prouder.
”Bixbite,” she said sadly, ”There is so much more to the story… I know you’ve heard dogs talk. I know what they’ve said to you, what they’ve put into your head. But I think… I think it’s time you heard the truth.”
For months, she’d avoided the truth, avoided even thinking about it. She felt weak when she recalled the lonely nights she’d spent with Hero and Jasper. She felt weak when she realized she’d given in to them, given into desire. But as she looked up at her daughter, the pup who’d been so small and defenseless at birth, the pup who’d grown into a brave and beautiful creature right before her very eyes, and she realized it was okay to be weak sometimes.
”Do you remember the story I told you? The one where I was a pet named Sugar?” Patagonia’s gaze softened as she looked up at Bixbite. It had been one of her favorite stories, and when she was younger, the mutt would always interject. ’But momma, you aren’t sweet at all!’
”When I was Sugar, I lived with a man and his family. He had a little girl, and I loved her very much. I thought she loved me too; she took me on walks, she taught me tricks, she bought me toys… I slept beside of her every night, and cuddled up to her when she had nightmares. But one day she just… left me.” The hound looked away and shrugged before turning back to Bixbi. ”And that was it. I thought that if someone who loved me could just leave me behind, then I could leave, too. And so when Delilah adopted me, and I lived with Cardigan, that’s what I did. I left them before they could leave me. And I… I miss them. But I’m not sorry for what I have now. When I met Hero, I thought I could do the same. I thought I could love him, for just a little while at least, and then leave. The same thing happened with your father, albeit a different kind of love. Hero was one of my only friends when I moved here. He showed me around, put up with me, and he… he even saved me once, while we were on a hunt. And I love him for it. I love him like he’s one of my best friends… because he is. And Jasper understood me. He was the one who convinced me that it was okay to look out for myself. Did you know your father asked me what I was doing in the Pets Faction with a nose like mine? He gave me the push I needed to follow my heart and end up here. And I returned the favor when he came to me with an injury. I gave him food, a bed to sleep in, and a friend. I love him, too, but in a different way than the way I love Hero.” Bixbite’s features were softer now, and understanding was slowly starting to take over. But Patagonia wasn’t finished yet.
”There are all types of love in this world, my little gem. And you deserve to experience every single one of them… Love from your mother, your father, your best friend, your mate. There’s nothing wrong with love, Bixbi... don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”