Chapter Text
Master was sad.
Which was really really really really really really weird because Master never ever ever ever ever got sad.
But today Master was sad.
The tiny humans were in bed but Master’s litter mate was over, talking and pacing, pacing and talking. Sometimes Buddy wondered if she would ever run out of words and yet more and more poured out.
Master’s curled up on the couch, staring off into the unknown with salty smelling tears rolling down her cheeks. Buddy had whined with her in solidarity earlier trying to lick the water from her pale face but all he’d received in return was a weak head pat and the litter mate shooing him back to his bed in the corner.
The lady who smelled of old french fries and stale coffee arrived not long after. They drank the strong smelling juice and then Master got angry.
Which was really really really really really really exciting because Master never ever ever ever ever got angry.
Not even when he'd gotten hold of the Thanksgiving turkey and evaded the whole family for a full hour (or was it five minutes he could never remember), Master had been frustrated but not angry. It'd been one of the best days of Buddy’s life and even Master could laugh about it now.
He’d barked in celebration as she destroyed the room he wasn’t allowed in before being shushed by the other two. They didn’t understand, not like he and Master did, destruction was a part of life whether it be a filing cabinet for her or a few pairs of mens dress shoes for Buddy.
Then they’d left Master alone to drink more of the strong smelling juice and sit in the dark flicking through paper after paper muttering to herself. Buddy was once again grateful he’d never learned to read, it seemed a heavy burden.
He was laying down in the family room on the edge of sleep when he heard the fridge open.
He’d lifted his head to sniff the air before settling back down after getting hints of new car smell and sugary sweet perfume; Car-man was home.
There were a few hushed words exchanged and Car-man blubbering before the front door closed and a car backed out of the driveway.
He was allowed to sleep on the end of Master’s bed that night, a rare treat! Though from the way she’d tossed and turned Buddy guessed Master didn’t get much rest.
The next few days were pretty standard. Get up, go on a walk with Master making sure that no one peed on HIS tree(the large oak at the end of the block), eat breakfast, chase the squirrels that dared to enter HIS yard, bark at the tabby that taunted him by sunning herself on the front porch, then a nap until the small humans got home. Dinner was next plus whatever the small humans snuck him under the table until Master caught them.
Buddy’d always wanted to point out that Master did the same thing herself when Car-man made his so-called ‘famous enchiladas’.
The only things he would classify as odd were the Car-man coming and going for short periods of time but never staying and Master’s littermate and french fry friend were over more, huddled around the kitchen counter speaking in such low tones even his superior hearing couldn’t make it out.
He’d been especially put out when right in the middle of his midday nap the three of them burst through the front door and gather in the living room, the smell of adrenaline lingering in the air. There was giddy laughter and then yelling as more and more bunches of paper landed on the table.
Buddy didn’t get what the big deal was.
He took the time to make a thorough inspection of the pile while it was being sorted and it was just the standard cotton and linen blend with a coating of polymer that he’d seen Car-man pullout of his pocket a thousand times before yet Master and the other two were entranced by it.
In the end he decided not to dwell on it. The bunches of paper made Master happy and that was enough.
*** One Week Later***
There was a rattling on the back door that had Buddy up in an instant, thank goodness because he really needed to potty.
What greeted him when the door was finally forced open was rather unexpected. No Master or Car-man, not even one of the small humans but four large men.
For a long beat he and the man in front(clearly the Alpha) stared at one another.
“...”
The man tilted his head to the right. Buddy titled his own to the left.
The man switched to the left so Buddy went to the right.
“...”
The moment broke and the man shifted to the side and the others followed suit parting to allow Buddy access to the outside. Not that he needed permission, it was HIS territory after all.
When his business is concluded(he’d chosen a particularly lovely spot by the big slide while ignoring- as always- the fresh tanbark Master had put down specifically for him to potty in) Buddy has a small jolt in the back of his mind that he had maybe kinda sort of messed up.
He’d failed to protect his house, he’d let complete strangers breach the walls, he’d brought great dishonor to his whole family!
Bounding back up the stairs he formulated a plan and that was...that was...well he had no plan so he’d have to wing it just like every other decision in his life. Maybe if he barked loud enough they’d run away or if it came down to it he could totally bite a leg or a hand, not hard but surely enough to bruise.
That whole non-plan was completely forgotten when he’d reached the kitchen and spotted the leader man casually leaning against the counter holding something in his large hands.
Buddy would recognize that smell anywhere.
One of the Special Treats.
A succulent honey roasted dry aged pig ear that he only got on special occasions. Like when he’d cut his paw on the stupid sprinkler and had to wear the cone of shame for two weeks or when one of the small humans woke up late at night and used the step ladder to reach where the Special Treats were kept.
How did this friendly intruder/robber/murder know they were his most favorite?!
“Sit.” The Strangers low voice commands and so Buddy sits.
“Shake.” He holds out his hand and Buddy lifts his paw, hopefully they’ve come to an agreement.
“Down.” Buddy plops down on the kitchen floor but his patience is wearing thin and he lets out a gruff *woof* in protest. All he gets in return is a raised eyebrow.
The leader looks over his shoulder and jokes with the other large men something about ‘uppity bitches’ and Buddy snorts loudly in offense, he’s a BOY!
“Roll over.” Buddy just stares blankly back, he knows the trick he just doesn’t want to do it.
FINALLY the treat sails through the air and Buddy snatches it up.
He shallows it in four bites, truly taking his time and savoring the immaculate flavor.
The Alpha squats down to rub and scratch his ears and Buddy’s starting to like him more and more.
“Where’s your mama at big guy? She’s got something that belongs to me.”
Buddy responds by sniffing at the ink in the man's neck. A mix of titanium dioxide, lead, chromium, nickel, iron oxides, and ash. The same ingredients that make up the marking on Master’s hip. He want’s to tell the human that Master will get here when she get’s here
As if on cue the familiar sounds of Master’s van pulling into the driveway reach his ears and a few seconds later the leader hears it too. Buddy watches the man swing himself up to sit on the kitchen island, a move that the largest of the small humans had tried before being yelled at to get down.
There’s a key turning in the lock and Buddy rushes over to greet his Master excited for her to meet his new friends. The door opens and he dances around Master’s feet rejoicing on the fact that she’s made it home. It's been literally forever.
“Hey Buddy what’s wrong? Need to go potty? Need to pee-pee?”
“Nah he’s good we took him out.”
Master does something very unMasterlike, she drops all the food she’d brought in on the ground and screams. It’s a non traditional avant garde type of hello…Buddy loves it. Mostly because while Master taps furiously on her small light box and sits tense in the corner opposite his new friend Buddy can lick up the egg smashed on the hardwood floor.
After his snack though it’s hard to ignore Master’s fear which only mounts when the other two arrive. By then he’s been rudely pushed into the backyard which isn’t usually an issue except for the stench of anxiety that permeates from the house that has him pacing the lawn. He can smell the moles burrowing under the soft dirt and he hears the rats running across the power line but he can’t break focus from the house.
His Master needs him.
Several hours pass before he’s let back in. The small humans are home but not for long.
Master bares her teeth extra wide and speaks in a high pitched tone which puts the small humans at ease but Buddy can see the tense muscles under her skin and can hear the strain in her voice.
She’s almost out the door when she rushes back in and puts food in his dish, it’s way too early and only one scoop instead of the usual two. He reasons that the rationing must begin now to avoid hardship later, whatever has her so anxious must be big and the appropriate preparations and sacrifices have to be taken.
Master is barely out of the driveway by the time he finishes and it’s back to patrolling the house.
The tabby comes and lounges on the front porch but he doesn’t have it in him to bark at her to go away. She saunters off after a few minutes in search of another more gullible victim.
A man with a beard and hat walks by with a vaguely familiar labradoodle(perhaps they’ve sniffed each others butts at the park before) but they stick to the sidewalk and all he gives them is a warning growl as they pass.
He does bark at the person in the small shorts with the large bag but it’s just not the same without Master’s voice shouting from the laundry room, ‘Buddy stop! It’s just the mailman you see him everyday!’
He drinks from his water bowl and takes small naps on one of the small humans beds, as of late he prefers the smallest humans because there’s usually a forgotten cookie or handful of gummy bears shoved under the pillow.
He swears he closes his eyes for a second only to be woken by the sound of Master’s car pulling into the driveway. It’s dark outside but the moon is high so he can make out the shapes of Master and her litter mate, they’re dragging something large behind them wrapped in a quilted blanket.
He follows them from window to window as they make a slow march down the side of the house and into the backyard the whole time whispering furiously at each other. At one point the litter mate drops whatever they’re dragging and it lets out a grunt.
His ears perk up as everyone freezes, an eternity passes and Buddy can just make out Master inching towards the snow shovel Car-man fails to put in the shed every winter no matter how many times Master asks so it's just permanently leaned against the fence.
But the unknown object doesn’t move and they begin dragging it again.
Buddy watches from the back door as they put together a rudimentary pulley system using the garden hose and pull whatever it is up the big purple slide into the tree house. There’s more half whispered yelling and some rude hand gestures exchanged but they manage to do it.
He really hopes it’s not another dog or worse a very large cat.
Finally they come down without their burden and embrace, the smaller human’s body shaking. Then they explicitly go against Buddy’s wishes and get back in Master’s car and drive away.
Great now he not only has to patrol the house but also keep an eye on the tree house, he’s hated that thing ever since Car-man built it when he was a young pup, and there were only three small human’s instead of four.
It’s not structurally sound, the biggest small human almost broke his neck two years ago trying to backflip off it, every summer without fail a wasp nest moves in, plus Buddy just feels it detracts from the natural beauty of HIS backyard.
An hour later only Master returns and without her usual routine of showering and skincare she falls asleep fully clothed on her bed, not even bothering to pull back the covers. Buddy for his part nuzzles the side of her face where there's a slight blood stain but she barely reacts. Finally he settles at her feet and lightly snoozes as he listens to Master fitfully rest.
The thing up in the tree house is a problem for tomorrow, Buddy reasons as he belly crawls up the bed to get closer to Master. Without any fuss she threads her fingers into his long flowing fur, wrapping her arms around his torso, and thankfully settles into a more restful sleep snuggling him close.
A dog’s work is never done but at the end of the day it’s rewarding.