"Well," she said standing back up, her knees getting sore. The jeans barely had a fold in them they were so tight around her flesh. "He couldn't believe that you were eating and drinking out of those dingy dog bowls," she laughed.
Frisky looked back at his remaining bowl. It wasn't so bad. Some grit in the bottom of the water and a leaf floating on top.
"Randy's taking little Amy back to school this morning on his way to the office. Checking her back in."
That was good, or at least he guessed it was good. Things that happened outside of these four chain link walls weren't much of his concern.
"It's supposed to rain tonight," she said.
That should have been his concern but wasn't as his compelled reliance on the humans prevented his ability to do anything about it.
"I doubt Randy will let me buy a dog house your size. Especially for only one night's use."
The other two dogs had little houses in the back of their cages. Much too small for Frisky to fit in even if he had one.
"Either way, it's just water, " she said starting down the path. "You'll survive. Maybe even clean you up a bit."
Frisky watched Valerie walk away, her butt bringing an animated vitality to the jeans she wore. Her yellow top almost self illuminated in the shade of the trees. The auburn hair hanging naturally down her shoulders irradiating strong hints red in contrast to the greenery around her. Then she was gone.
By noon the paltry clouds the sun had so confidently shown through started to accumulate into more sinister looking adversaries. As the day progressed the sun retreated behind the accumulating overcast while the underbelly turned a nasty dark gray.
The temperature cooled off at least ten degrees inside of an hour. The weather, as Valerie had told him, indeed was turning inhospitable.
Ignoring the impending weather Frisky didn't bother to worry about it. Why bother? Chains, locks, chain link fence, and more locks assured that if anything were to change it would have to be by the people in charge, his superiors, the real people.
"Storm coming in."
The voice came unexpectedly from down the path as a precursor to Manuel lugging a blue tarp under his arm. Without his feeding cart he limped slightly with signs of a hard life and bowed legs.
"You have no dog house to hide in," Manuel said as he marched through the kennel and up to Frisky's cage. "You're a big dog/slave."
Frisky watched as he unfolded the tarp in front of the cage. Manuel had rope he was going to use to strap it down of which Frisky noted but refused to go through the engineering process in his mind. Not his business. It was Manuel's doing.
Manuel stayed busy without interacting with the dog/slave. The last two days the dog/slave had become silent, mute, unresponsive in any meaningful human kind of way. Not only was the dog/slave chained and mitted in such a way as to deny it any sort of human activity it now had retarded its verbal communication skills.
Still, Manuel seemed determined to make sure it had protection from the elements. He fought with the tarp trying to get it balanced in appearance evenly across the top of the cage. The winds racing by at ever increasing speeds had other plans for the tarp.
Frisky sat and watched as the man ran from one side of his cage to the other trying to beat the gusts of wind at its own game. Manuel tied off rope here and there trying to keep the makeshift shelter in place.
Due to his extended period of time hobbled, shackled and chained his instincts were now his primary survival mechanism. The rustling of tree leaves all around Frisky triggered the need to find shelter which he had no access to. But the man outside the cage was determined to provide for it that refuge.
"That's the best I can do for you, dog," Manuel said standing back to overlook his handwork. "I best be getting you all fed before it hits," he said exiting the kennel area wince he came.
Minutes later he returned as promised. He pushed the cart with urgency. Each bowl he filled at twice the speed of normal including Frisky's. There was no attempt at banter from Manuel. It was just taking care of business at a hurried pace as thunder began to roll across the landscape.
Without so much as a goodbye Manuel shoved his cart down the gravel pathway and out of sight of Frisky.
The sound of randomly popping kernels of popcorn was the first indication it had begun to rain as droplets hit the blue, plastic tarp.
