When I was little I used to go crazy whenever the doorbell rang. I was just a young kid with a lot of pent up energy who thought he knew everything. Maybe there was a time you felt that way too?

In the beginning, my pack seemed to like it when I barked and growled and jumped up and down, clicking my toenails on the floor. They would point at me and laugh and make smiley faces. So I thought I was being a good boy for sure.

As I got a little older, the alpha and his female started fighting a lot. My instincts told me to stay out of the way, so I would usually hide under the bed when it happened. One time I scooted under there and found one of the young ones. She was sad, so I snuggled up to her and licked her face to cheer her up. It was salty. She whispered “I love you, Benny.” And I loved her back so much even though I couldn’t tell her in words.

The fighting got worse and worse until finally the female and the young ones left. Then it was just me and my alpha. I was pretty big by then, and I thought of challenging him, but he was tough, and there weren’t any females around anyway, so I stayed quiet.

Sometimes he would pat me on the head and say I was a good old boy for not leaving him. And I would woof kind of low and agreeing like and lick his hand and that was good.

Other times, he got mad at me for coming in the house with mud on my feet or for sleeping on the couch. Oh boy that one time he was late getting home and I just couldn’t hold it – I got beat real bad that time. But after that he made me a special little door so I could go outside whenever I wanted.

Mostly it was hard to know what to expect from my alpha. He was sometimes gentle, sometimes harsh, and always unpredictable. I learned that, whenever there were empty brown bottles lined up on the floor next to his chair, I needed to be extra careful. It wasn’t safe then, even if my alpha was asleep.

Then one day, the young ones came. I was so excited, I did my little dance and clicked my toenails  on the floor. The pack made smiley faces like they used to, and the alpha said, “Benny’s a good old boy. He’s so happy to see you.” We were all very content and I got so many pets but after a little while he yelled at the young ones and they cried. The female came and took them away and they didn’t come back any more. I was so sad because I missed them a lot when they were gone and for a little while I thought everything would be like it was before.

I still made a little show of protecting the place now and again, just for the pets. Although, to be honest, it wasn’t the same without the rest of the pack around.

One day, when there were a lot of bottles lined up on the floor, the doorbell rang. I woofed a couple of times, just doing my job, but the alpha said to shut up so I did. I padded off into the kitchen and laid down on my bed in the corner and didn’t think another thing about it, not even when I heard thumping noises coming from the living room.

A little while later I got up and went to check on things. My alpha was sitting in his chair, but not resting. He was leaning forward and arranging the sharp bits on the table. I saw him use the sharp bits before to cut apart a dead deer. They made me nervous. I went over to get a closer look, but I stepped in something sticky and wet and my alpha yelled at me to get out of there so I did.

The next day, my alpha was extra nice to me. He gave me treats and lots of pets. But my instincts told me not to trust him. His hands smelled like dead things.

Some days went by and things got back to normal. Then one night the doorbell rang again. I woofed, nervously this time because of everything that had happened with the noises and the sharp bits and the dead thing smells, but it wasn’t really thoughts I had about it. Just a feeling.

This time I stuck around. A man came in. He was wearing a toolbelt and it smelled like leather and grease. My alpha pointed to the talking box in the corner. There used to be a bigger talking box there, but now we just had this little one since the female and the young ones left. The man in the toolbelt got down low and looked at the box and that’s when I realized my alpha was holding one of the sharp bits. He was walking up on the man and he had a look on his face I did not like at all, not even from my alpha.

Somewhere deep down I remembered the sticky wet floor and the empty bottles and the dead smells and my instincts took over. I barked and growled and jumped up and down, clicking my toenails on the floor, just like when I was little. And the man in the toolbelt turned around and screamed and scampered away and out the front door.

Then my alpha looked at me with that same look I saw before and I turned tail and ran. I ran right through the little door and into the night and I didn’t stop for anything.

About Prompt-A-Day: The rules are simple. Every day, I generate a prompt using Story Shack’s awesome writing prompt generator. Then I set a timer for one hour. At the end of the hour, I post what I’ve got. Sometimes it’s decent. Sometimes it sucks. Sometimes I fail at the prompt. Sometimes I do okay. I do not edit, unless I find a typo, because I can’t help fixing those. Feel free to join in and post a link to your writing in the comments.