Found another one
http://deathcomes4u.tumblr.com/post/73661805922/buggy-heichou-rotking-johnthedragon
Walking was a problem. And it was a problem because of Boxing.
When an owner got tired of their Uplift, or the cute Bull-Terrier/Wolf pup became too big, or it chewed the furniture or peed on things or otherwise acted like a dog who the owner hadn’t bothered to train… they were put in a box, and left on a corner, and told to wait for someone to take them home.
And every single time someone walked by, or slowed their car, the Boxed Uplift would look up in hope and optimism. Watch the humans who might own them pass. And wish.
Sometimes, they would get food from the kind-hearted. Sometimes, they would slink into the alleys and become a Stray. Sometimes, they would sit and wait in that box until they died of exposure or starvation or both.
One in twenty would get adopted into a home that wanted them. One in one hundred would actually find the loving home some boxes proclaimed they were free to.
Aelki had been writing reports about this to the Cogniscent Rights Committee for the better part of a Galactic Standard Year(1). As a Hitchhiker, there were morals and laws she had to uphold that went beyond the normal travel advisories.
The Rules of the Loyal Order of Hitchhikers were many, but the good ones managed to float upwards into the low numbers. Rules like, Don’t judge, or Don’t interfere were vitally necessary for survival, but the really good rule of, If you have to break the rules, break them good and hard, was an escape clause that a Hitchhiker could live with.
Aelki knew from watching that this particular Uplift was a chimera of wolf and any breed of dog known for its muscles. Bred or made for the arena and left on the corner with only the box to cover his dignity. There were no scars in his fur. Which only meant that the scars were on the inside.
This, she knew, would require the Big Towel. And more time on Nufurria, busking and storytelling and outright begging for a flight anywhere the heck away from Nufurria.
“Hi there,” she said to the big dog. He towered above her, even in a sitting position. “Would you like to come home with me?”
A smile full of fangs that could bring nightmares to any kind dentist. A frantically wagging tail. “Home please? Yes please! Clothes please?”
She helped him put a towel around his hips. Fastened it in place with a safety pin. “This will do for now. We need to go shopping for something that will fit you. I’m Aelki. What’s your name?”
Confused, the giant dog picked up the box he’d been sitting in and read -painfully- the first word he could understand. “Or… Oray… O'Ranges.”
She wanted to cry, but she had to smile. “Good boy. Let’s go on an adventure, hey?” The Cogniscent Rights Committee was going to hear about this even if she had to carry O'Ranges into their offices herself.
(1) Twenty-four hours in a Standard Day, ten Days in a Standard Week, four Weeks in a Standard Month and ten Months in a Standard Year. Only humans find this confusing.
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