rawhide halos chp. 1

8/7/2019 Rawhide Halos Chp. 1

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ChapterOneOriginally he was Max, a German Shepherd. Desperate

and lonely. Acted once unwisely. Got a second chance. Withwhat does he change his fate?

One day, here he was, this dog, chewing on a rawhide

bone. He was a "bad dog", and just wasn't trained correctly

at first, and was abused. In Toledo, Ohio, on a farm, this dog

had a wonderful life, everything was good, everywhere, if

only he'd not been stressed out by his own self-chosen

duties.

"Maxie! Maxie! Come here, Maxie!" shouted Georgianna, a

little girl who was the young princess of the farmhouse. This

dog had been herding sheep and barking at cars all day. He

had been abused before and he was adopted and was

thinking about it. He was not at all in the mood. "Maxie,

here, boy! Stop chewing the bone and play with me!" So he

got up and played awhile. He played fetch and did games in

the playhouse for two hours.

The came her brother. "Hey, dog, ya wanna play?" said

the uncouth teenager. "Here, boy, let's play tug." He got a

tug toy and began to poke him with it. "Here, boy, ya like

that? Huh?" All his friends behind him were laughing as he

made the dog cower and growl. "What's wrong, you don't


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wanna play?" The dog snarled. "Ooh, I'm so scared!" The dog

got up onto the boy and attacked him. He bit at his ragged

clothes. The boy, named Sam, fell to the ground, screamed,

and the dog ran, unsure of the noises he heard. His red

bandanna gave away where he was hiding in the bushes.After an hour or so, this weird man in a thick, white suit

caught him with a metal leash and shoved him into a cage

inside a big white truck that said "SPCA Animal Control

Officers". He was usually a good dog. He'd had a good

reason to do what he did, but he still did something wrong.

On the way to the place, the place that family picked him

up from, he saw many other dogs. One was a rescued

fighting pit bull, one a mangy Chihuahua, and there were at

least ten border collies that were obviously overbred. There

was one, only one, other dog who had bitten someone and

was captured to be taken away. His name was Rebel, a

poodle of a brownish-black shade. He snarled, growled, and

scratched the pit bull behind him when he whined. The only

one who wasn't a dog was Bella, a Birman cat, fluffy and

white with blue-black points. She scratched and hissed at

anyone who got near her at her favorite windowsill. Her

owners had to move into a cat-free apartment. She was

purring until Rebel barked, and she scratched and made a

shreek "REEEEEER!" to assure her peace at naptime.

The animals reached the humane society kennels at the

SPCA. They would get their checkups within an hour of

arrival, and each pet was shy and aggressive. There was a

Pembroke Welsh Corgi at the right of Max's checkup tablewho barked and whined. He had an injured paw, his fat,

stubby legs struggling to hold up his long, fat body of brown,

black and white, with his big, rounded ears, similar to Max's,

pricked straight up in the air. His small, long, white muzzle

with a big, black nose at the end, wiggled furiously trying to


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avoid the worm medicine the veterinarian was trying to

administer. She smiled at the end and said, "All done! That

wasn't so bad, was it?" The Corgi smiled and wagged its

stumpy, docked tail. Max was sad at the memory of playing

with Georgianna through tunnels and down slides. He missedit. All of it. But he'd be going through worse than he was

then.

rawhide halos chp. 1

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