Luc shifted again, stretching as much as his chair let him. He arched his back. His soggy diaper crinkled with every move. Mushy mud slid out of him and filled the seat of his diaper. He was too used to messing himself to bat an eyelash. It didn’t bother him one bit.

He slid back down onto his chair cushion. The mess in his diaper squelched forward, filling in every nook and cranny of his private area. He took special pills that nullified fecal odor so no one knew he was messy unless they checked his diaper.

A soft whine made him look up. Outlined in the yellow streetlight glow sat a dog. A very big, wolfy-looking dog.

The dog whined again, a happy greeting. The fluffy tail wagged. The animal appeared friendly, so it didn’t startle him. He’d grown up around dogs. They had two mutts back home. The size didn’t intimidate him. Much.

“Hey there. You’re a big one. Where did you come from?” Luc smiled then looked up for the owner. People kept walking by. Children snatched up candy then darted off to the next booth.

“Where’s your owner?” He focused past the lights, peering into the surrounding shadows. No one stood there either. People continued on with their business.

The dog stood up on its hind legs and pawed at the lantern on the table. The on/off button was wide and easy to press. It clicked on.

“Aren’t you a clever pooch!” He exclaimed in surprise. With the added light, he got a good look at his furry, four-legged visitor.

No collar. Shaggy, curly brown fur. A little on the chunky side. If he didn’t know better, he’d say the dog was a wolf. Impossible; there were no wolves around here. Hadn’t been for a very long time. He’d never heard of a wolf with curly brown fur. The animal’s long legs, tail, large paws, the shape of its head and muzzle all screamed wolf. Mr. Walton, who lived way out, kept a low content wolfdog. His animal had a bloodline that was more dog than wolf.

 

This one looked more wolf than dog. The dog clearly was a mixed mutt. Maybe some Siberian Husky or Alaskan Malamute for the wolfy look. The curls made him think of spaniels, and the size of a Great Dane.

The dog sat on its haunches and scratched at an ear with a back leg. Lucas glanced down. “Oh, you’re a girl.”

At his voice, the dog whined again and lay down on her belly. Her curly, fluffy tail wagged. Gray-blue eyes looked up at him expectantly.

He looked around again. No one stood around. “You’re too well groomed to be a stray, and too well trained. You must be somebody’s pet. Did they dump you?” Out here in the country, that happened all too frequently. His aunt, along with their neighbor Mrs. King, volunteered at the local Animal Shelter. He helped out too sometimes.