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Hi, my name is Orii
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The Dog in the Dumpster

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Story Rating   5  with 2 vote(s)
By Original_screen_name Send DollMailSend Email
Created: 2012-12-27 14:37:29 All stories by Original_screen_name
The dog lived behind a dumpster in the alley where Joy Street came to an abrupt dead-end. He was a medium-sized mangy thing, with fur that might have once been brown or gold, but presently was colored a grimy shade of dirt grey. Underneath his matted coat his ribs were easily visible and his tail had a crook in it from a break that had taken place years ago. The dog’s favorite time of day was nine o’clock in the evening, though the canine, not owning a watch, had no idea the hour was designated thus. In his mind it was simply known as “Jump into the dumpster now and find something to eat.”

The street in front of the alley was home to several fine businesses, one of which happened to be a restaurant. Unfortunately for the dog the venue was one that only catered to vegetarians, but when you’re a starving mongrel living behind a trash bin, you can’t afford to be picky. Some of the vegetables weren’t too bad, but he always knew in the back of his mind when he ate them that somehow it wasn’t right. Dogs are carnivorous by nature and his instincts always led him to search out the smell of meat.

Some of the things he recovered from the dumpster smelled and looked vaguely meat-like, but he always found the taste was off somehow. Their texture was too soft and they had a blandness to them that didn’t sit well with his stomach. Still, it seemed like the best he could get.

It was, in fact, exactly the best he could get living where he did. The strangely textured not-quite meat was what he had to settle for day after day for his dinner. Until he met Morose Darkenday, that is.

Morose enjoyed scavenging things out of dumpster as well. He had saved a fairly large collection of treasures that other men had deemed trash. He even found lunch in the garbage sometimes and being singularly unaffected by whatever color of mold or fungus was growing on his food, he usually ate it with some enjoyment. Morose thought he had seen just about everything imaginable turn up in a dumpster at some point, but he had never found a dog there. Never, that is, before the foggy evening he jumped into a garbage bin and found it already occupied by someone hairy and flea-bitten who smelled of out of date tofu.

Morose didn’t have much experience dealing with dogs; mostly they barked at him from a distance and then he ran away, but that didn’t seem to be the case this time. As the dog shuffled eagerly over the rubbish to sniff eagerly at him, Morose found he had no trouble thinking of a name for the shabby creature. The animal practically emitted the title from every pore.

“What a stench,” Morose murmured, stroking the dog’s ears absently.

The canine laid its head down on the boy’s leg and started to drool contently all over them.

“You are a nice dog,” Morose said, a bit taken aback. Rubbing the creature’s neck he began to search through the matted fur, but could find no collar. “Shall I call you Stench?”

The dog leaned its head into his hands, unused to affection from humans. Morose took that as a yes.

An hour and a half later, Arthur Lacksgrey opened the door to his house to find two lanky, bony creatures looking up at him with four dark, pitiful eyes.

Arthur turned his head to the side, pushing back his sandy blonde hair from his face. He wrinkled his nose, and frowned. “Morose,” he said, “what is that stench? I know it’s not you.” A glandular condition meant Morose always smelled of lilac even after rummaging through dumpsters for hours on end. The mangy creature beside him, however, was absolutely over-powering.

Morose frowned at his friend. “Stench is a dog,” he said, not quite clarifying the situation.

“That’s a dog?” asked Arthur, inclining his head towards the mangy beast.

“I found him in the dumpster behind Joy Street. I think he needs to see a doctor, Arthur. That’s why I brought him here.”

Morose attempted to brush his long black hair out of his eyes only to have it stubbornly fall back to cover one side of his face. From what Arthur could see the boy looked hopeful.

“I’m not that kind of doctor,” he said, fighting the smile pushing at the edge of his lips. “Actually, I’m still a pre-med, Morose. I have no certifications, but I know a vet.”

“A vet!” Morose sounded for all the world as if the thought of an animal doctor had never occurred to him. “Yes, that’s precisely what Stench needs. A veterinarian. Do you think they could groom him as well? He lives up to his name a little too much.”

Arthur let the smile free. “I know a place.” He said. “Come on, we’ll take my car, but let me run inside and get a few garbage bags for your friend to sit on in the backseat, otherwise we’ll be smelling him for years to come.”

Morose agreed enthusiastically and as Arthur ducked back inside he could faintly hear the other boy relating a tale about a typewriter to the dog. The truth was Arthur would have been willing to live with Stench’s stench in his car for years to come if it meant he could spend time with Morose. The other boy didn’t need to know all that, though, he thought.

Morose liked rescued things. He liked old things that could be made new. Arthur was never certain of all the reasons Morose liked him, a shiny rich boy who had easily blended into the “in” crowd before he’d befriended a “freak.” He was always careful never to reveal too much to Morose, though, hard as it was with his friend’s crippling earnestness.

They drove to the vet with the windows open. Arthur half-watched Morose delighting in the dog’s enjoyment as he kept one eye one the road. When they had reached their destination he was fairly sure he’d never get the dog smell out of his vehicle, but thought that Morose might cover up the smell if he was rotated from seat to seat on the next few trips. Morose had his own smell that lingered, in a good way, wherever he and his glandular condition went.


Note: Hi. My name is Orii (short for Original_screen_name) or you can call me Debbie. Anyways, I used to hang out here years ago and I thought I'd pop in and check the place out again.

This was just a drabble-y story-type thing I whipped up half at school and half at home on a whim. Maybe if you don't know the characters it isn't that great, I don't know. Anyways, comment and criticism are welcomed. Criticism, especially, actually. If you think there's something I could be doing better please let me know. I'd love to hear it.

Nice seeing you again, TDP, I'm off to check out other stories.


Member Comments  

United Kingdom
All My Stories
Posted On: February 12, 2013
i love it so different to eveything else i've read

Ukiah, CA
All My Stories
Posted On: January 1, 2013
I've missed you Ori

I wish there was a way to revive this site.

Lost Lake, CA
All My Stories
Posted On: December 28, 2012
I lurk sometimes, but I never really expected one of the older members of this site to come back.. Anyway, nice. I like it a lot.

Zionsville, IN
All My Stories
Posted On: December 28, 2012
I'm so sad the site's dead. I used to love it here.

Thanks for reading, by the way. I was sort of resigned to nobody looking at this. Arthur doesn't like guys, but he likes Morose. And Morose likes...well, he's confused. And oblivious.

I actually have more about them posted here, but there's not a real order to the stories because they were all one shot drabbles like this.

Ooltewah, TN
All My Stories
Posted On: December 28, 2012
its always nice to find a live person on this site. its been dead so long its saddening. does arthur like guys?
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