My name is Bitefighter. I am a 10 lb. Terrier Extraordinaire, an 83rd level intelligence, and the deadliest life form within a 30-galaxy radius.
I am also Kent Wayne’s Mail Dog.
Contrary to disgustingly racist portrayals of my canine brethren, we rarely assault the blue-clad humans. Most of us are actually Best Buddies (not Buddies for Life—that’s a whole ’nother thing) with all mail-people, including the UPS staff and the always-reliable FedExers. I’ve gotten GREAT treats from mail-carriers, and in return I’ve given them quality hugs. Mind you—these aren’t tokens of affection I dispense lightly, unlike some of my whorish peers. Me and Mailman Jake—the local mailman—share a professional relationship: he delivers mail, and I protect him from evil.
Today is like any other day. When the clock strikes 3, I peer through the window, eyes narrowed. Mailman Jake requires a safe ingress through Kent Wayne’s yard. My duty is to establish security and foil any dastards who might try and harm him. God help the asshole who attacks Mailman Jake—I will make them rue the day.
Jake pulls up in his boxy truck. I watch raptly as he steps out of the car, whistling to himself, shuffling through a handful of letters. I shake my head in disbelief—this is the most vulnerable part of his approach, and yet he’s completely inattentive, just like my doofy pet human: Kent Wayne. No situational awareness, no visible weapons. This lack of mindfulness seems to be common among humans—they all seem oblivious to their immediate surroundings.
He steps off his truck. This is my cue! I squirt out the doggy door and—
—“ARF ROWF ROOF ARF BARK!”—
—let loose with a thundering war cry, scaring off any potential attackers. Jake stops fiddling with his letters, and crouches down to greet me.
“Hey buddy—it’s me! How you doing, little guy?”
“Arf roof rowfskies mcArf.” (Translation: I know it’s you, idiot—I’m just scaring off potential assassins).
He doesn’t understand (of course), and since I’m in a good mood, I decide not to hump his leg. (He knows who’s boss; I don’t need to put him in his place unless he’s being extra stupid). He scratches my head, paying obeisance like all good humans should. I relax a little; humans aren’t all bad…they’ve just been brainwashed by misguided evolutionary instincts that have iterated into dumb stuff like reality TV and—
“ROWF ROOF ARFSKY MCARF!”
A dozen chihuahuas run out from the neighbor’s yard, quickly hemming us in. They snarl and hiss, baring their teeth like aggro jerkoffs. Mailman Jake stands up and holds his hands out.
“Whoa little fellas! I’m just delivering the mail. Never seen you guys before…what are your names?” He extends a hand toward one (idiot!) and snaps it back, barely avoiding a storm of chihuahua bites. “WHOA!”
The lead chihuahua glares at me and spits, “Long have you evaded us, Bitefighter. You are known far and wide as a champion of dogs, yet you thwart our plans at every turn! What say you TRAITOR???”
“You are not dogs,” I reply evenly. “You drain your humans’ anima and turn them into unwitting beta-males, or doddering cat-ladies. No true dog would indulge in such evil—perhaps that is why you look like weasels!”
It points its paw at me and screams, “I WILL HUMP YOUR FACE!”
I bare my fangs and roar, “TERRIERS ETERNUS! TONIGHT WE DINE IN HELL!”
The next few moments are a blur of gnashing teeth and wild paw swings. I’m a master in dog-to-dog martial arts, but technique goes right out the window with multiple attackers. I’ve managed to knock out three of them, but this is not looking good…there’s too many…and they’re so strong…
So…HNNGGHHH!!! (biff! Pow! Smack!)
Kent Wayne runs out the door and yells, “WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE???” He’s got his eReader in his coarse-knuckled hands, and he accidentally drops it, opening it to Echo and activating its reality distortion powers. Magic flash.
The rest of the neighborhood dogs—Great Danes, pitbulls, Labs, schnauzers; REAL DOGS, in other words—teleport in and join the fray. Soon, the evil chihuahuas are fleeing down the street. I clamber onto the back of a Great Dane and scream, “AFTER THEM! THE LEAD ONE TRIED TO HUMP MY FACE!”
With a triumphant roar, me and my dog buddies chase the fake dogs down the street, arfing and rowfing up a goddamn storm. I cast a look over my shoulder and watch Kent Wayne and Mailman Jake shaking their heads in befuddlement.
Kent Wayne says, “Dogs are weird, huh?” Mailman Jake nods in reply.
I smile and face front, charging forward on the back of the Great Dane.
You humans don’t have a clue. Mwahahaha!
Are you a feisty furry who’s deadset on protecting your mailperson from roving bands of evil chihuahuas? Never fear! Get Echo Vol. 1 on Kindle here: Vol. 1 on Kindle. Vol. 2 on Kindle here: Vol.2 on Kindle Vol. 3 on Kindle here: Vol. 3 on Kindle #kindle #kindleunlimited #sciencefiction #scifi #books #novel #book