Raining Cats & Dogs Episode 2

“On the last episode of Raining Cats & Dogs, Fido the loner tried to fit in with a new dog family consisting of Lady, Tashi and a bunch of adorable pups.

He enjoyed the hot doggy style sex at first, but then found the idea of a family quite disgusting.

Even more disgusting to Fido was the fact that the humans and the dogs welcomed filthy, dirty, conniving cats into their midst. This was more than Fido could take, so he did what any self-respecting dog would do.

He tore the cat to pieces, inciting the wrath of the human master. Fido told Lady to come with him if she wanted to live. She decided that Fido was far too cold-hearted a dog to live with and stayed behind to take care of her pups.

But that was Lady’s mistake, because the human master went ballistic with his rifle and killed Lady and two other pups. He not only killed her but beat her lifeless body like, well, a dog.  Fido escaped, relieved to be away from home.

Confused? You won’t be after the next episode of Raining Cats & Dogs.”

Raining Cats & Dogs Episode 1
Raining Cats & Dogs Episode 2
Raining Cats & Dogs Episode 3
Raining Cats & Dogs Episode 4
Raining Cats & Dogs Episode 5
Raining Cats & Dogs Episode 6
Raining Cats & Dogs Episode 7
Raining Cats & Dogs Episode 8
Raining Cats & Dogs Episode 9
Raining Cats & Dogs Episode 10
Raining Cats & Dogs Episode 11

The second home Fido almost called his own was a house of indecency. He arrived at the shack, barely in one piece and decomposing quickly, and almost gagged at the smells coming from within the home. The house stank of dead human and dead cat. However, a few dogs had gathered around the big birch tree were covered over a crumbling fence, a giant metallic rock and a few old dog houses.

Fido stumbled upon the scene to find a most curious site: a group of drunken fools howling at the moon and licking each other’s unmentionables. Fido approached the merry males in hostility but met up with wide-eyed fascination.

“Who owns this place?”

“What’s that?” asked Spot, a Dalmatian-turned-mutt after one too many incestuous couplings. “Who owns this place? Why, Sir Mikhail does. Haven’t you heard? He is the most glorious among all canine beings. He crossed over, you know.”

“What?”

“Yes,” added Buck, a stupefied Doberman Pincher who was vomiting up gin.

“Sir Mikhail, the one human brave enough to crossover between the species and impregnate a bitch.”

Fido scowled while the other dogs cackled with laughter.

Runt, a scraggly looking Rottweiler who stank of beer, joined in the fun. “My, the sex was bliss but the mutant baby was an abomination. It was a half-man, half-dog aberration. He had four arms and an enormous tail. His eyes and forehead was that of a man but his snout longer than my own.”

Buck finished the harrowing tale. “What was most peculiar about the mutant pup was that it had an enormous selection of teats. It would wake every morning vandalized. Of course, since that mutant pup gave forth vodka instead of milk, you can’t blame those strays.”

“Why I heard even a few pussies joined in on the fun,” Spot interjected.

“You all shut your filthy mouths!” Fido barked.

“Easy, big man,” Spot replied in apology. “We’re just joshing you. Would you like to see Sir Mikhail?”

“He’s right here behind the fence. Just beware though, he’s lost all human sanity and is beginning to eat, sleep and shit like one of us.”

Fido seemed alarmed and almost frightened until he took first sight of the glorious Sir Mikhail: nothing but a drunken Chihuahua-German Shepherd mix, unmanly to be sure, but nothing worth awe or trepidation.

“Behold, I am Sir Mikhail! Bring me the bitches!” the inebriated dog sang as the others tittered away.

“You’re all drunken fools!”

Buck didn’t argue that notion but intended on challenging Fido’s resolve. “Why are you so glum, O great wanderer? Why not dismiss your mighty heirs and join us for a drink?”

“And when we say drink,” Spot added, “We mean the Master’s own glorious piss.”

“A small creek full of beer, sherry, liquor and old wine. The best things in life are mixed, you know,” Sir Mikhail winked.

“You would know, you inbred little bastard,” Spot barked.

“Come on. Let’s give our strange and cantankerous new friend a bath. He must be exhausted.”

The foursome of mutts, with the exception of Runt who had no pride, guided Fido over to the creek and encouraged him to lick his emotional wounds away. Fido hesitated but ultimately obliged and nearly drank himself to death over the next two days. There was no order amongst mixed breed outcasts. It was a first-come-first-served basis. Whoever was thirstiest got to sample the new broken liquor bottle. Whoever was hungriest got the full stomach of the calf or pig. The latecomers got to lick and chew the feet and face. Not very appetizing but the creek of alcohol made for an effective distraction.

Fido never truly made friends with the quarrelsome quartet, but did enjoy drinking liquor, a vice almost as satisfying as humping a stray bitch. Fido’s stormy disposition helped endear him to his drinking acquaintances. Whenever he would swear or call someone by a disparaging remark, the group would snicker and accuse Fido of sexual repression. Sir Mikhail, the most amoral of the bunch, would frequently offer his own bum as the solution to Fido’s yearning dilemma. Fido would bark in fury and wander away in dramatic fashion, but never physically attacked any of the other intoxicated fools. Perhaps on some level he respected them, if not for their unruly behavior then for their tragic plight of being unwanted vagabonds, a plight that reflected his own lost way. If not for empathy, then perhaps he respected them, if nothing else, for their wondrous creek of liquor.

Fido’s next temptation came about three months later, just as he was learning a pattern, or at least something close to a feeling of belonging. Her name was Gunda and she was full-breed poodle that had fallen on hard times.

Buck said that her former master was killed by one of those flying rocks near the highway and that she had been homeless ever since. She never quite took to the life of being a wanderer, even if it was the very definition of her life so far. She would find a new master every few months but would quickly be evicted for destroying furniture, attacking cats and pooping where she ought not poop. Gunda was never housebroken, as her former master loved her too much and spoiled her beyond all comprehension. Spot said he heard the former master even wiped Gunda’s ass clean every time she went.

Gunda would show up under the birch tree every few months, shivering cold and streaming down tears. Her whines would always be welcome by the quartet and she would be treated to a comfortable grassy hill and an endless creak of spiked solace. The quarter didn’t pamper her but treated as one of their own, an outcast for sure, but a foolish bitch too proud to admit what she was. The group didn’t ask for payment in return but extracted gain by way of mocking her relentlessly. Spot would sexually harass her at every turn and accuse her of hiding their cross-bred puppies. Buck would poke fun at her incontinence problem, suggesting that even if she ran away the group could still find her by her shitprints. Runt never made any personal attacks but couldn’t help but point out the absurdity of her lifestyle; always disloyal, abandoning the group for greener pastures and coming back with open arms expecting the same loyalty that she dismissed. Even Sir Mikhail couldn’t help but poke fun at her and chose the most obvious soft spot: Gunda was a tramp. She let every strange new dog mount her within minutes after the first glance took place.

Even Sir Mikhail, bizarrely enough. In fact, all four members had mounted her fabulously in retrocopulation at least a dozen times over the years. Because of Sir Mikhail’s diminutive size, he had to actually stand on Runt’s back while he humped Gunda. Runt didn’t seem to mind, as he was characteristically drunk and had already shagged Gunda earlier in the day.

Of course, Fido didn’t know all of this the first time he doggy-styled the new lady in town. When he discovered her reprehensible past he lashed out at his drunken comrades and proceeded to bite Gunda across the snout, chasing her away. His drinking circle didn’t think much of the incident either way, not particularly blaming Fido for his temper nor believing Gunda was contemptible beyond the average mutt slut. Gunda left Birch Tree for only a day before coming back, covered in regretful snot, ready to make amends with the dog that supposedly loved her.

“Fido, my mate,” Sir Mikhail said. “Gunda has come back. She’s near the creek and wishes to speak with you. There is no extra tail between her legs at the moment. Maybe that means she loves you?”

Fido casually walked over to flowing creek and beheld the wretched dog begging for forgiveness. She apologized for her weakness, admitting that in her time of loneliness she was in heat for any strong alpha that would keep her. Fido seemed unsatisfied with the explanation and unwilling to mate with a tainted body that once knew Sir Mikhail’s minuscule member. Gunda, her white fur tumbling clumsily over her shaky face, wasn’t the smartest of dogs but did know how to appease a spurned alpha male.

“They may have loved me, but I never loved them. I never had puppies with any of them.”

“Spot says otherwise,” Fido said sourly.

“Spot says the same of every dog he ever meets! Look at my fragile slit and teats and tell me if I have given birth.”

True to her word, her parts were unspoiled and firm. This poodle had never had puppies but wanted them dearly with the strongest dog she had ever known. Fido resented the notion of having puppies with other breeds. He knew nothing if not his pure-bred heritage. Fathering half breeds of collies and poodles was unbecoming of his royal reputation. If Fido had one scrap of pride more than he had lust, he would have resisted this all-loving tramp. He contemplated these deep thoughts as he withdrew from the gorged mess of Gunda’s delicates.

Seventy-two days later, Gunda gave birth to three puppies, one of which died in the womb. Gunda was needy enough to love Fido above all else in her life, for once, trusting the strong paw of her own species over that of humankind. However, Fido viewed the cross-breed pups as something unnatural and disgusting. He rarely spent time with his own children, choosing to hunt for unusually long times and coming back to the creek to drink with the old quartet. Gunda resisted scolding him because she figured it was right to dominate the family however he see fit. She wanted her pups to grow up strong like him, fearing nothing, and feeling entitled to everything.

Fido’s hang over was just about to wear off when Sir Mikhail the most contemptible of canine creatures carried on and crooned, “You done drinking for the night?”

“What is it to you?”

“You have a tramp and pups now, Old Fido the Brave. The drinking life is for us wolves. Or are you going to abandon your family?”

“Family? I don’t own them just as they don’t own me.”

“Easy, big fellow. Not implying what you should or shouldn’t be doing. All I know is my father, the smallest thing you ever seen, had a true heart in him.” Sir Mikhail became teary eyed as he related the story. “He’d get beaten up now and then but he’d never stopped barking at intruders. He made it a point to always tuck in us lads who were bigger than he was. When he lay down for the final time, I asked myself ‘What kind of a disappointment had I been, drinking my life away and eating lost sheep?’”

Fido grunted in response.

“I may be just an old drunk dog but that doesn’t mean I lack a point. Point is, my father was a giant in soul. But I still turned out to be nothing a beer pisser. How do you think your pups will turn out with you hating them the rest of their life?”

Fido said nothing but eyed the small creature in terror. Buck approached cautiously, probably assuming what the conversation was about, as the dogs had gossiped about Fido and Gunda earlier in the day. “Fido, shouldn’t you be at home licking someone goodnight? Some things are sweeter than old sherry.”

“I am not home!” Fido howled in pain, the loudest proclamation they ever heard from him. Fido began aggressively pacing and leering at the others. “I am not a domestic pet. I cannot be tamed or controlled by anybody. Least of all a tramp. My teeth still burrow and my bite still kills. I will never have a home!”

Fido paused and looked over the astonished faces of his comrades. He barked in rage, “I will make sure that I am never welcomed in any home. I will kill any human that tries to guide me. I will maim any bitch that invades my territory. I will chew the face of any pup that touches me with his paw.”

Fido growled at Sir Mikhail, the most passionate advocate of family he had ever met. “Family is for the weak. Domestication is the only sin. Shame on you Mikhail. Shame on your father for raising you to be a drunk.”

Sir Mikhail listened in heartbreak.

“A home is a deception. It is for weak, stupid dogs. You cannot stifle the wild nature. So you, go and stay safe in your home. Run to your children and your liquor. I fear nothing. I have no home.”

It was the last statement Fido ever spoke to his drinking comrades, and a statement that was apparently not worth saying to the mother of his pups. Gunda never welcomed Fido home again, and had nothing to say of him to her pups. She knew not where he was, nor why he left. All she knew is that he had been taken away by the wild, the same voice that often called to her but that she never had the courage to answer.

Fido never opposed the idea of copulation, as most dogs felt shagging shaggy dogs to be their right and duty. However, Fido ensured that he never fathered another pup and often damaged the precious parts of his tramps by withdrawing his large bulb out before ejaculating. Whenever someone started to treat him as an alpha he barked until he was perceived as a threat. Whenever a tramp would start to open her heart rather than arch her back and prepare for a good rumping, he would leave his bed the very next morning and journey as Far East as he could see the sun.

Potter County was huge, however and even the most experienced travelers found themselves repeating the same scenery after a few days. Eventually dogs would circle around the Potter Country line, and stall at the massive highways with all those “flying rocks” that seemed to kill more dogs than starvation ever did. Only a handful of dogs ever made it into the northern state; the rest either settled in Texas or died an honorable death attempting to crossover.

After realizing the ugly truth, Gunda and the quartet of merry dogs never spoke Fido’s name again. The quartet managed to help Gunda back on her paws in the aftermath of Fido’s disappearance. However, everyone agreed that staying together and forming a pseudo-family would never work, and would certainly not be in the best interest of Fido’s two pups. Those two cream-colored runts inherited all of their father’s spirit but only their mother’s size. Gunda and the quartet occasionally spoke throughout the years, though never of Fido, and eventually lost touch with one another.

It would be many years until any of them heard Fido’s name again. The fact that he died dishonorably proved to be the most shocking of revelations and confounded all those who once knew of his bestial legacy.

Next week, the serialization of Raining Cats and Dogs will continue.  Yes, there will be a detective bloodhound. Raining Cats and Dogs is a registered copyright (R) 2011 of The Late Mitchell Warren. A downloadable eBook will be available following the conclusion. Raining Cats and Dogs is a dog murder mystery very loosely based on The Brothers Karamazov and in the style of Animal Farm. But it’s done with an all dog-cast. No animals were harmed in the making of this dog soap opera. This story is not PETA-approved.

Raining Cats & Dogs Episode 1
Raining Cats & Dogs Episode 2
Raining Cats & Dogs Episode 3
Raining Cats & Dogs Episode 4
Raining Cats & Dogs Episode 5
Raining Cats & Dogs Episode 6
Raining Cats & Dogs Episode 7
Raining Cats & Dogs Episode 8
Raining Cats & Dogs Episode 9
Raining Cats & Dogs Episode 10
Raining Cats & Dogs Episode 11