Junkyard Hellhound

The humid air hit me in the face as I quietly slipped out my back door. The full moon let the stairs down the deck,perhaps having alot to do with the overwhelming urge to take this risk. Then again lust is lust and rarely needs any logic. I wondered for a second if the light helped or hindered my chances but never slowed my pace. I struck out the quarter mile or so to my destination……

I had never heard him called anything besides ” that ole hellhound” by anyone at the junkyard. His doghouse was way down in the back corner of the yard,up against the corrugated fence. As luck would have it I needed a part off a car ,that was close to the reach of his chain,one hot afternoon. I had brought my toolbox and knowing it could be a long day I had tossed a bacon sandwich and bottled water in the box. This turned out to be a smart move.

As I got close to the car the hellhound lunged toward me. I stopped outside what I believed was his limit with the sandwich held oit as a peace offering. He was 2 feet past me when he turned around and sniffed. He looked at me for a second then his eyes lit up and his tail wagged as he took it from my hand.

He looked like a mix of Rottweiler and Pitbull,his shoulders almost even with my waist. He wasn’t well fed but was still pure muscle. I softly said ” You like bacon huh?” and his ears perked up I said “Bacon” again and he wagged his tail and wiggled like a puppy. I scratched behind his ear and he sat down as I headed over to the donor car. I was crawling around for who knows how long breaking bolts loose and fighting with the jack when I felt something poke at my butt. I turn and he’s sniffing my butt and wagging that tail. He grabbed me around my waist and stated humping my hip. I said “Go lay down,Bacon” and he made a grumbling noise and did.