Private Growler's Letter

A Microfiction

Photo by Jonathan Castañeda via Unsplash

Dogust 2, 2024

Attn: Colonel Floppy “Long Ears” McSniffles.

418 Waggin Street

New Yorkie, NY 10017

Colonel,

I regret to inform you that I've failed my 347th escape attempt. After this latest defeat, I've come to believe the initial reports of human simplicity provided by the Central Canine-telligence Agency are either inaccurate or incomplete. It seems improbable, I know, but allow me to elaborate:

As I disclosed in the previous letter, my captors planned to bring me to one of their secret laboratories, run by masked humanoid creatures in white furless skins they call vets. A nasty place not even fit for cats, where they perform vile experiments and purportedly collect jars of male genitalia. Yesterday, while pretending to indulge in behind-the-ear scratches and belly rubs, I learned they would transport me via "subway" and subsequently began planning my daring escape.

This subway fortress of theirs is quite fascinating. Upon arrival, my nose was nearly overwhelmed by the various scents of warm beef, salt, cheese, and human sweat. Humans mill about by the hundreds and huddle closely together like Buffalo, perhaps for warmth since their fur is often thin. Some of them perform noisy tricks for strange paper treats. I’ve little doubt that they communicate through scent like we do, because I detected strong odors of their urine on several walls.

We reached a double-sided platform where a giant metal monster waited, devouring dozens of humans and spitting out others before rushing off, presumably to hunt for more. I’m not ashamed to admit I was terrified. I tried warning them against such a horrifying creature, but they seemed determined to sacrifice themselves, so I decided to enact my plan.

While they were distracted, I yanked on the twisted fibrous restraint they had wrapped around my neck. There was a moment when my air was cut off, and then I was free, dashing amongst the other human cattle and looking for the surest path out. Some tried snatching at the restraint’s loop, but I was too quick for them. My devious captors did manage to come within a paw’s length of recapturing me, but here I used a clever trick to get away.

I'd been sure to beg for scraps of bacon they ate for breakfast earlier that morning. It’s a delicious laxative that gives me the runs, and I squirted some on the floor behind me right as they reached for the restraint. They slipped on the mess and fell, and I used this opportunity to leap over the gap spanning the two platforms just as another giant monster was slowing for its feast.

You’d have been proud of me, Colonel, if only I hadn’t stopped to catch my breath! Another human snatched my restraint and kept me under guard until my captors could regain custody of me.

I'm already planning the next attempt, but I'd appreciate it if you included some getaway advice in your response. As ever, I remain loyal to the Paws.

Regards,

Private Anya Growler