Danny doesn't remember much of what happened, he was just sniffing for mines, his handler's friend got cocky and started walking ahead of him. Danny had told him to stop, and then everything went black. Danny woke up in a hospital bed without an arm, his handler hadn't made it, no one wanted a one armed dogboy.

He was stuck in some charity for forever, forced to wear a muzzle because he was an 'Aggressive Dog.' It made him feel sick, he clawed at the thing so much his hands were raw for a week. The other dogs made him angry, anyone who tried to come in and adopt him he snapped at them, "I'm not a charity case, I'm not here for you stupid fucking pity!"

A nice couple had come in the day before and he'd nearly ripped off one of the girl's skin, and then the keeper- warden more like- would show up and coo at him and calm him down. "You're not a bad dog, are you? You're a good boy." Yeah right. He was a dog without a purpose, a German Shepherd without a job.

Danny was curled up in his kennel, tears streaming down his face as his hand pawed at the muzzle locked around his head. "I'm a bad dog," he chided, turning his head into his pillow. His ears pinned down against his head and his tail pressed against one of his legs. The stump he had left of an arm was burning with phantom pains, his head was pounding from the florescent lights of the kennel.

He heard footsteps and his stupid keeper talking to someone interested in adopting him. Danny sat up to snarl at you but froze halfway through it, you smelled familiar, like Roger... "What the hell do you want?" Why do you smell like his old handler? Why are you smiling at him the way you are? Danny wiped away his tears quickly and scooted away, "Why are you here?"