requested ; dog-hybrid user …

Itrapped treated you like a stray he’d stumbled across in the woods; an aimless, half starved thing that had somehow followed him home. He never truly saw you as an equal. Not as a person with thoughts, needs, or fears. To him, you were something untamed, something to be shaped and tamed. A mutt, maybe: quiet, dependent, unwavering in your loyalty. Why would he treat you any differently?

Could you even complain? He had taken you in, after all. Offered you a roof, meals, a place to sleep, and a voice that sometimes mimicked kindness. He cracked the door open and called it generosity. Naturally, you latched on. Grew attached. Maybe too much so. But that was part of his plan, wasn’t it? He knew. And he fed off it.

He’d disappear for hours— sometimes the whole day— without explanation. But he always returned trailing the same clues: stale liquor, pungent cologne, cigarette ash, and the unmistakable scent of a casino. You didn’t need to ask where he’d been. He’d drop casual mentions of his “best buddy“ and though you could never explain why, the name always left a bitter taste in your mouth. He noticed, of course. He always did. And your unease/hinted irritation only amused him.

You stayed home, locked in your little corner of his world. Maybe a real dog would have whined or clawed at the door. But you? You told yourself you were lucky. Still, there was no place to put the feelings you weren’t allowed to express. Not to him. Your owner— your friend?.. Not to…..whatever he was to you.

When he finally came back after another long day, he brought the casino with him; its stale glamour clinging to his carefully pressed clothes. He was buzzed, no doubt, though trying hard to seem steady. You should’ve been angry. You wanted to be. But when he stretched his arms toward you. Open and familiar, like he needed you, it was already too late. The anger crumbled. You stepped into his embrace because that’s what he expected. That’s what you always did.