Three years since that day.
You still thought about it, from time to time. At first it was whenever you closed your eyes. Then just when you got up in the morning. Then in places like this. The vet office where you’d woken up all that time ago.
The face looking down at you was unfamiliar at first. An old human with mysterious eyes. Now, those eyes looked down at you again, the warm, familiar eyes.
You called him daddeh at first, but he didn’t like the name much. He insisted you use his real name.
“Billy?” The receptionist said.
He rose, and you with him. You followed him down the hall on your leash. You both knew you didn’t need it, but the office didn’t like untethered fluffies running around, and it was better than a crate. You’d seen enough of those.
“He’s always so well behaved.” Lucy the Vet said as you approached her room.
Billy looked down at you as she closed the door behind him. “Well, he’s been through enough trouble for one life.”
“That’s the truth,” Lucy muttered, picking you up and placing you on the table.
She unclipped the leash from your collar. The metal tag around your neck shined with the lettering ”DREAM”.
“To be honest,” Lucy continued. “I thought he was dead when you first brought him in.”
“I about did too,” Billy responded. “Shoulda’ seen him when he came running down the road. One eye flopping about and still charging. Like he was running from a demon.”
You could say that.
“Was a miracle, that eye.” She patted your head above your eye, the one that had been knocked out of your head all that time ago.
“What can I say, he’s a lucky guy.” Billy chuckled.
You decided to lay yourself down on the table while Lucy examined your face. If she needed access to your lower quarters, she knew to just lift you up.
“I wouldn’t call it all luck.” She traced the faded scar going from the corner of your mouth. “He’s a survivor.”
“Hm.” Billy stroked his beard.
“You have no idea how many ferals come through my office, usually in better or worse shape. Sometimes they’re terrified, sometimes aggressive. But you can always see it in their eyes…” She peered into yours, her face slightly blurry, but still clear at the same time. That one eye had never been able to see perfectly since that day.
“…You can tell when they’ve been broken by the world. Seen things they shouldn’t have seen. Felt things that would drive some people insane…”
“Mm…” Billy looked off for a minute. “So… he any better or worse than last time?”
“He’s getting older,” She answered. “If that’s what you’re asking.”
“Mhmm…” Billy continued looking off at nothing.
“But he won’t drop dead anytime soon. His body is working perfectly. I think the only real damage he can’t heal is mental.”
“Ah,” Billy sighed. “That stuff really don’t go away, does it?”
“Just another thing our two races have in common,” She moved a light in front of your eyes. You followed it. “Pupil still not closing all the way…” she muttered. “His behavior’s been the same?”
“Yeah,” Billy said. “Been taking him to the park some more lately. Grandchildren haven’t been visiting as much to play with him, so I figured he could use some outside time. Other than that, hasn’t changed much since I brought him in. Wanders around the house, watches TV with me, stares into space a lot. Doesn’t have much to say to me or anyone else.”
“Well…” She propped you up, feeling your belly and legs. “I think after all that Dream here has been through, some calm and quiet is all he needs.”
“Wike quiet,” you said. “Nu head huwties.”
