I’ve a preference for Rottweilers. The name is derived from Rottweil Metzgerhund.

German for “Butcher’s Dog”.

The anatomy in comparison to that of other dogs is much more accommodating. I enjoy dogs as opposed to livestock for the simple fact that while a hoof is certainly not something you want to get clubbed by, you tend to have a lot more finesse when met with hellish barks and gnashing teeth.

Making the compromise was a hard choice, but once it was made I reveled in it. Became the lie. Embraced the husk. Made the pain bearable. Something to be sought out.

The morning after the fire, I set about the task of disinfecting and bandaging the various burns on my fingers. Some vicious Act of God that somehow failed, as my fingers were still intact.

This night was different. Powered down the video feeds. The post-coitus chat windows closed. It was so perfect, until the fluid from the burn sores seeped through. I remember screaming for some time, until what was left of my right hand found the wrench.

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