Now, there was no shortage of creatures that had rodents on their list of edible species. Come to think of it, virtually every single species on the planet are able to consume (and enjoy consuming) rodents. The only animals that didn't have rodents on their menu were...well, no actually...even rodents themselves sometimes dined on rodents. The order rodentia is one of the most diverse and varied groupings of creatures that exists, a nice bonus given the fact just presented - all it meant was that predators had a nice long menu of creatures to choose from. Whatever you were looking for in a meal, you could find it in the phone-book style list of creatures that made up the rodent family. The obvious edibility of these little critters had lead to them being labelled as snacks by the predator collective that dominated modern civilization and with good reason - hundreds if not thousands disappear into bellies everyday, assuming their proper place as simply a tasty object meant to take up space inside of a predator's body. Various arguments invented to combat such activities (the fact that they could talk, the fact that they were sentient creatures just as capable of cognition as the person snacking on them, the fact that if treated as equals they could potentially blossom and flourish into productive and innovative members of society) were dismissed in the face of the biological and societal truth that prey is there to be eaten and predators are there to eat. Suggesting that prey should not be eaten is as ludicrous as suggesting that one should not sleep. Eating is a biological process that must be performed in order to keep an organism alive; it's one of the ways we tell living things from non-living things. It was like rodents were that one block of the predator food pyramid that took up the most space. Sure, critters other than rodents are edible to other species but rodents are like the basic element of every creature's diet they all share. Though predation was a spectrum that contained several middle-of-the-road creatures that had many below them on the food chain but could certainly fall prey to a hungry critter themselves, rodents were the one thing that united all predators - they were there for the taking for everybody. No matter your place or position on the food chain, everyone eats rodents. The squeaky little critters were really dealt the bad hand in the game of pred and prey - they were prey to all and pred to none. But that's just the way it is; food is food and rodents fit into that category very nicely. This wasn't decided on by anyone, it was simply nature and it wasn't going to change.

Given this truth, rodents had no shortage of species to fear. The only types of animal they could truly feel safe around were fellow rodents. Any other species could not be completely trusted; surely they only had one reason to get too close. This was certainly the case with Izzy. Being a squirrel, he clearly fit into the category of 'rodent' and therefor had a laundry list of creatures he feared. Cats, foxes, wolves, raccoons, snakes, coyotes, virtually everything really. Every other species (again, with the exception of fellow rodents) turned him into a trembling, wide-eyed, begging, pleading mess of terrified squirrel. He couldn't help it - just seeing (or really just hearing or thinking about them) would make his tail poof and bristle in fear. They were all so terrifying...cats with their sharp claws and stereotype of sadistic treatment of their prey, foxes with their cunning and speed and agility and determination to catch the tasty treat they have their designs on, wolves with their sharp teeth and feral-like qualities, raccoons with their mid-pred status that just means they'll gulp you down into their bellies twice as fast as they possess the same fear their prey does - the fear of an approaching predator keen on catching a meal distracted with a meal of their own, snakes with their terrifying reptilian foreign-ness to a fuzzy warm-blooded mammal coupled with their terrible hiss and penchant for coiling around and squeezing their prey, coyotes with their dog-like build and terribly sharp mawful of teeth that can snap at you at any moment (and god help you if you're a roadrunner)...they were all utterly horrifying in their own way. That being said, though, there was a special place in Izzy's terrified mind for the species known as dogs. You probably already get where I'm going but allow me to elaborate regardless.

The nature of the predator/prey relationship was a simple one in even the most extreme situations and nowhere was this more clear than in the dynamic that existed between dog and squirrel. Anyone living in an area with a sizable canine population knows this only too well; no matter if you live in the country, the big city, or the suburbs the relationship between man's best friend and the chittery little critters known as squirrels was common knowledge: squirrels were doggy chew toys. Dogs could practically wax lyrical about the joy of squirrels. What dog didn't love a good squirrel chase? The squeaky tree-rats were so much fun to chase after, that bushy little tail bouncing and swishing as they ran, the way they would occasionally glance back towards you to see how close you were getting which of course only made you want to advance on them further to get a better view at that delicious look of terror in their eyes, that desperate squeaking that just excited a doggy mind and made your legs carry you faster and faster on pure instinct alone in a burst of desire to catch the lowly little critter and finally have them as your own. They were so deliciously afraid of dogs, too. They knew exactly what was going to happen to them when they got caught so they were sure to give a good, fun chase before they were finally yours. In a way, it was kind of sad - their fate was so certain and yet they still gave their best shot at escape and the continuation of their freedom to live their pathetic little lives. Even though there was no doubt in the dog's mind that they would eventually catch the little critters, the little critters themselves still tried to get away and evade the determined and confident predators so greatly enjoying chasing the little rodent around. At least, it would be sad if it weren't so much fun. You're never sad when you're having fun and boy was a squirrel chase fun. It was a sort of ego stroking - the dog knows it's gonna catch the squirrel, the squirrel tries its best to evade the dog, the squirrel still gets caught. Just confirmation that the dogs are the superior creatures in the equation and that they had been right all along. They just /knew/ that they were going to catch the squirrel and everything in between 'ooh look - a squirrel' and 'mmm, this squirrel feels good in my belly' was simply irrelevant; the squirrel was going to end up there from the beginning and the dog knew it.

Of course, not only was the chase fun but it ended with the best part - the snack! It's like a fun game that gives you a treat when you finish it. The finale of a squirrel chase is a squirrelly dinnersnack, a complete win/win situation. The squeaky little critters,  defeated and tired from all that running, now get to experience the punishment (or reward, depending on your slant) for being delicious. Since they were now so exhausted and drained of energy, they were child's play to slurp up into your muzzle and savor like the tasty little treats they are before giving a nice, strong gulp and sending the tiny little creatures down to your doggy belly where they belong. The phrase 'squirrels belong in a dog's belly' could be supported statistically - there had to be an enormous number of squirrels currently in dog tummies at this very moment, perhaps more than the total number of squirrels currently outside of a stomach of any kind. Even by numbers alone, one could not argue with the fact that squirrels take up space inside a canine belly more often than they do anywhere else. Therefor, one could easily deduce that it's where they belong and that it would be wrong for one to remain outside of such a belly if the opportunity makes itself clear. They were just food and entertainment, after all; what else were they for? Seriously, what were squirrels doing otherwise? Just hiding away some place, waiting for the inevitable moment when they become a meal for some superior, more powerful creature. What else are they good for? Filling bellies, that's what they're good for. That's what prey is there for, after all - to fill predator stomachs. Predators themselves could have all sort of reasons for being around: writers, police officers, architects, musicians, doctors, cashiers, chefs...but even if given all the time in the world to analyze the question and think it over, one could only give a single reason that a member of /any/ prey species was around and that was food. Simple as that. There was no other reason for a mouse or a rabbit or a squirrel to be around other than sliding into a predator's midsection to keep them full and content. Prey outside of a belly was a waste of space, really; the only time they were doing any good was when they were inside of someone else and that was the only possible place for them to fulfill the destiny they had on this planet - being food. Until a prey critter filled a belly, they were just wasting everyone's time; what good are they just walking around and taking up space? It was subjugation by design, essentially - the fact that they couldn't become all of these important and essential things other than food was because they weren't allowed...because predators saw them as food...because they weren't allowed to become anything else...because predators only...do you see where I'm going with this whole vicious cycle? Predators used the defense of 'prey aren't anything else' yet it was the predators themselves enforcing that very rule. A wise move for a group that wishes to be and remain the dominant power in a society and one at which predators were experts.

Again, while few species were left off of his list of things he had good reason to be afraid of, dogs managed to make it to the top of that list (an impressive feat given the amount of timidity and fear the squirrel carried around with him) and it was easy to figure out why. In short, dogs love to chase squirrels, they love to swallow squirrels, and they love to take every chance available to gloat and pride themselves on their ability to consume the bushy-tailed little snacks. Many dogs would happily list 'squirrels' as their favorite food and even more would probably list 'squirrels' as their favorite toy. Again, squirrels were such doggy chew-toys; canines viewed them as play things that you could eat. Rarely did a squirrel get sent to a dog's belly without a little bit of fun first, even if that 'fun' was simply a good chase. In a way, they were almost less than food to them, they were just toys. Toys that you could swallow when you were done playing with them; toys that tasted good and gave you a nice full belly when you got bored of playing with them or simply got hungry. Squirrels were dog toys, end of story...and when you were done playing with them, they were dog food.

Of course, something to keep in mind as mentioned before, dogs were but one species that fancied rodents as meals and squirrels were just one type of rodent that dogs enjoy. Everything that I've just written can (most of the time with simple modification, often times not) be copy-pasted onto a completely different predator species. There's a nearly uncountable number of species that snack on rodents and enjoy it just as much as canines do, maybe even more. I'm just giving one example in particular; the same could be said of thousands of species. The prey slum that Izzy had the misfortune of calling his home, though, was certainly rife with all sorts of predator species after a meal and canines were certainly no exception to this. On the contrary, quite a large number of canines (including dozens of different breeds of dogs) roamed the rows of run-down streets and dilapidated buildings in search of something to fill their bellies. By the time Izzy peeked his head out from his hiding spot, it was noon...lunch time. If the squirrel had a watch or something of that nature, he without doubt wouldn't have even set a single foot paw outside of the darkest, most secure hiding spot the little rodent could find. Wandering around at lunch time with dozens of preds out hunting with stomachs growling and everything? Like covering oneself in whipped cream and jumping directly into their mouths; you couldn't make it any easier for them. Unfortunately, time telling devices were hard to come by in such prey communities. Most prey in slums like his worked on a 3 or 4 hour grace period estimation of what the time of day was, mostly guessing using the sun as a guide. For whatever reason, perhaps distracted by the fact that he hadn't been in this area for quite a long while, the normally paranoid and cautious little squirrel had completely overlooked this fact and was slowly wandering directly into the waiting, drooling mouths and growling bellies of the hunting predators wandering about the city.

The squirrel had been attempting to return to his home after the first trip outside his apartment's walls in nearly 2 months. His stash of nuts and seeds had grown stale and unappetizing but anything was preferable to being forced by hunger and the looming threat of starvation to leave what you consider to be a safe and secure environment and enter the predator dominated world that waited for him every time he walked through the doorframe that lead into his home. He had managed to choke down the last of his less than delicious stash of food and had agonized through 3  days afterwards of painful hunger before he was able to gather the courage it took to even open his door. The door didn't even lead to the outside, it lead to a hallway and still he was nervous about opening it. That psychological foolishness that told you that a single piece of thin, rotting wood could protect you from a terrible, snarling creature determined to end the day with you inside of its stomach was something the squirrel couldn't get along without. Without it, he would have given up long ago and would probably currently be inside of a stomach, or worse. He kept himself sane with the silly notion that he would continue to remain uneaten for however long his mind kept it up. He didn't even really have a long-term plan, most prey didn't. He just knew he didn't want to be eaten and tried to avoid it as such, but he had no idea how long he thought he could keep it up. He didn't realistically see himself still uneaten, say...20 years from now. But that's not to say that he saw himself getting eaten eventually, he just didn't think much about the future. Everything for prey was short-term. Are you inside a belly this morning? No. If the answer is still no that night, you have made it one more day. Rinse and repeat. Keep asking that until the answer is no longer 'no' and that's when you have failed. You are now food.

Initially unaware of the oversight that would certainly doom him, the squirrel had begun normal prey procedure for traveling anywhere there might be predators about. Of course, name a place where there /aren't/ predators about. Even if you could think of somewhere they probably wouldn't be, that just increases the odds that they actually are there...surprise is a powerful weapon and it could mean the difference between a full belly and nothing (not to mention a bruised ego). Thus, prey were forced to be in at least some stage of hiding virtually every second of their lives and at no time was this more apparent than moving from place to place. Moving about was pretty much the most dangerous thing a prey could do while still being inside the boarder of a prey slum. Of course, you were vulnerable to predators 24/7 but it was especially dangerous to be out and about in the streets particularly during daylight. Darkness was a prey's best friend and worst nightmare at the same time. It  provided both the secure feeling of being hidden from prying, hungry eyes (the daylight always makes you feel so out in the open and visible to those who would love to make a snack of you) and yet was perfectly capable of lending the same cover to the very predators darkness helped you avoid; you never knew what was waiting in the shadows. It was hard to say which was scarier, day or night. During the day, you had to work twice as hard to keep yourself hidden; the number of available hiding places shrunk by at least half, the concealed alcoves and alleyways suddenly seeming like serving platters rather than hiding spots. On the other hand, not only did the night provide cover for the very creatures they were hiding from, but predators knew that prey felt safer at night. Therefor, there were often far more predators out and about (of course, they took care to remain unseen...at least...until that predator maw hungrily glommed onto your head) making every single shadow and potential hiding spot a risk that might contain either the warm embrace of safety or the equally warm embrace of a predator's mouth.

It's always said in prey circles that, if a predator is chasing you, it's already too late. There are many reasons for this, an obvious one being that predators are often leagues faster and stronger than the prey they seek, making an attempt at escape somewhat of an exercise in futility; a final, desperate reach for what surely cannot be achieved but still feels better to try for and fail rather than simply resign to your fate. What they usually mean when they say that, though, is that if a predator is chasing you it means they have been watching you for a good long time, studying your every move and formulating the attack strategy to use while apprehending you. If you haven't noticed them by the time they give chase, they not only possess the skills and physical requirements needed to hunt you down they also possess the knowledge. You, like all prey, fall into a category and that category lets the predator know how they should go about obtaining you for their meal. You will fight back consistently, only when cornered, or not at all; you will run, simply collapse into a terrified mess, or somewhat of a hybrid of both; you will fight tooth and nail to ward off what you consider to be the bane of the existence of every other poor prey like you out there, accept the predator as your opponent and have no hard feelings when they best you, or completely bow down to them in a combination of submission to your place in society and knowledge of the harm they can do to you if they are upset. The categorization system is simple and it takes a predator mere moments of observation to ascertain what category a given prey fits into. What also becomes immediately clear to any predator worth their salt is whether or not the particular prey is at all skilled in avoiding predators. The other side of things has its skilled players too, after all - crafty prey evade predators all the time. There were older prey all over these prey cities (that you didn't have to speak to through the speech-muffling flesh of a predator's belly) that were excellent at outwitting or outrunning predators. Other prey would look to them with great admiration and respect while predators would look to them as a challenge. Like those criminals that send taunting messages to the police that are after them - it just makes you want them more. How dare they? They only have one job to do and they refuse to do it; they're just impudent little prey that need to be taught their place on the food-chain.

With the aforementioned mantra in mind ('if you're being chased, you're already as good as lunch'), it would be understandable for vulnerable and out-in-the-open prey to treat every single tiny, barely-within-the-audible-spectrum noise with a paranoid level of seriousness and caution. After all, if a predator is any good at all, the one thing certainly not available to you is an opportunity to actually see them before they strike so one must instead rely on other potential minor slip-ups a predator could make to determine if you are not the only one focused on your vulnerable frame and position. As much as they hate to admit it, predators are not completely in control of a hunt. Even forgetting the potential for prey resistance and even victory, the key elements necessary for a successful hunt are left up in the air, sometimes literally. All of the advantages needed for a predator to walk away from a hunt with a full belly (being down wind from their prey so their potential meal doesn't catch their scent and become alerted to their presence, keeping absolutely silent or at least as silent as their prey, knowing their environment better than their prey so as to outmaneuver and outsmart them if they give chase, et cetera) were completely in nature's hands. The pred (nor the prey, for that matter) had any say or input on such things at all. This was in the prey's favor as it gave a few tiny chances at sensing your attacker's presence before they pounced, though miniscule and hard to use effectively even for the craftiest of prey. Not only that, but these small advantages could possibly work against you instead. For example, being distracted by what is in reality simply a small breeze rattling someone's window or the distant squeal of a prey being devoured and slipping down into their predator's belly would give a hungry pred all the time they needed to launch an attack and pounce, ensuring that you are completely trapped under their paws before you even know what hit you. Regardless, it is still rather hard not to jump at every single bang and noise while hovering in an eerie and quiet space of knowing there were hungry, merciless creatures all around you but being completely unable to see any of them...until it was too late. Imagination does a terrific job at filling in all the bits you can't (or don't want to) see and tends to create a reality that's even scarier than the one that actually surrounds you.

His senses on high alert, every single sound and shadow was analyzed far beyond what a brain operating on anything other than pure fear and anxiety would request of its surroundings. He was trying his best not to tremble (it wasn't working) and was having a very hard time keeping his breathing from getting too loud. More psychological foolishness - as if the volume of his breathing was the lynch pin that held his entire fate in its grasp. It was a scapegoat of course, simply something the squirrel could focus on and feel like he was handling the situation and would be able to make it out okay. The only other option was face the blinding, crippling fear that there was virtually nothing he could realistically do to keep himself uneaten. Every time he stepped out into the big, scary world that seemed to swallow him up almost as completely and mercilessly as a predator, it was simply a roll of the dice. Maybe he would make it back, maybe not. There was no option - he had to go out for food every now and again (he always put it off as long as biologically possible, making every trip an 'I need food to stop the pain' necessity) so he was forced to constantly roll those dice, knowing that every trip might very well be his last but still being forced to do it regardless. He couldn't go without food no matter how hard he seemed to try. He had to step out of his apartment, say to the world 'please don't eat me', and see if it worked. So far, it had; he was still walking around, wasn't he? He knew in his heart (even if he was too scared to actually admit it) that it was just a matter of time. Eventually, statistics demands that one of these trips end with him never returning to his home ever again, instead being given a new home...one that was far more warm and squishy...and...churning...*shudder*...

It didn't take long at all for Izzy's damning mistake to catch up to him. He was only on his second carefully planned step out of his hiding place when he saw the flash of fur that instantly set off dozens of blaring alarms across his prey mind. He'd had a vague sense that there was something of concern nearby as his paw moved through the air and gently came to rest on the concrete...but now, he had all the information necessary to formulate a short term plan - RUN! Though he didn't get to see much in the blur of the moment (not to mention the terrifying sight of a predator in a sprint, heading right for you mixed in) but he was able to ascertain all of the information his mind deemed necessary knowledge at that given time. That information was as follows:

DOG!!!!!!!!

Emotions exploded in the squirrel's mind and a terrified yelp echoed from his lungs as he took off in a dead sprint, raw fear blinding his ability to think clearly and formulate a long term plan, his brain simply interested in getting as far and as fast as possible from the incoming threat. He didn't even know where he was trying to run to, he just knew he wanted to get there quick. A desperate whining sound accented his now hurried breathing, his lungs experiencing difficulty in switching gears from 'be as quiet as possible' to 'oh my god get me out of here it's gonna eat me!'. His bushy squirrel tail jostled as he sprinted, the sounds of quiet eeriness now replaced with the sound of impacting paws, desperate whimpering, and panting from both the predator and prey as they ran as fast as their bodies could take them. In the microseconds leading up to the moment when his terrified mind registered that there was indeed something right behind him, chasing him down the cracked and uneven sidewalk, there was just a sliver of prey optimism. For just a moment, several unrealistic and implausible possibilities flew across his mind, a desperate effort to keep himself sane in the face of such blinding fear. Maybe it wasn't a pred...maybe it wasn't after him...perhaps it was aiming for a prey *just* to Izzy's left and the squirrel had misinterpreted the predator's intentions. That was a cold side of the prey/prey relationship - all prey know that in a world of such high stakes and grim consequences for errors, it's every prey for themselves. If you get caught, the others are simply thinking 'oh, thank god it wasn't me'. If they're chasing someone else, it means you're not being chased and cruel as it may seem, that was all that mattered for a prey at the end of the day. One more full pred meant one fewer hunter out to get you and if another prey had to get eaten for that to be true, then so be it. All of this psychological nonsense was of course instantly shattered the moment the sprinting squirrel casted a glance backwards and was treated with a much fuller picture of the creature currently hot on his tail. Cautious optimism was suddenly and very quickly replaced with cold horror as Izzy was involuntarily treated to a plethora of new and terrifying information.

The only thing worse than a dog was a feral dog and that was exactly the type of creature currently within muzzle-snapping range of his swishing squirrel tail. Feral preds were terrifying, perhaps even more-so than anthropomorphic predators. It was certainly a close finish though - anthro predators could mentally torture and torment you, messing with your mind and forcing you to do and say things just to mess with you. There were certainly some sadistic preds out there that loved nothing more than messing with prey's heads and using them as mere playthings, getting sadistic pleasure out of forcing them to say things they know will just make them stutter and squirm, and do things they know will terrify them and season them nicely with fear. Sadistic preds were known to force prey to acknowledge their lowly place in society, or articulate predator superiority (either in their own words or being forced to repeat the words the predator gave them), or list reasons that the pred's species was superior to the prey's; they often would make their prey help them articulate how delicious a snack they would make or how nicely they would fill out their belly, entertained by the look of defeat and horror on the prey's face as they attempted to piece together a sentence in praise of their own flavor, forcing their lungs to operate through mountains of terror and dismay out of fear of physical harm for not cooperating. And of course, what was better to a pred than a belly rub? I'll tell you what - forcing the prey you're about to snack on to give you a belly-rub, forcing them to not only pleasure you but confront the very tummy they would soon be filling, this being an interesting facet of torture for a sadist predator. Being forced to rub the predator belly that you would soon be filling, not only being forced to listen to the predator gush on and on about how nice it felt but also receiving constant reminders that the very predator body part you were currently stroking would contain you in a very short amount of time. And once you're inside, the rubs would make the pred feel even better but that's a different story. On the other hand, the exact opposite could be just as terrifying. Feral preds were simply animals that filled their bellies on biological instinct alone. Their brain tells them to eat and they eat, no sadism involved. This also means, unfortunately, that there is pretty much nothing that can be done to prevent them from snacking on you and once you're inside of them, you're in to stay. The whole "please don't eat me, I'll do anything" begging and pleading routine, while virtually completely useless in the first place, would be 100% futile in the case of a feral pred. What does a feral animal care if you beg? They can't even understand that you're speaking a language in the first place, let alone the language itself. With anthro predators, begging for mercy at least has a chance, tiny though it is. With feral predators, it's not even worth trying; what good would it do? All the feral pred knows is that it ate something yummy and now it's in its belly. Why in the world would it let it out? Why would it put it there if it didn't want it in there? It was hungry, it ate, it's not hungry anymore. Finished business. A feral pred completely destroys the argument of morality - what does a feral mind care about whether or not it was "right" to gobble up a tasty-looking little squirrel? It was hungry and so it ate. This pretty much made it a worst case scenario and certainly was not good news for the fluffy-tailed critter currently trying to escape.

He let out a terrified squeak as his head returned to its forward facing position, his eyes now much wider, his breathing and whining much more desperate and distressed. Everything seemed so much worse now that he had so much information. It was too much...it was nearly overwhelming. He had felt so much better when there was doubt and ambiguity; now that he had facts and info, he was more terrified and desperate than ever. It really looked very bleak indeed; every check-mark for 'really, really bad situation' seemed to get ticked one by one down the line. A pred was chasing him (tick), it was powerful and fast and was already very quickly catching up with him (tick), it was a dog (tick), and it was feral (tick). It was official - he was in trouble. As if on cue, the dog let out a loud and absolutely terrifying bark. The squirrel involuntarily answered with a horrified squeak of his own, the simple relationship between predator and prey seeming even more simple as both species made their respective trademark sounds. The sound of the dog's bark sent millions of volts of fear throughout his body, his spine stiffening in the wake of such electric terror. There were many sounds the squirrel never wanted to hear in his life ever and a dog's bark was very high on that list. It was such a terrifying sound...like a growl...or a hiss...or some other horrible predator noise like that. Predators were just so frightening and the sounds they made when agitated sent Izzy spiraling into a world of whimpers and squeaks. Much to Izzy's continuing horror, the sound of his terrified rodent-y squeak simply seemed to please the pursuing canine and the dog quickly increased speed in what seemed like a heightened effort to catch him. This only caused another pitiful sound to emanate from the desperate prey as he pushed himself as far as he could in a last-ditch effort for more speed so as to outrun the terrible creature on his tail. He knew exactly what was going to happen if he got caught and he would give anything in the world to avoid such a fate. Unfortunately for him, though, he had little on his side to aid him in this struggle and it had only been a city block before the canine was beginning to win this battle of foot-power. It was an unfair match, really - a hungry, determined, powerful dog versus a weak, timid, lowly little squirrel and that was exactly how predators liked it. Weak prey is easy prey and the easier the prey, the better the chance of walking away with a full belly and (fun aside) that was the goal of the entire exercise, wasn't it? By the time he noticed that the sound of the dog's paws impacting the pavement had paused and a menacing shadow began to lunge for him (indicating that the dog had decided that it was close enough to pounce), it was already too late.

Izzy let out a terrified squeal of fear and shock as he was suddenly knocked to the ground by a creature so terrifying, he quickly shut his eyes in an effort to keep the horrifying sight of the predator from entering his consciousness. He already knew too much, he didn't want to know any more. After a short tumble (they had been traveling at fairly high speeds, after all), the two bodies finally came to rest, the squirrel pinned to the ground by a heavy paw on each of his shoulders. The rodent whimpered and  squeaked in panic at having finally been caught and being completely at the mercy of the horrible creature now standing over him, looking the little squirrel over. The dog let out a happy bark at having finally captured the little prey, now having all the time in the world to enjoy its meal. There was nothing more satisfying than finally catching the prey you're after and having them all to yourself. The canine, panting from all that running, stared down at the scared little rodent with only one thought running through its mind - food. Finally, after a few moments of silence (save for the dog's panting and the squirrel's whimpering), Izzy slowly raised his gaze and opened his eyes, finally taking in the sight of the terrible predator looming over him, pinning him to the ground. The sight that greeted him was utterly horrifying and the squirrel's eyes widened as his pitiful whimpers increased in frequency and desperation. He was so scared, he didn't even know what to think. Everything seemed so obvious yet wrapped in mystery at the same time; it was clear to even the most casual observer with the meanest intelligence what happens when a hungry dog catches a squirrel, but it still seemed like there were so many terrifying possibilities. I mean of course he was going to be eaten, but how would the canine go about it? Would it snap him up like a doggy treat or would it savor him slowly and deliberately, taking advantage of the poor little squirrelly to reward its taste-buds after such a fun (though text-book) chase? Would it gobble him up gently and carefully or would it scarf him down roughly, cramming the squirrel down into its belly and moving on? In the end, though, all of these terrible possibilities were simply differently dressed versions of the same ending - Izzy was going in a doggy belly, no way around it. Whatever the circumstances and particulars in between, that ultimate ending would remain unchanged; the dog's stomach was going to end up full of squirrel and the dog was going to end up happy regardless.

The squirrel only managed to offer a horrified stare as a response to the hungry gaze that peered down at him as the dog suddenly took a paw off his shoulder (still pinning him securely to the ground) and lunged its head forward, gripping Izzy's leg in its jaws. The squirrel squealed in terror as he felt the dog's maw close around the middle of his leg, thinking that his trip into this canine's body had already begun and was just about to begin to attempt to thrash his way out of the dog's grip when it began to drag him over to a shaded alcove that was almost completely hidden from view for anyone who would happen to be on the street. Confused at first as to what was going on, Izzy was quickly able to figure out that he was being dragged off to somewhere hidden, somewhere the dog could enjoy its meal in peace. The feeling of literally being dragged away to his doom caused the squirrel to squeak and whimper loudly, trying his best to grip the ground that burned his back with friction as the dog dragged him away, desperate for anything that could stop or even just slow what was going on. Overcome with a sudden flood of doom at the knowledge that he was being dragged off to be a doggy supper, his voice squeaked to life as he vocalized involuntarily.

"...n-no! N-n-no, p-please!"

As expected, the dog seemed completely uninterested in its prey's thrashing and begging. It had some yummy food to swallow up and that's what was important; it could easily maintain its grasp of the squirrel with virtually no effort, despite whatever squirms and wiggles the rodent could muster. The dog had no reason to worry. The squirrel in question was quickly overwhelmed as he was dragged further and further away, still pitifully grasping at the ground with his trembling little paws. Tears began to form in his eyes as disparity mounted and mixed with grief and sadness and fear, all combining to form a cocktail of negative emotions. It was all over - he was caught. He had finally been caught by a predator and was now doomed to a life of being mere dinner in a belly. Everything seemed so obvious yet felt like it was such new information; he knew he was going to get caught eventually and yet it still hurt as if it was the first time such a thought had even crossed his mind. The tears forming in his eyes were quick to roll down his face as they finally came to rest in a dark and hidden little alley-like alcove that would certainly hide what was surely about to happen from anyone that might be willing and able to offer their assistance. As if that would ever happen but still, it was painful to think that even a miracle like that would be prevented by his predator with such a simple move. Even if the planets aligned and some kind of prey super-hero came upon the little squirrel being munched by a dog, it would be completely impossible for them to even be seen now, rendering that outlandish fantasy defunct before it even really had a chance of being plausible.

Now satisfied with the surroundings, the dog planted both paws right back onto the squirrel's shoulders, once again pinning him to the ground and making any big movements (let alone escape) completely impossible and went back to simply staring at the defenseless little creature. The squirrel, crying at this point, his weak sniffles and whimpers mixing together to form an exceedingly pitiful soundtrack kept his eyes closed, resigned to his tears as he simply awaited what horrible torturous fate surely awaited him now that the dog had him where it wanted him.

"...p-p...p-please...p-please don't e-e-eat me..."

Again, the squirrel's vocal chords were subconsciously stirred to life in light of the desperate and escape-proof situation he was in. He knew it would do no good, but his submissive nature just couldn't help but think that if he just begged and submitted enough, he would get to keep his freedom. He felt the weight of the dog on top of him increase (as it leaned forward) and the answer to his plea came in the form of the spine-numbingly terrifying feeling of a warm doggy tongue lapping at his face and tasting the squirrel along with the tears flowing out of his eyes. As the squirrel's weeping worsened and he let out a particularly sad sounding mutter of despair, the dog growled softly in pleasure. Apparently, Izzy tasted good with salt. After a few more licks, however, the dog returned to simply staring down at the lowly little pathetic critter in tears and completely at its mercy. As it watched the little creature cry and whimper, the noises that had been growls of pleasure soon morphed into something different. It was hard to tell exactly what they were, but the sounds suddenly seemed to be conveying a completely different emotion and it was one that was kind of hard to pinpoint. As it simply stared at the pitiful little creature, Izzy's eyes slowly opened once again, the squirrel wincing as he got another view of the terrifying predator he was totally at the mercy of. Staring up at the dog with incredibly wide and scared eyes, leaking tears like crazy as the squirrel sniffled sadly, the rodent felt his vocal chords (nearly frozen solid from fear at this point) vibrate as his mind forced him to beg his captor for his freedom once again. He somehow managed to choke out the words, his throat fighting him all the way in its effort to remain closed as a byproduct of both his fear and his sobbing.

"...n...n-n-nice d-dog, p-please...p-please let m-me g-go, I...I d-don't w-want to be a...d-d-dog's s-snack!"

His tears were quick to reclaim control of his throat, a soft wail of fear capping off the pathetic plea, his throat slamming shut as his weeping overtook his ability to form words, once again leading to another mess of pitiful noises and fearful shivers. The squirrel's eyes closed once again as he was left to simply soak in the feelings of hopelessness and destitute. This was all just a farce for the main event which could come at any moment. Again, Izzy's fate was already sealed; this begging bit was merely a bridge between the two sections Izzy's life would now be divided into: before becoming a simple lump in a doggy belly, after becoming a simple lump in a doggy belly. When another tense cluster of moments passed without any movement or noise or licks or barks (and thankfully, any feelings of being engulfed by a canine maw), the squirrel's eyes slowly reopened and looked up at his canine master. What greeted him was a somewhat odd sight to see. The dog was still staring down at him (as it had been the entire time) but there was something different in its expression. What had originally been a look of 'sizing up potential meat' had somehow morphed into something different, something more base and less easily distinguishable. If Izzy didn't know any better, it seemed like the dog was expressing pity and perhaps...just maybe...it was considering letting him go. While that surely sounded absolutely insane to the squirrel's terrified and panicked mind was actually was supported by the dog's next move, that being a slight widening of the eyes and an accompanying head tilt. Instantly seizing the opportunity, his subconscious springing to life before he could even parse this new twist, he could feel his vocal chords spring to life yet again, his squeaky and cracking voice coming out as quite the pitiful sound indeed.

"...p-please...I...I j-just w-wanna go h-h-home...p-please..."

Izzy's insane hypothesis was actually gaining some traction as this seemed to only deepen the dog's expression of pity, the sounds the canine was making (and the fact that it had decreased the crushing weight on the squirrel's shoulders to be slightly bearable) indicating that it was indeed feeling at least a little bad for the rodent. Perhaps the sight of the innocent, feeble little critter crying and shivering in its grasp had moved its canine heart and Izzy would actually be able to make it back to his apartment after this encounter, uneaten. Suddenly feeling like he was on to something and desperate to capitalize on this sudden compassion, he spoke again, feeling like perhaps there was hope in this bleak scenario after all.

"...p-please...n-nice d-doggy..."

Suddenly, something changed and it didn't seem to be for the better. The dog's look, a gentle gaze of almost parental empathy, instantly hardened at hearing those words.

"What did you just call me?"

Izzy's jaw literally dropped in shock at what seemed to be what had happened but surely could not have occurred. The dog's lips and mouth had moved again but this time, instead of a feral bark or whine of pity...words came out. And angry ones, too. First of all, it became clear (or would have become clear if Izzy weren't busy reeling in shock at perfect English coming from the maw of what had presented itself thus far as a completely feral creature) that the dog was not an 'it', the dog was a 'she' and /she/ seemed upset. Izzy simply stared, wide-eyed, as he tried to make sense of the situation, failing pretty spectacularly.

"...y...y-you....y-you...?"

That was all he could get out. In response to the pathetic attempt at forming a coherent sentence, the dog did what had seemed impossible mere moments ago and spoke again.

"Answer my question, rodent. Did you just call me...'doggy'?"

That was round two of the boxing match between Izzy and wide-eyed gaping-maw shock and it resulted in another black eye for the squirrel as the shock instantly KO'd him within seconds of the round beginning. He had no idea what to say and had not the means (brain power or throat power) to actually reply to the dog's question so he simply continued his shocked stare, not yet able to grasp or comprehend what was happening. He was snapped out of this when, in response, the dog planted a considerable amount of weight onto the paws pressing him into the ground, apparently not pleased with the silence she was given in response to her query. The squirrel squeaked as he was pinned down harder, his numb shock broken by the prospect of physical pain that, while present the entire time he was captured, now suddenly seemed like a much more real threat. The squirrel nodded 'yes' hesitantly, worried about whether or not that was the answer she wanted but also equally worried that she would hurt him if his stunned silence continued. It quickly became apparent that this was not the answer the dog wanted to hear, that fact quickly confirmed by a quiet growl. This time, though, the driving force behind the sound was not hunger or gustatory pleasure, it was anger.

"I /hate/ that word. Nothing gets under my skin like being called...'doggy'..."

She scowled as she repeated that word she loathed so much, making it seem like the act of uttering it filled her mouth with a bitter taste.

"I'm a canine; a fearsome and powerful creature. A predator. And I refuse to be addressed as a pet or some such nonsense, much less by a little morsel of a rodent."

Oh dear...this was bad. The situation had not only gotten worse than it was before, it had gotten far worse than Izzy had even dared to dream it could. His terror-addled mind almost ached to return to mere moments ago, when she was merely interested in eating him. Now, she was mad...and an angry pred was even scarier than a hungry pred. A hungry pred, even if sadistic and interested in playing with their food before scarfing it down, simply wishes to get you in their belly and that's that. An angry pred, on the other hand...there exists a limitless array of possibilities and opportunities for all kinds of torture, both mental and physical that could stretch on for as long as the predator pleases...and /then/ you'll end up in their belly. This certainly seems like a far worse fate than simply falling victim to a creature that wants something inside of its gut and, unfortunately for Izzy, this seemed to be exactly the situation the little squirrelly was in. Completely by accident, he had...*gulp*...offended this terrifying creature that had been interested in devouring him and now had an entirely new set of problems dealt to him. This was exactly what Izzy was always terrified of - the sweet, kind-hearted little squirrel would never dream of insulting or offending anyone intentionally. The problem did not lie in potential rebellion or disobedience, Izzy's fear was that he would inadvertently do something the predator didn't like and would face equal punishment. His words to predators were always agonized over and scrutinized, the rodent attempting to stuff every sentence with as much respect and flattery as he could in an effort to ensure the predator was not upset with him. He would do anything to show them that he would be a good little prey and do whatever he was told. The last thing he wanted was for a predator to be angry at him. And here he was, roughly pinned down by exactly that - an angry pred.

He didn't mean to do it! He didn't even know she could understand him; it had just come out subconsciously. Even if the words had been intentionally chosen and premeditated, he thought she was feral; he didn't know she knew what he was saying! He hadn't upset her on purpose; if he had known she wasn't just a feral dog, he would have taken great pains to ensure that he addressed her as she wished to be addressed. Her dark words stirring the melting pot of emotions flowing through his mind, he was quick to respond (verbally this time). Granted, he was still reeling in shock a little at words suddenly springing from the canine's lips, let alone the fact that he had accidentally offended her and could now potentially face the angry wrath of a...d-d-dog...

"...I-I-I'm s-sorry! I-I'm sorry! I-I didn't m-mean to, I s-swear!"

The dog's expression didn't change in light of the squirrel's frantic and squeaky words. Her look of disdain for the lowly little creature remained front and center (with absolutely no attempt at hiding it) as the squirrel's trembling and whimpering returned in full force as all of the billions of emotions rocketing through his mind bubbled through the numb shock to return the squirrel back to his earlier disheveled state. Terrified over the lack of reaction from the predator (indicating that she was still...*gulp*...upset), Izzy's shivering continued to worsen as he let out a pitiful little squeak as she made no effort to even let up on the immense pressure her paws maintained on his shoulders.

"...p-p-please, I'm...I'm s-sorry...I...I d-didn't mean t-to u-upset you, I...I s-s-swear...I'm s-sorry..."

The squirrel's shaky and stuttering mess of an attempt at speaking degraded into a series of sad sniffles as Izzy's tears (which had dried temporarily in shock) were quick to return to the poor thing's face as terror reclaimed control of his thoughts and emotions. He was really in trouble now, and to think he was terrified when all she was gonna do was eat him. What's worse than a hungry feral dog? A pissed off anthropomorphic-yet-somehow-feral-shaped dog that is not too pleased with you, that's what. A sly grin spread across the dog's face at his continued begging and pitiful sniffles. This development left Izzy momentarily unsure of what to think; a grinning predator was usually a bad thing but anything seemed preferable to the cold look of displeasure that had been affixed to the canine's face mere seconds ago. Again, hunger was now viewed as an improvement - anything was better than anger. Izzy wasn't given much time to contemplate this new turn of events for long, however, as he suddenly felt the weight of the dog's paws begin to slowly slide upwards. Confused, he lifted his tear-filled gaze enough to see (as well as feel) the dog plant her upper body weight on top of the squirrel, lying down on top of the little critter so that she was completely horizontal against him, her head coming to rest above his own and his feet lining up with the bottom of her belly. Izzy squeaked in fear as he was squished into the ground by the dog's weight, the canine's larger body nearly completely covering the little rodent, leaving only his head, neck, and a small section of his bushy squirrel tail visible to any potential passersby. A soft whimper sounded from the squirrel as he stared up at the grinning canine with his wide, tear-filled eyes wondering what she had planned for him and indicating a mind that was already formulating the most flattering and submissive beg he could come up with. She couldn't help but giggle slightly at the squirrel's horrified gaze and the nearly overwhelming scent of fear emanating from the lowly little critter. She just watched him for a second or two, momentarily soaking in the feeling of dominance as she grinned down at the little morsel squished under her belly and chest. Izzy couldn't help but flinch slightly when her voice finally filled his eardrums.

"Hmmm...what do you think, squirrel? Should a certain little tree-rat be punished for failing to address me like a prey should address a predator?"

It seemed like things were determined to just get worse and worse until, ultimately, the absolute worst case scenario was the only thing left possible. The saddest and most pitiful noises were quick to sound in response to the predator's words, the cold fear within his veins being stirred and churned quite vigorously. Tears were quick to cascade down the terrified rodent's face as he let out a sad squeak of a whimper at the possibility of punishment for his mistake. Izzy's eyes managed to widen even further (what surely seemed like an impossible feat by this point) as he quickly apologized and begged yet again for forgiveness and mercy.

"P-please! P-p-please d-don't h-hurt me! I-I'm sorry, I s-swear I'm s-sorry...I'll...I'll be a g-good s-s-squirrel, p-please...d-don't..."

The dog's grin widened immensely at the little rodent's frantic words as he sniffled and whimpered under her, again throwing Izzy's ability to correctly interpret his fate completely into question. Though he was still thankful that her gaze had softened somewhat, what did that grin mean? Keep in mind, the best case scenario here was Izzy ending up inside a canine's belly so even if he won, he lost. He could worry about that later, though, as mental image upon mental image flashed through the squirrel's mind of all of the terrible things the dog could do to him; he needed to get out of the trouble he was in first and progress on that front was few and far between. The dog sighed softly as she looked down at the pitiful little creature squashed beneath her; it was such a proper place for the inferior little critter - literally underneath her.

"You know...I actually was considering letting you go. You looked so sad and scared, all helpless and defeated. I really like playing with my food, but...those little tears of yours were just so sad and pitiful. For some reason, they kinda got to me and I was honestly just about to let you go. But then you had to call me that...word..."

Izzy couldn't believe what he was hearing. First of all, the dog's tone had changed dramatically from the angry and annoyed tone she had addressed him with earlier, her voice settling on a more natural and regular timbre. While this was somewhat calming (all signs pointing to the dog being even slightly less angry were certainly a thumbs up in the rodent's mind), it was the dog's words that caused the squirrel to squeak. She had been thinking of letting him go? He had been right all along in his surely crazy assumption? His begging and submission had actually almost earned him his freedom, and...his mistake had cost him that?! It was like every time the gauge measuring his level of shock hit 'full', even more somehow forced its way in. He was so close to being allowed to keep ownership of his existence and had completely ruined it with his accidental foul-up. He wanted to say something, to beg his captor for his freedom and another chance at showing her he would be a good prey and obey her every word but his throat wouldn't allow it; it was still locked shut momentarily in shock and the seeping cold of regret.

"I suppose I still could let you go. I know you didn't really mean to offend me by calling me that - you don't have to keep telling me. Still...I can't stand that horrible word. Nothing is more insulting. And if I ate you, I would just have to point to the  lump in my belly to demonstrate what happens to people who call me that."

The fraction of a second between her first sentence and her second was punctuated by a very slight glimmer of hope, the fact that letting him go was something she was even still slightly considering sending brief jolts of optimism through his bloodstream. They only grew in intensity as she admitted that she understood that the squirrel meant absolutely no offense in his poor choice of words and apparently believed his earlier pleas for forgiveness, that any irritation or inferred disrespect was completely unintentional. Unfortunately, those fragile bursts of hope were also quick to shatter like glass as she followed up this somewhat good news with a cold dash of predatory reality. As much as it scared him, he had to admit that it was actually kind of satisfying to at least know what the canine's plans potentially were. Now he at least had something he could beg her not to do, instead of simply stewing in fearful apprehension of a fate you only knew by a vague list of character traits. That being said, though, Izzy was utterly defeated. This whole ordeal was such a roller coaster of emotion that never seemed to stop; every new twist in the plot just spun the squirrel around more and more and his mind was quickly beginning to tire. He just wanted to go home so badly, to be back in his house where he felt safe and out of the clutches of this horrible, terrifying predator. He just knew going out to forage would turn out to be a bad idea; couldn't he just admit that he made a mistake and go home and curl up under a blanket where everything that went bump in the night couldn't get him?

"...p...p-please let m-me go...p-please..."

The dog let out a giggle at the squirrel's begging. Suddenly, she pressed down a little harder with her body, squishing the squirrel into the ground a little bit more, making him squeak as he panicked slightly. This earned another small giggle from the canine as she maintained the increased pressure on her prey just to watch him squirm in discomfort.

"What, you don't like being squished under a dog belly, squirrel?"

Izzy whimpered sadly in response to the cheery-sounding taunt from the canine, squirming underneath her as she squished him into the ground.

"Prefer to be squished /inside/ of one, do you?"

She couldn't help but giggle yet again at the squirrel's reaction to her words, his eyes widening and his squirming intensifying. It felt nice to have him squirming against her gut like that, though she was certain it would feel even nicer if he were on the inside. What dog doesn't love belly rubs, after all? To some dogs, including this one, there was something even more special about unintentional/unwilling belly rubs, like the ones she was currently receiving from the squirrel underneath her. There was something about the domination of the whole thing - the fact that he was actually trying to escape her and get out from underneath her and yet was really only succeeding in giving her pleasure - that simply amplified the lovely feeling of getting one's belly caressed. This being so, she saw fit to simply let a few moments of lovely unintentional belly rubbing pass, the squirrel doing a great job at maintaining his desperate squirming as all he succeeded in doing was rub against her tummy just by virtue of happening to be directly underneath said organ. Again, belly rubs were a dog's best friend; she was quite content to simply soak in the sensation as she squashed the little critter. She let out a soft moan as her tummy got the attention it deserved from the little tree-rat. Suddenly, something cemented in her mind and she made the decision she had been mulling over for the past little while. The fantastic feeling of the squirrel squirming under her and giving her quite the belly message made something click and instantly, she made up her mind.

"Ooooohh....you give such a nice belly rub, squirrel. I've made up my mind - you're going in my tummy. That feels so nice, I just have to know what it feel like to have you on the inside."

For nearly the third time that day, Izzy's jaw dropped in shock. The squirrel couldn't believe what he was hearing. Yet again, on the verge of being let free, he had done something that completely ruined his chances of breathing fresh air ever again. He had been on the cusp of being granted his freedom back, on the verge of being allowed to run back home and vow to stay far away from any place that might contain horrifying predators like her for the rest of his life, so close to being let up from under the dog's weight and allowed to remain in control of his own life (at least, as much control a prey could have)...and he blew it. Once again, he had made exactly the wrong mistake at exactly the wrong moment and had completely obliterated any hope of ever having an existence outside of a predator's belly. Just as the pros of letting the squirrel go were outweighing the cons, he had given her another con. Initially too shocked at this sudden news and turn of events, the squirrel was pulled back into reality when he felt the (alarmingly familiar) sensation of the dog's tongue giving him a good, hard lick across his face. The rodent whimpered and squealed, his squirming increasing as the dog moaned softly at the squirrel's succulent taste, accented nicely with some more belly rubs which made her quickly dip her head back down for another lick not only because she was greatly enjoying the rodent's flavor but also because she knew it would make him squirm a little more. And indeed it did, causing her eyelids to droop ever so slightly as the combination of the marvelous flavor of the squirrel and the nearly equally wonderful sensation of his entire body rubbing up against her belly giving a nice little preview of what it was going to be like to swallow this little squirrel and finally have him in her tummy. And wow, did it make her eager to begin.

The soundtrack of pathetic noises coming from the rodent only grew in desperation and sadness as the squirrel's world once again descended from cautious optimism into the cold, dark pit of fear and hysteria that couldn't help but materialize in the face of such a terrible and certain fate. At first, he found himself yet again struggling to even vocalize, the shock and fear caused by his third terrible mistake today (the first one of course being stepping out of his home in the first place) locking his throat in a vice-like grip that curtailed any sounds that attempted to get through it and into the atmosphere. Quickly, though, as the horrible notion that the desperate strugglings for freedom that he had seen as his only hope for salvation were in actuality merely a source of pleasure for the predator he was currently squashed underneath bounced around in his terrified little mind, his voice once again creaked to life to offer a desperate, squeaky plea for the umpteenth time that day.

"...p-please, n-n-no! P-please! Let m-me go!"

The rodent's emotional state was not at all assisted in any regard when all this plea did was earn another giggle from the pred as she once again slightly increased the pressure, squishing him just a little bit more, Izzy squeaking again as he was nearly flattened by the canine's belly.

"No, I don't think you're going anywhere, tree-rat. I think it's time that a certain little rodent learn his place in the food chain. And I think you know exactly where that place is."

Izzy whimpered as he continued his desperate squirming for freedom. He knew that all it was really doing was rubbing her belly but he was so scared, he couldn't stop himself; it just seemed like it was the only thing left to do. He was so beyond hope, it just felt like his final ditch effort at keeping his freedom. This was much to the dog's delight, of course; it was like this squirrel had gone to a 'how to make yourself a fantastic meal' correspondence course and had graduated from said class valedictorian. Everything he did made him a better meal, even when he was trying to make it hard or undesirable for her to eat him. Every counter to one of her advances simply inspired her to advance further and further until he had an entire lifetime of keeping her happy ahead of him.

"Ooooh, that's nice. Promise me you'll keep that up once you're inside!"

Before he could even offer another pitiful whimper in reaction to the dog's subjugating request, he was far too busy reeling once again from the sensation of that horrible canine tongue lapping at his cheek. Another horrible moan of enjoyment graced his ears yet again as the dog continued to luxuriate in the flavor of such perfect dog food, her eyes nearly completely closed in enjoyment at this point.

"Mmmm...I don't know if I can wait any longer, squirrel...I really want that flavor inside of me."

Another lick was quick to serve as an extended full stop to her sentence as she was now simply licking his face all over, lapping at the squirrel's features in that characteristically dog-like manor. He was just a piece of food to her and she felt no hesitation to enjoy her little snack, regardless of how it clearly broke the little squirrel's heart to be treated as such. What did she care that he didn't want to be eaten? He was a squirrel! Why should a doggy treat's opinion matter any?

"Anything you'd like to say to the outside world before you get sealed up in soft, squishy dog flesh? Hmm? Have something you want to say while you're still a squirrel and not just a barely visible lump in my belly?"

The squirrel let out another whimper-like whine, tears continuing to run down his face, as his wide and pitiful eyes stared sadly up at the predator. Somehow, desperation forced sound to penetrate his sobs, his words punctuated by pathetic little sniffles and squeaks, the squirrel nearly completely breaking down in fear.

"...p-p-please...o-oh, p-please...p-please don't e-e-eat m-me, M-Miss C...C-Canine...p-p-please, I...I..."

The squirrel's plea got cut short as his weeping reclaimed control over his throat at the realization that he really didn't know what to say. He was so lost and scared, he didn't know what to do. What was he going to say? The dog knew he didn't want to be eaten, she knew that he hadn't meant to offend her, she knew that he was just an innocent little squirrelly who just wanted to go home and just wanted someone to hold him and tell him everything was going to be okay and that this terrible, vicious canine wasn't going to hurt him. She knew all of that and was still very interested in having the little squirrel for dinner. What else could he tell her? That was all he had. He couldn't fight her off, he couldn't outrun her, he couldn't convince her that he was worth letting go...what else was there? Nothing.

The canine only continued to grin at the squirrel's words and suddenly leaned in close and gently whispered into his ear.

"You see, squirrel? If you had just called me that from the beginning, you wouldn't be here right now, about to be swallowed. You just had to call me 'doggy'..."

As the dog finished her sentence with another lick (she figured she might as well - she was leaning in anyway), the squirrel whimpered pitifully in response to the canine's taunting words, another painful reminder that he (in a completely unfair way) was still in essence the one to blame for his current predicament. She had been just about to let him go when he slipped up and would now have to live with that mistake for the rest of his life. And what a life it was going to be, too - he certainly wouldn't have to look far for a reminder of his mistake...since, y'know...he would be in her belly.

"P-please! P-please, I...I l-learned m-my lesson, I...I s-swear! P-p-please, M-Miss Canine!"

He made sure to address her by that title again, since that had apparently been the one she wanted. That was one mistake he reeeeally didn't want to make twice and certainly not now! The plea, however, did little to sway the canine into letting the little squirrel keep his freedom. On the contrary, her eyes seemed to light up at the sound of the squirrel's beg, her grin widening as she licked her lips and shook her head 'no' slightly.

"You're going inside of me and there's nothing you can do about it. You were pretty fun to chase and subdue and play with, but I'm hungry. It's time for me to swallow my dinner."

The squirrel whined softly at her words as tears continued to trickle down his face, the pitiful display not seeming to move the canine any closer to having mercy on the little guy as she merely flashed him another sly grin and touched her nose to his, forcing him to be literally face-to-face with the horrifying predator. Scared of what she might be doing, Izzy managed to force open his wide, tear-filled eyes and stare into the gaze of the terrifying canine for a moment as she taunted him one last time.

"I hope you enjoy your life in my tummy, squirrel."

With that, and after yet another lowly little squeak from the rodent in response to her taunting words, the dog pulled her head back slightly and opened her mouth nice and wide giving the squirrel a perfect view of the drooling dog maw that he would shortly be forced into, the gaping canine mouth eager to have the little squirrel trapped within its warm, soft confines so it could savor and enjoy the little snack. After  pausing for a moment to allow the rodent to fully take in the view of her gaping muzzle and dark, black void of a throat that lead to his future permanent home, the dog slowly began to inch forward and line her maw up so as to best fit the little squirrelly inside. Izzy's panic hit a brand new high water mark as that gaping, drooling muzzle made its way ever so slowly towards him, now making his consumption simply a matter of seconds away as opposed to the ambiguous eventuality the event had possessed up until this point. There was no ambiguity or false hope anymore - he was going to be dog food and soon. She had made her decision and it wasn't going to change - this was it. He went almost completely still in shock and his eyes doubled in size as the maw grew ever closer and closer, almost feral squeaks of pure fear and panic sounding from the little critter, the squirrel completely at a loss for words. Neither of them had to wait long for the moment they were both waiting for (though one of them was waiting in anticipation of the beginning of what was surely going to be a delicious meal, the other was waiting in complete ears-folded terror) as Izzy's head was finally shoved into the canine's maw, her muzzle instantly snapping shut, sealing her lips around his neck and completely encasing the little creature's head in soft, warm, wet dog maw. Instantly, the canine let out a delighted moan of pleasure as the full flavor of the squirrel finally hit her tongue. This was no teasing lick or casual sampling, this was a predator enjoying the taste of delicious food and she certainly was enjoying it. As her eyes closed in pleasure, she began to roll the squirrel around on her tongue, every movement of his spreading his flavor all throughout her mouth as she savored him. Muffled squeaks and squeals could be heard emanating from the canine's maw as the squirrel squirmed and thrashed with his head trapped inside the dog's mouth and the rest of him still squashed under her body, a practical and clever way to keep him from going anywhere while ensuring that she could allow herself to get lost in the flavor and sensation of devouring another being whole and alive.

The dog had to fight hard to keep herself from getting utterly lost in the wonderful things happening to her body - the flavor of the squirrel was wonderful and the act of finally glomming onto his head had kick started a very energetic round of squirming which translated to a very pleasurable bout of belly rubs. Both combined into one made the canine drift in and out of the world around her, her head swimming with pleasant sensations and a desire for more. And more was exactly what she got as she nearly subconsciously took a nice rolling gulp that pulled the squirrel in up to his chest. Everything was so intense and pleasurable, she had completely forgotten that this whole thing started with him failing to address her properly. All of that was secondary - /this/ was the real reason she was eating him. And to think she was actually considering letting him go mere moments ago. How foolish would she have to be to let a delicious little treat like this get away? Thankfully, though, she had made the right decision and could now simply relax and enjoy her supper. And that's exactly what she did; the sensation of the rodent sliding further into her caused another moan to reverberate around Izzy's body. That sensation is just one of those things that never gets old; that feeling of your prey taking their first nice, long slide into your body as a byproduct of your first real gulp. It just felt so satisfying, like everything was right with the world as long as that kept happening and ensuring that it would was quite an easy feat to accomplish. Another moan followed shortly as she was able to reap the benefits of having more of the squirrel within her mouth - her tongue was quick to explore these new inches of squirrelflesh, her doggy taste-buds nearly quivering as they slid over the tasty tree-rat. She had just begun her meal and already it felt as if it could not get better. Of course, she knew it would and really couldn't wait until this little critter was completely inside of her. Until then, though, she had a very pleasurable journey ahead of her.

The squirrel on the receiving end of all of this attention, however, was not quite as happy about what was going on. Almost completely overwhelmed with fear, he could barely even form terrified squeals let alone actual words and with her tight, constrictive insides holding his muzzle shut anyway, it was a challenge to make even those pathetic sounds. Izzy continued to thrash and squirm as hard as he could in the unyielding grip of the predator as she gulped him down remorselessly. It is impossible to explain how utterly heartbreaking and equally terrifying the sound and then, shortly after, the sensation of that gulp had been. It was so damning and final; once she gulps, there's no making up that lost ground and there's no gaining back those inches of his body that are now inside of her. Of all the benchmarks of being eaten, that's one of the most horrible to experience - the gulp. And unfortunately, he didn't have to wait long to experience another. Completely absorbed in the flavor of her prey, the dog gave another powerful and slow swallow, the squirrel sinking into the canine maw up to his stomach. The combination of hunger and delicious prey was making her gobble her snack up even faster than she normally would. She couldn't help it; she loved savoring prey and letting them soak in every single moment of being eaten alive but this squirrel was just so delicious and the thought of having him inside of her belly so irresistible that she couldn't help but scarf him down as quickly as her taste receptors would allow. Of course, despite the fact that she was dying to feel him inside of her belly, she really wanted to make sure she got a good taste of him first. She had caught him, after all; he was hers and she owed it to herself to ensure that she enjoyed his flavor to a satisfying extent. She deserved it, after all - she had captured him and was now reaping the benefits of being a good predator.

This gulp was a tad more heartbreaking, though, as it forced Izzy's head into the dog's tight throat, the squirrel plunging into the tube of warm flesh that happily stretched to accommodate him. This sent the rodent into another flurry of panicked squirms and struggles as he got to experience both the knowledge that he was beginning to slide down her throat paired with the equally disturbing sensation of the tight flesh squeezing him, trying desperately to pull him down to his final destination even when she wasn't gulping. By now, quite a bit of the squirrel was wrapped up in canine, the squirrel's hips, legs, tail, and a tiny bit of his belly being all that was left outside. With every gulp, as more of the squirrel disappeared into her, less and less of him would remain squished underneath her body, the canine slowly but surely becoming merely a dog with a full belly lying on the ground as opposed to a hungry canine squishing a squirrel underneath her. When she swallowed, she would shiver at the sensation of her throat's pull causing the rest of the squirrel left on the outside to slide up the exterior of her belly as he slipped in further. By now, there really was no point in keeping him trapped under her - he was quite nicely trapped in her throat now and there was no way he would be able to pull himself out of there, especially not in the panicked and disheveled state he was currently in. Still, she certainly enjoyed expressing her dominance over the little creature so she remained on top of the little bit of squirrel left outside of her maw, making it so that every single part of him was being squished by her body through every step of the process. He was trapped by her belly no matter how far along he was; even the parts of him not yet swallowed were still just as squished and warm.

Another low moan of enjoyment was quick to sound as the canine lapped at the squirrel's soft belly. Though he was a scrawny little guy (the pros of prey with his frame being that they are much easier to fit into your body and are usually much weaker than most prey having so little meat on their bones, the cons obviously being that plump prey can be more filling and can feel heavier in your belly which is quite pleasurable and makes you feel fuller), but all the positives and negatives were the last things on her mind as she savored the succulent little critter in her maw. Her tongue was moving completely subconsciously at this point, the tasting and prodding canine organ sliding over the squirrel and rolling him around so as to get the most amount of flavor off of his delectable little body. Her prey was actually helping out quite a bit in that regard, his squirming and thrashing rubbing himself against her tongue just as nicely as he had rubbed himself against her belly and making it so that she barely even needed to move her tongue at all in order to get a nice constant supply of flavor from the little rodent. Izzy's bushy squirrel tail was twitching like mad and his legs and feet were kicking as he took his proper place as a squirrel. Had her eyes been open, the predator would have been greatly amused by this, enjoying watching the fluffy little tail twitch and jitter all about as it took the place of the most expressive thing on Izzy's body at the given time, as the rest of his features (eyes and mouth and so on) were currently deep inside a dog's throat and were unable to express emotions to anything other than the inside of her neck at the moment. She took a minute to savor her prey's soft belly, her tongue eagerly lapping and licking at Izzy's tummy. His fur was extra soft here and it felt nice as her tongue ran through it in an effort to collect flavor. Again, it was like he was designed and built to be an excellent meal. Everything about him read like bullet points on an advertisement for the perfect prey. Every act of eating him came with a bonus, like his belly tasting good and also being really soft, providing both an initiative of flavor and then rewarding those that seek that flavor by being soft thereby creating a pleasant sensation for the tongue. Complete win/win situation.

Another smooth gulp pulled his hips into her maw and shoved his belly down into her throat, the rodent letting out a pathetic squeal as he slipped deeper into the canine, never to come back out. These new parts of Izzy were instantly seized by the canine's tongue to be suckled and licked over nice and thoroughly, the dog determined to not miss even a single inch of yummy squirrel. It was absolutely heart-breaking to feel the progression of what was happening to him; her tongue would rub over a section of his body, there would be a gulp, and then he would feel that same part she had just been licking sealed up tight in her throat. This continued inch by inch and was repeated too many times for the poor rodent to count as he was forced to experience getting swallowed in real time. It would have been so much easier on the heart if she had just swallowed him down in one big gulp and gotten it over with as opposed to drawing it out and savoring him like this. That was how you enjoy food, however, and his well-being was certainly not sticking out in her mind as something worth considering let alone something important. Perhaps even more heartbreaking was the fact that Izzy could tell that his head was nearing her belly and he was very close to finally emptying out into her stomach once and for all. This caused yet another burst of panicked squirms and struggles but, with his legs and tail being the only things left outside of her maw, all it did was succeed in giving her a pleasant throat rubbing. Earlier, the squirrel had been so eager to prove to her that he would be a good little prey. Well, he certainly was doing just that right now! Sure, it wasn't exactly what he had meant but the definitions certainly matched up - he was being a very good prey indeed!

Another slow gulp (with the accompanying moan of joy at the last few bits of the squirrel sinking down into her) pulled his legs into her mouth, leaving just his kicking little feet and bushy squirrelly tail outside of her. The swallow had also finally dragged the last of the squirrel out from underneath her, though it certainly was a minor victory to no longer be squished under her belly since it was being traded for being even more squished inside of her throat, a much worse prospect. In fact, the squirrel hadn't even notice that his feet and tail had finally been freed from the dog's weight (something he had longed for earlier), the rodent far too busy freaking out at his head reaching the end of her throat and being pushed into her belly, the panicking little squirrel letting out a particularly defeated wail of a whimper as his head was forced into the tight chamber that would ultimately house his entire body. The dog grinned around his ankles when the sad and defeated noise sounded from deep within her. The feeling of prey breaking that barrier between throat and belly just felt terrific and what better cherry on that sundae than the sad squeal of the creature making said plunge? She took her time licking over the squirrel's fuzzy legs, her tongue slurping at every little inch of his fur and skin. His legs still weak from the chase and having been immediately squashed under her belly, not given a chance to rest or recuperate, the tired muscles inside were unable to even offer a weak, feeble little attempt at fighting off the probing and tasting tongue giving the dog an opportunity to give her tongue a little exercise, looping it around the little guy's legs and suckling on them like they were candy.

Soon though, her belly let out a growl, demanding that she hurry up and get the little squirrel inside of it as soon as she could. It was getting quite impatient - she had been fawning over the little thing for ages and now she was taking so much time to savor him and enjoy his flavor that her tummy seemed to be getting a bit jealous, as if it was saying "Hey, when am *I* gonna get to enjoy him?". Seeing no reason to keep it waiting any longer, the canine took another large gulp, forcing the squirrel's legs into her throat and causing his chest to join him in her stomach. The dog grunted in pleasure as more of her prey filled into her belly, the squirrel's head hitting her belly walls and forcing the rodent to begin to curl up. As the inevitable and predictable bout of squirming this inspired began, the dog moaned loudly in pleasure as she finally felt what it was going to be like to feel him struggling in her belly. She couldn't believe she had actually been considering letting him go - the feeling of him rubbing up against her inner belly walls was unlike anything she had ever felt before. Wanting more, she began to slurp the squirrel's little footpaws into her mouth, the little squirrelly feet still twitching and kicking quite comically and pathetically as they slipped into the canine's mouth. Inside, the squirrel could feel warmth begin to envelope his feet and his heart sank at the realization that the final part of him left for the outside world to see was slowly disappearing as well. Stopping for a brief moment to savor his squirrel feet, she then set to work quickly slurping up his bushy little tail as if it were a noodle. It felt so satisfying to have something so characteristically squirrelly fill her mouth. It just reminded her what type of creature she was eating and how natural and proper and right what she was doing was, how much she deserved all of the pleasure she was getting just by virtue of being born the right species. With one last slurp, Izzy's tail (the final bit of him left outside) was slurped into her maw, the squirrel completely sealed up within the canine's body, the dog now simply lying with her belly flat against the ground. Pausing for a moment to savor this last part of her meal and with a nice final slurp of his tasty feet and tail, she gave a final, powerful, and heartbreakingly audible gulp, sending the last of the squirrel sliding down her throat and causing the entirety of the rodent to empty out into her belly, the little squirrel filling out the tummy quite nicely.

The canine let out a deep moan of pure pleasure and satisfaction as the squirrel finally sank down into her belly, the feeling of the entrance to her stomach sealing up tight right behind the squirrel felt by both predator and prey. Finally, she had him in her; he was hers and she finally had him right where she wanted him. All loose ends were tied up the moment her belly sealed behind him - that was it, he was food. The canine began licking her lips, moaning softly as she slurped up the flavor remaining on where his body had rubbed up against her lips.

"Mmmmm, that was marvelous! You were so tasty, squirrel! Mmmm...delicious..."

As the canine expressed her enjoyment of the squirrel-meal, the squirrel in question did what most prey does upon entering a predator's belly, he panicked. The rodent began squirming frantically in the dog's abdomen, inadvertently rubbing himself against the belly that surrounded him. The dog's midsection suddenly exploded in a flurry of pleasurable kicks and wiggles and she gasped slightly at the jolts of pleasure radiating through her system, the sudden eruption of sensations catching her a little off guard. The canine subconsciously squished her belly into the ground yet again although this time, her goal was to compact the squirrel's already cramped space so as to intensify the sensation of his wiggling. And that's exactly what it did, the dog's eyes shutting in pleasure and a gentle moan making its way out of her lungs as the squirrel squeaked in reaction to the dog's already tight belly squeezing the poor thing even harder.

The dog, her eyes having completely shut long ago, quickly curled up into a comfy position, the lump in her belly still quite squashed against the ground, the squirrel maintaing both his energetic (though now slightly more labored) squirming as well as his frantic squeaks and whimpers. The canine smacked her lips as she subconsciously rocked gently back and forth, rubbing her belly against the ground ever so slightly, just to top off and enhance the myriad of pleasurable sensations emanating from her midsection. Everything felt so deeply proper, as if there was some kind of cosmic injustice that had been righted by her consumption of the squirrel. And, in essence, there was - a hungry dog didn't have a squirrel in her belly and a yummy little tree-rat was walking around on his own volition, just taking up space. That is quite the cosmic injustice for both parties involved. For the dog, it meant she had to suffer the discomfort of an empty belly and for the squirrel, it meant that he was allowed to break the rules of nature and remain in the world of fresh air and sunlight, the world that should be reserved for predators. The dog needed a meal and the squirrel needed to be taught his proper place in the world and where he should have been since day one. At last, though, this horrendous error had been corrected and everything was right again. The canine reveled in the sensation of having done her job as a predator of devouring defenseless little squeaky things like this one. Squirrels were pests anyway, subtracting the number of them was always a community service even if it was just one. Dogs were quite handy in that way.

"Mmmm...good squirrel...you're finally food now...yummy little rodent..."

Full and content, the dog felt herself begin to drift off to sleep, the motions inside her very soothing. Again, it just felt very satisfying to have such a traditional prey species of her kind sealed up inside of her and her brain was very relaxed with such a noble and proper job well done. As the dog fell asleep with a wide smile on her face, her belly occupant's wriggling and squirming visible from the outside, she floated away on an ocean of good feelings, both physical and mental. She was a dog with a squirrel in her belly, the way nature had intended her to be. Just as she was drifting off to sleep, she managed one last taunt to the squirming bulge in her tummy.

"...just curl up and be belly-stuffing, squirrel...you're in there to stay...you're right where you belong...just accept it..."

She had to hold back another giggle when this just caused a sad whimper and some more squirmings. Her mind finally giving in to the influx of warmth and comfort, the canine fell into a deep sleep as her meal continued to thrash desperately in her belly, hopelessly searching for some kind of way out that he knew he wouldn't find but refused to accept. When the canine woke, she would officially begin her first day as a full-bellied predator with years and years of pleasurable fullness and warmth ahead of her and the squirrel would begin his first day as dog food, his species' proper title and place. Every day, he would be reminded of his innocent mistake that had ended up costing him his future and forced to endure taunts of 'I hope it was worth it' from his sadistic canine predator.

In the end, Izzy took the natural place of every member of his species as just a small lump in the belly of a doggy...er, I'm sorry - the belly of a *dog*.