I’m dabbling in fanfiction again, trying to get the motivation and desire to write which is something I’m finding very difficult to do! This is the third story I’ve attempted to write so hopefully it is successful! I apologize in advance for how sucky it is liable to be. There may or may not be mature or upsetting themes herein. BTW, in this world I have the unique ability to speak with dogs. 

	It was an overcast afternoon and I decided to go try and hunt down some parts for my Mustang at the local scrapyard. Someone had recently stolen part of the exhaust and some high performance valve covers I had for it from my shed and part of me wanted to believe they were accidentally hauled to the junkyard rather than stolen. The junkyard was located about five miles south of town and there were miles of sad, broken down, and wrecked cars to be found, many of which still had great parts that could be used. Guys like me would come and salvage parts off them for cheap for our own uses. Being a mechanic, this was a frequent thing for me being on a tight budget. 
	I turned off the highway and drove up the steep incline and around the corner where I was greeted with the sight of hundreds of vehicles ranging in all shapes and sizes from compacts all the way up to semi tractors. Finding a place to park, I shut my truck off and got out and stretched while looking around. To most people, these were just junk cars, but I saw all kinds of potential and forgotten dreams laying about, it’s a gearhead thing! I strolled around and in between the aisles of vehicles, being careful not to snag or cut myself on jagged metal here and there. It would be hard, real hard, if not impossible to find parts for my 1969 Mustang here but I was hopeful. It was one of Ford’s most elusive Mustang years, from 1967-1970 model years were really hard to find the cars let alone parts for them. Although, you can easily find parts for 1964-1966 models or 1971 and newer Mustangs for some odd reason. 
          It was then I heard a commotion nearby. A dog growled, another yelped, and there was some huffing noises. I turned in the opposite direction to avoid the dogs if possible when a really loud yelp rang across the mass of cars and perked my attention. Figured I’d go check it out, probably a fight that needed to be broken up. It wasn’t common for stray dogs and cats to make themselves at home here, many found shelter inside the cars and sometimes the junkyard owner or customers would sucker up and feed them. I am no doubt a dog person, but I did my best to avoid the strays so I wouldn’t feel sorry for them an want to bring them home and then feel bad when I couldn’t. I waded between a few more stacks of cars and poked my head around the corner and saw a small clearing where the dogs were at. 
	To say I was shocked at what I was seeing would be an understatement. There was a large Doberman type dog and a medium sized, scruffier older dog who had a considerably smaller cream colored mutt pinned down between them. A dog gang bang, I guess? The small female dog was very angst and upset while the two males seemed to be having their way with her. This was something I’d seen tomcats do before with female felines, but never dogs. I shifted my weight and stepped on a piece of glass which broke, causing the female pup to look at me, her poor little eyes wide with terror and begging for help. 
I couldn’t just do nothing and let her suffer, the soul in me came to life at last! I grabbed ahold of a antenna attached to a car beside me and ripped it off and pushed my way into the clearing, the male dogs didn’t even seem to notice. I raised my arm above my head and brought the antenna down briskly and quick across the Doberman’s flank, it made a small crack and the dog howled, in either pain or surprise, I couldn’t tell. 
“Now that’s enough, get the hell out of here, you scoundrels!” I roared at them as the Doberman tried to lunge at me. I was quicker than he and brought my size 13 conductor boot up to plow into his chest and send him sprawling backwards in the dirt. He got to his feet, shook off and looked around, thinking better of it he took off and disappeared between a pile of cars out of sight. I spun around, ready to catch hell from the other dog only to find him walking way, limping rather, slowly. He had large patches of fur missing and exposed, irritated red skin. Mange, no doubt and probably had suffered with it for a long time. 
	Knowing what I had to do, I withdrew my concealed weapon, a third generation Glock 17 and quietly walked forward. It would be unfair of me to let this poor dog suffer, he wouldn’t live much longer anyway and his death would be slow and agonizing otherwise. Raising the gun, I aimed right behind his ear and pulled the trigger. The loud POW echoed across the sea of cars and ricocheted off the surrounding hills as the old dog dropped instantly without a hint of movement or cry of pain. I bent down and picked up my spent shell, put it in my pocket and returned the gun to its holster tucked behind my belt on my back. Turning around, I saw the little female dog, cowering next to a car adjacent to me, her eyes glistening and wide with fear. Knowing not to approach her at full height, I got down on my knees and cooed to her gently. “It’s okay, sweetheart, I’m not going to hurt you.”
I patted my legs reassuringly. Tenderly, she walked forward, pausing to look around and then continuing. She was a unique looking little mutt with a tight curly tail, one pointed ear, one folded ear and blue eyes which was something I found curious. 
	As she got closer, I reached out slowly and carefully, touched the tip of her snout and ran my finger along the bridge up between her eyes and forehead before giving her a smooth stroke down the side of her face, she quivered but moved in closer feeling confident she wasn’t in danger. 
“There, there, it’s okay.” I said scratching behind her ears. The young dog leaned into me and her tail started to wag, I ran both hands along her body, her coat was a mess of cockleburs and dirt, she needed a lot of grooming attention for sure! I noticed her vulva swollen and bleeding from being violated when she rolled onto her back for a belly rub. 
“You poor thing, what’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this? Got a name?” I asked. 
“A-Angel. My name’s Angel.” She muttered quietly. 
“Well, you’d better come with me, angels don’t belong in places like this. May I?” I asked, indicating on picking her up. 
She nodded and jumped into my arms and I stood up and started carrying her back to my truck. Keeping an eye out in case that big Doberman came back around looking for more trouble. When we arrived to my truck, I opened the passenger door and placed her on the seat before closing the door and going around to my side and getting in. 
“You’re a mess, let’s get you home and cleaned up and I’ll give you something to make that pain go away.” Referring to her wrecked girl parts. 
I started the truck, backed around and headed down the steep driveway. Once we hit the pavement I floored it, trying to get home as fast as possible to help this poor little dog out.

To be continued! Maybe.. If it generates enough interest and feedback I will do more.