Chewy perched precariously atop a mountain of refuse. He had become quite nimble after climbing many of the piles to get a good vantage point in this desolate realm — something that Catastrophe could never do. His stomach gnawed with a familiar emptiness. The past few days had yielded meagre sustenance: stale bread, moss-coated cookies, and a charred lasagna. Catastrophe lay sprawled on the ground some distance away, his frame gaunt, his eyes burning with a famished rage. He cursed his weakened sense of smell, a crippling handicap in this land of hidden prey, and Chewy's unwavering refusal to join him in the hunt for rats.
"We're both starving!" Catastrophe roared, his bark echoing across the desolate landscape. Chewy remained silent, eyeing the horizon. "How much longer are you going to remain in denial?"
"I'm not in denial," Chewy replied calmly. "A truck should be coming soon. That's what Tooba said."
Suddenly Tooba the seagull wobbled through the sky, her flight erratic. "Truck! Truck! Truck!" she squawked as she veered towards the mountain of trash where Chewy was perched, failing to slow down.
The impact sent a tremor through the unstable pile. Chewy, caught in the sudden avalanche of debris, scrambled downwards, leaping from one crumbling object to another. He reached the bottom, only to trip and fall, his breath knocked from his lungs. Catastrophe, having witnessed the impending collapse, had wisely kept his distance.
"Follow me," Tooba squawked, her wings fluttering with agitation, as she tried to shake the dust from her feathers.
"Calm down, Tooba," Chewy said, catching his breath. "Where's the truck?"
"There's a truck coming this way," she quickly said, before taking flight.
Chewy ran, attempting to keep pace with Tooba's erratic flight, but the sky was a chaos of wings. Seagulls, crows, vultures, and rats patiently waited for the truck, eager for opportunity.
The distant rumble grew louder, a mechanical symphony that heralded the arrival of the garbage truck. The birds erupted into a frenzy, their cries echoing across the wasteland as the animals prepared for the scavenging raid.
The truck lumbered into view, its cargo a mountain of human detritus. It disgorged its contents, and the animals descended in a chaotic ballet of desperation, tearing at the hundreds of plastic bags.
A rat emerged, triumphantly dragging a rotten banana peel. A crow soared aloft, clutching a chicken bone. A vulture wrestled with another for a turkey carcass. Tooba swooped down, her beak clamping onto a piece of stale bread.
Chewy constantly missed every opportunity. He was becoming increasingly frustrated, but he persisted, his determination unwavering, until he finally managed to secure a stale baguette in his jaws.
Just as he was about to retreat with his prize, a seagull swooped down, attempting to snatch the baguette. Chewy growled, his grip tightening. A bulldozer, its engine roaring, pushed the accumulated trash, sending a wave of debris towards him and the seagull. They were locked in a tug-of-war, the avalanche drawing closer. Chewy gave a powerful yank, and the seagull, defeated, flew away. Chewy, his adrenaline surging, ran, dodging the cascading trash, until he found himself alone with his hard-won baguette.
A sense of triumph washed over him. It was enough food to sustain him for a day, even if it wasn't the most delectable meal.
"So, you'd rather eat bread?" Catastrophe said with disdain. He was now behind Chewy, his eyes fixed on the seagulls, contemplating them as potential prey, but he was wary of venturing too close to the bulldozer.
"Yes, I do," Chewy replied. "You can have half, if you wish."
"Half is what I deserve when I'm ten times your size?" Catastrophe asked, a smirk playing on his lips.
"No, you deserve nothing," Chewy said. "But I'm hoping it will stop you from eating animals."
"Chewy! Chewy! What did you get?" Tooba squawked, landing on a nearby pile of trash. Chewy tensed, wary of another avalanche.
"I got bread. You want some?" Chewy asked.
Tooba's eyes were fixed on Catastrophe, who was salivating.
"No, you have it. I'm not hungry," Tooba said.
"Why? He won't do anything to you. You won't, right, Catastrophe?" Chewy asked.
"Who, me? Of course not," Catastrophe said, but his tone didn’t exactly feel reassuring.
"I don't trust him," Tooba said. "I wouldn't be the first seagull he has eaten."
"You've eaten seagulls too?" Chewy asked, outraged.
"Maybe one or two… they're hard to catch and not too tasty," Catastrophe admitted.
"Why, Catastrophe?" Chewy said, his heart filling with frustration. "Why do you have to eat everything that moves and lives and talks?"
"Because we're dogs. By nature, that's what we're supposed to do. What do you think we did before humans came along? We ate other animals. That's how we survived, and that's how we'll survive when they're gone."
"I don't think that's true," Chewy said. "You're just too hungry. That's why you were forced to do the things you do. I know because I almost felt that way as well once, but you have to resist. There are other things you can eat."
"Don't be so naive," Catastrophe snorted. "Do you think you haven't eaten animals all your life?"
"No, I ate dog biscuits," Chewy said.
"And what do you think those dog biscuits are made of?" Catastrophe asked.
"They're made of… dog biscuits?" Chewy said, confused.
Catastrophe sighed and turned to walk away. "Wait a second," he said as he disappeared amidst the rubble for some time. After a few minutes, he returned, an empty bag of dog biscuits in his mouth. Chewy barked excitedly, thinking it had food in it.
"It's empty. Don't get excited," Catastrophe said.
"Oh," Chewy said, his heart sinking.
"Have you ever looked at the bag? Look closely," Catastrophe said.
Chewy examined the bag. It had a picture of some kind of bird.
"See that? It's a chicken, an animal, just like us. The dog biscuits you like so much are made from this bird, maybe other animals too. So welcome to the club of animal eaters," said Catastrophe. Tooba cackled in protest.
"And you," Catastrophe said, pointing at Tooba, "don't think you're so noble either. What about all the fish you eat? Just because they can't talk doesn't mean they're not alive. So how about both of you shut up and leave me alone to eat whatever the hell I want?"
Chewy and Tooba stood silent, looking at him. He had made some valid points. Chewy was deeply troubled and had lost his appetite.
"I am sorry, Catastrophe. I think I believe you… but that doesn’t mean I want to do more killing myself," said Chewy.
"Whatever," Catastrophe said, half-accepting the apology. "It's all the same. In the end, all we do is receive trash from humans. They're the real killers."
"Why do you hate humans? Mine always treated me kindly," Chewy asked.
"Because they think they can treat us however they want, and that we'll always be there for them. You think humans are so nice and wonderful. You would think so because they let us stay in their houses and be part of their mediocre, unhappy lives."
"Why do you think that?" Chewy asked. "Something horrible must've happened to you."
"It doesn't matter," Catastrophe said.
"Come on, tell me," Chewy urged.
"Yes, tell us," Tooba said eagerly.
Catastrophe turned to look at Tooba, his eyes consumed by a predatory hunger. The seagull swallowed and stepped back.
"My human used to beat me up for no reason. Every time he was upset, he would take it out on me. Even so, I always loved him." Catastrophe choked on his words, tears welling in his eyes. "One day, he went a bit too far. He hit me with a stick so hard on the nose that he permanently broke it. I was bleeding, in so much pain. So I reacted without thinking. I bit him with such force that he had to go to the hospital. I was left alone at home with a bleeding nose that left me this scar, but I couldn't think of my own wound. I was so consumed with regret that all I could think about was what I had done, and hoping my human was okay."
Catastrophe paused, his eyes drifting into the distance, searching for the right words to convey the depth of his pain. "When he came back, he looked at me with so much hate that it chilled my bones. I tried to console him, I yelped submissively, but he just pushed me away. He wouldn't even bother to beat me, and I wanted him to beat me, to punish me for what I had done. Instead, he did much worse. He… he grabbed the phone and called the vet… to make an appointment to put me down."
Catastrophe broke into sobs, his body shaking with the force of his grief. Chewy moved to comfort him, his heart aching with empathy. Tooba, her eyes misty with tears of sympathy, wanted to offer comfort as well, but thought it best to remain at a distance. "So that night, I ran away, and I never came back. That was the last time I had contact with a human."
"I'm so sorry about what you went through, Catastrophe," Chewy said, nudging his pal with his nose. "But not all humans are like that. Mine are delightful. Perhaps one day you can meet them and see."
"Perhaps, but take a look at me," Catastrophe said motioning to all his scars, broken nose and fierce appearance. "Only the bad ones would want me." He turned and walked away.
Tooba flew down and perched beside Chewy, her eyes misty. "Poor fellow," she murmured.
"Tooba, do you think it's true? Do you think we dogs are meant to eat other animals?" Chewy asked.
"Chewy, you don't need to eat other animals. You're just fine the way you are. You're my favourite dog," Tooba reassured.
"But as a rule, do you think we are carnivorous?" Chewy persisted.
"Well… yes. I mean, look at your teeth… at any dog’s teeth," Tooba said.
It was true. Their teeth were designed for tearing flesh. They were born to eat other animals. Catastrophe was right. Chewy felt a wave of despair wash over him. He turned and walked away, leaving the baguette for Tooba.
"Aren't you going to eat the bread?" Tooba asked, staring at the loot, and then at Chewy with mounting concern.
"No, you eat it. I'm not hungry," Chewy replied.
"Why not? You were a while ago… Oh, wait… you're not thinking about eating other animals too, are you? I mean, you're not making me eat the bread to make me juicier so you can eat me in my sleep, right?" Tooba asked with trepidation.
"Tooba, I'm not going to eat you. I just lost my appetite…" Chewy said as he plunged into the distance.
He disappeared among the towering piles of rubbish, his mind a soup of conflicting thoughts.