Tucker is an ordinary dog, a typical yellow lab everything mix, living on a fairly ordinary suburban street; pet to an ordinary family. The most extraordinary part of his life was the street’s annual block party, which, this year, was hosted by his family. Each member of the family had a task or two: the mother had to mingle with the neighbors and keep things organized, the father was to man the grill and talk shop, the teenage son had to show up for a minute or two before he could go shoot hoops in the front with his friends, and Tucker, well Tucker had a very important job, he was to greet everyone that arrived and play with the many neighborhood dogs. There was even a new dog on the block that Tucker hadn’t met yet.
That new dog was Dexter, it was hard to tell what he was, but he seemed to be a large part Rottweiler, or maybe a small part Doberman pinscher, or maybe both, but there were certainly a lot of dogs that went into this dog.
Tucker greeted everyone with the energetic glee common to dogs, but something about Dexter gave him pause. He didn’t know why but almost immediately this new dog put him on edge. He acted like any other dog; he greeted Tucker with the same energetic glee Tucker had greeted everyone else with. And when it came time for the neighborhood dogs to play Dexter played like all the other dogs, not to aggressive, even seeming to mind the smaller dogs around him. Tucker could see no reason for his fear, but still he needed a moment away from the others. He walked over to stand next to the father at the grill. His fears seemed so much realer when he saw Dexter had also left the other dogs and was now standing in front of the nearby tree with his head turned, staring straight at Tucker.
“Sorry Tucker,” the father said, patting Tucker’s side, “there’s no food here for you. Go on out front and see how the kids are doing.”
Tucker didn’t want to go; going out front would not only mean walking closer to Dexter, but also turning his back on him.
“Go on,” the father insisted.
Alright, Tucker would just have to do it. He walked out from next to the grill and made a soft turn, passing by the tree where Dexter stood as he made his way to the side yard. Dexter’s head followed him as he walked until Tucker had completely passed by, then, as Tucker feared, Dexter followed him, not even a dog’s length behind. Tucker was ready to push through, just keep walking and get to the front yard where the son is, but as soon as both dogs had slipped into the side yard, neither visible from the backyard, nor the front, Dexter took his opportunity to strike. He run past Tucker and skillfully turned around to face him. Tucker only had time to stop. They stood nose to nose for only a moment before Dexter opened his mouth and lunged forward, engulfing Tucker’s entire head before he could even blink. He then opened his mouth and pushed forward again, and to Tucker’s horrified amazement, everything that had been in Dexter’s mouth was now in his throat, and he had a new mouthful of Tucker. This repeated again and again, quicker than even seemed possible. Each second a new mouth full of Tucker was engulfed, pushed into Dexter’s throat and sent on its way to his increasingly cramped stomach; finally ending, with Tuckers paws and the end of his tail being bunched together and sent on their way, with a satisfied doggie swallow.