Nothing manly about a boy like me. 

 

Deep in the Georgian plains, a man makes his own fate, with nothing but his two hands.

My first memories were riding in the back of the red station wagon, listening to Master and Darling talk about Shepherd's Pie.

‘Cas. That's a good name for a good boy like you.'

The next morning, Master took me to meet my roommates, Betty and Bob.

‘You're gonna live with them, boy. Take care of them and they'll take care of you.'

After Master left, they came up to me, thundering steps as they towered towards me.

‘Look how adorable you are. Come, let's go for a run!'

They took me out of the barn, making a beeline for the fences.

My tiny legs could barely keep up, trampling the soft grass beneath my feet, barely noticing the dirt I was getting on myself.

‘This is our home, never forget it.'

I like Betty and Bob. Despite being bigger than me, they never made me feel small.

Summers were spent running in the field, playing catch with Darling, and eating hearty portions of Shepherd's Pie. 

Before I knew it, I got bigger than Betty and Bob, combined. Where I once looked up at their slender chins, I now looked down at their woolly heads. They treated me no different, exuding the same gentle comfort whenever we sprawled on the grass and laughed after playing tag.

A few winters later, Betty and Bob had a barnful of mini Betties and Bobs. I got too big for the barn, and begun sleeping outside, growing familiar with the sounds of critters and the smell of oil from passing trucks.

It wasn't gasoline, or the barn. It slithered silently through the fields, slowly cutting its way through the carrots, gradually enveloping our home.

Before the fear could reach my heart, I was at the fences.

A gaping hole large enough to fit a predator stared at me, daring me to step closer.

‘Who's there?'

‘You already know what we're here for, yet you still ask. Is this what civilisation brings? Foolish, silly, dogs, forgetting the laws of nature.'

‘Nothing civil about me.' I tell the darkness, slowly adjusting to see the pairs of eyes looking back.

‘There are twenty of us, and only one of you. We'll have you on the ground before you open your mouth.'

‘Less. Eight.'

‘That's still enough to make sure you don't walk away from this.' His voice quivers, betraying the anxiety that I called his bluff.

‘Probably true. But I promise to rip at least one of you in half before I fall. If you're comfortable with those odds, you may as well just tear into the smallest member of your pack now.'

‘We're famished. Just give us one sheep, and we promise to leave the rest alone.'

Negotiating, he's less confident than I thought.

‘One sheep is one too many. If you insist on making my day, stop dragging this out, and come hither.'

‘You may be a big boy. But we're faster than you. We'll be at your side before you see me lunging straight for your throat.'

‘Likely. But if I bark, Master will come with his rifle. None of you are faster than that. Go home.'

He growls, betraying the desperation behind their disquiet bellies, taking another step forward, as if to tempt fate, before calmly retreating back into the dark. 

That's not possible.

Of course they split up. No wonder he was calm at the end. He was stalling. The rest were going for the real prize.

I reach the barn and immediately see Bob. His leg.

‘I'm sorry, Cas. There were too many of them. They took Betty and the kids.'

‘Which way?'

I can still smell their frantic scampering in the soil, scrambling back into the shadows beyond the fence, where their element thrives.

I know it's a trap, but I have no choice. If I go back and wake Master, the trail could be cold.

‘Silly dog. Go home to your warm cabin and your soft carpet. The jungle is no place for you.'

‘It'll be your final place. Tell me where your guys took the sheep, and I'll make it quick.'

‘I thought dogs were smar-'

I barrelled into him head-first, knocking him into a log, immediately turning my attention to his two closest generals.

Before they could overcome the shock of seeing their great leader fall, I lunge at them, teeth and claw, melting through them like butter at the edge of my vengeful, burning knife.

When I was still smaller than the sheep, I had to be agile in our games of tag, pivoting to throw them off-balance.

But I can only run so far, for so long.

A crowd is a crowd. I may be bigger, but I am merely delaying the inevitable...getting dogpiled.

The shock was wearing off, and the remaining five coyotes could once again see their numerical advantage, encircling me.

My odds were low in a five on one, but they were abysmal in an orchestrated assault.

They lunge at me in a wave of bodies, leaving me enough room to torque my large frame and sweep two of them to the side. 

Claws sink into my exposed side.

I pull away, clenching my jaw to not let loose screams from the lacerations buried in me.

I charge, vision shaky as the forest becomes a kaleidoscope of red and green, gasping for air over the deafening sounds of my overclocked heart.

I look around.

That coward. He didn't even dare to face me in this state.

When I arose, it was already morning.

I soldiered on with what faint scent remained, surviving off worms, morning dew, and the occasional muddy puddles.

Hours turned into days, blending together in the factory of my mind, at one point I thought:

After what felt like years, I found them.

He couldn't help but laugh. The cackling, maniacal, unrestrained laughter that only hyenas had.

I almost forgot his nature.

‘You're still here? Honestly, I'm impressed. But you're too late, we're full.'

‘Cat got your tongue? Few days in the wild with us and look at you. No better than the other guy. Here, have a leg, for your troubles.'

‘No? More for me. I really like you. But your eyes tell me you're no good to me alive. It's been a good hunt.'

I lunge.

Foolish, clumsy, risky, lunge. 

This time, he's ready, ducking behind the other two coyotes.

My days of stalking have left me an empty husk, less mass, and even less power. Just dodging caused me to start heaving.

I clench my teeth around it, the way I did while playing catch with Darling, pushing off a tree with my good leg and painting a crescent across both their jaws.

Only one left.

‘Okay, I concede. Let's go our own way, no need for further bloodshed. You're clearly not in any condition to fight any longer.' He begs.

‘Fine, you bully. Drop your human tricks and fight me with honour.'

‘You don't deserve my human tricks, nor do you deserve my honour. For you, these hands are enough.' 

Even blinded, I easily grab his tail, slamming him back into the dirt that he loves so much.

‘You were never the hunter, coyote. You weren't even the prey. You are the critters that Betty, Bob, and I sneer at. The pests that Master, Darling, and I step on.'

I finally fall apart.

On the stretcher, I hear scattered whispers.

In my dreams, Betty tells me I did my best. But I know the truth.

 

Nothing manly about a boy like me.