I had it all. The rug by the window, warmed to perfection by the rising sun. The lap, mine by legal and moral right. Even the food bowl, replenished with a mere pointed glance. The human existed to serve, and I existed to be served. Order. Balance. The natural way of things.

And then the door opened.

At first, I thought it was a delivery-another box for me to claim. But no. In stumbled… it. A black Labrador puppy, ears flopping like broken wings, paws too big for its legs, eyes wide with idiot wonder. And the drool. Oh, the drool. It left a glistening trail on my clean floor like a slug in overdrive.

The human squealed. Squealed. As if the creature hadn’t just shattered the fragile ecosystem of my domain.

“Isn’t he adorable?” she cooed, scooping him up.

I narrowed my eyes. Adorable? He was a slobber factory with a heartbeat.

He yipped-at me. As though I owed him an introduction. I responded with silence. My silence is legendary, the kind that curdles confidence. But instead of retreating, he wagged his tail so hard I thought it might detach and go airborne.

The human kissed his head. My head had never been kissed with such fervor.

“Meet your new friend,” she said to me.

Friend. The word hung in the air like a foul odor.

I turned, lifted my tail high, and walked away.

But make no mistake-this was war.

Continue reading (Chapter-2) » Rebellion