Stray: A Dog's Twelve Years
The premise
You wake in a cardboard box behind a Chinese restaurant with no memory of being human — only a fading suspicion you used to pay taxes. You're a medium mutt of chaotic ancestry, and the whole city is your buffet. Twelve years, no leash, no plan: eat things you shouldn't, sleep where the sun is, and become, entirely by accident, a local legend.
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How it opens
The box is warm and the box is yours, and past its flaps the alley behind the Golden Palace is one enormous smell. You can't read the restaurant's sign and won't for years, but its back door hangs open on a kitchen full of steam and clatter, and a cook stands on the step with a bucket in one hand and something in the other you would trade a leg for. Nearer, the dumpster leans against the wall with its lid up, breathing garlic and pork and possibility. You go to stand and your own legs betray you; a puddle throws back a face you don't know, ears and all. Four of everything, a hunger like a second heartbeat, and the details of whatever you were this morning already going, going. …
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