"Do it," I urge the looming figure over me. My voice sounds hoarse from disuse. My vocal chords are new, afterall. New to me that is. My lips and tongue feel thick and stubborn, not wanting to move in the way I wish. I'll get better at it, I tell myself. They're probably still swollen from surgery.

The haze of narcotics washes over me as I struggle to relay my frantic desire to be finished. The figure above me, clad in white rubber from head to toe has been accommodating, to be sure. I wouldn't have any of my parts without him. Or her. I have yet to hear them speak. I hope ears come next.

The eyes have always been mine. Clear, 20/20 vision, thank you very much. THOSE are perfect. And the ol' noodle is original too. Everything from nose to noggin had survived the crash. Everything else has come afterward, attached haphazardly like so many trailing dogs on leashes. Sewn together with coarse thread, a hope and a prayer, wham bam thank you ma'am.

The figure hesitates and I try to mutter, "do it!" Again. Maybe I should have added a please.

I may be a monster, but I'm nothing but polite. I'm grateful for the work The Figure has invested in me. My new parts may be swollen, raw, mismatched and a complex array of colors, but I'm content. Soon I'll be complete. And then- my revenge.

I want to be complete, not perfect.

I don't remember much of my mother. She could have had brown fur. Or black. I don't recall how she looked. However, with tightly closed, mucous covered newborn eyes I smelt her. My nose would spring to life when she was near - scent crackling like electricity from her milk ladened nipples arcing towards my young nose. I would nose toward her, then, until I could feel the warmth just as strongly as I could smell the richness of her belly. By the time I was old enough to remember, there was no more Mother. There was Alpha. Alpha had a smell too; new and sharp. It tingled my nose in a very different way than Mother's. Copper. Leather. Oil. Musk. I could smell him approaching the house long before I could hear him. My nose would tingle pleasantly and I would anticipate a gruff word, a scratch around the ears and a pat on the head. But mostly, I would anticipate dinner. More copper, but different. Brighter. Flowers. Dandelions, mostly. An oily lavender smell too. Alpha fed me regularly. I never knew hunger. That made a good Alpha. Right? Alpha and I lived a simple life in a small cabin in a lush forest. I spent my days romping around the woods but never straying too far. Alpha didn't like that. The sounds of the forest were soothing and intriguing, the sights warm and pleasant. But most of all, the smells. My nose carried me on many adventures but as soon as that copper-leather-oil-musk smell found it's way through my tender sensory organ, back home I would gallop. Until the bad day. The confusing day. I smelt a strange smell. I followed it until a sound joined the smell. A sound I'd never heard. I froze, listening intently to try and calibrate the correct reaction. The sound was loud and high. The smell was wet and salty. It didn't take me long to find the thing. It was a much smaller Alpha. Not my Alpha. But another Alpha creature. It was much shorter, slight in build and far less hairy. Except on the top of it's head- lots of amazing long strands of hair that smelt glorious flowed from this Alpha's head. The smell lit up my nose in a tantalizing way. I couldn't help myself and I had no reason to not trust another Alpha. I approached, my nose leading the way. Wetness fell from the Small Alpha's eyes. It noticed me only when my nose touched it's straw hair. But not straw. Flower smelling, but not flowers. Small Alpha jumped back and let out a little jump at my touch, startled by sudden presence. I sat on my haunches and didn't make eye contact - so she wouldn't feel threatened. She regarded me for a moment and then threw herself upon me, her loud sound and wet eyes spilling out with me fervor. I felt...sad. I let out a whine and licked at the wetness on her face. She let out a little giggle- so I continued. Soon her sadness seemed to ebb. Her smell fascinated me- it seemed familiar yet new in a way my pup mind tried to puzzle together. We played together until I smelt Alpha. Leather. Oil. Musk. He emerged quietly from the edge of the copse, and in the swiftest motion I'd ever seen him move he crossed to the Small Alpha and wrenched her from me. Her tiny voice emited a squeak that was abruptly cut off. Alpha hollered at me loud and have me a swift kick. I yelped an apology and ran home. "Git!" Meant go home, lie down, wait. I obeyed Alpha. I waited. And waited. My eyes were heavy by the time I smelled him. Copper. Leather. Oil. Musk. Copper. Copper. Copper. The front creaked its eerie tune and a waft of pungent smells swept in like a tornado. Alpha. And Small Alpha. Alpha crossed to my dish, his boots beating an ominous drum. His mood was difficult to tell. I kept my ears submissive just in case another kick was in the cards. He looked down at me and I rolled instinctively, showing my belly. He smirked. And the angry scent-feeling went away. My tail thumped in understanding. Alpha spoke his gruffness, scratched behind my ears and patted my head. All was well. My nose searched for the lingering Small Alpha small. She was here. Was she going to stay? I enjoyed playing with her. It got lonely out here. Copper. Dandelions. Grass. Lavender oil. Copper. Copper. Copper. Alpha bent over - grunt, sigh - picked up my metal bowl -clatter, clang - and placed inside- plop, slosh - - - My nose is my best friend. It's never led me wrong. It's never wrong. Small Alpha. Dinner.