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The hands that hold him down are gentle, but unyielding.
His stomach lurches.
They've led him to a back room, far from the entrance he arrived through. He doesn't know how long they'll keep him here, but he's determined to stay alert. The last time he fell asleep in a place like this, he woke up with his leg and stomach shaved. It had taken better part of a month for his hair to regrow, leaving him vulnerable to the cool spring air that tickled his bare skin whenever he'd run through the yard.
"Good boy! Now, stay still, okay?"
Without warning, the box hovering above him begins to whirl and click, almost like a broken toy. He freezes against the table, caught off guard by the awful noise. By some miracle, it’s over as quickly as it started.
As he waits impatiently for further instruction, the door behind him opens, allowing for hundreds of new scents to rush in. It takes him mere seconds to decipher his one and only path to freedom.
He turns onto his feet and jumps off the table with relative ease, but the movement upsets his stomach, threatening another repeat of last night. He licks his lips repeatedly, still trying to get his bearings as the door closes in front of him, and with it, his chance of escape.
He whines in defeat.
“Morning, team," the new stranger greets. Judging by the tone of her voice, she must be the leader of their pack. "What brings you in today, Satchmo?"
"Vomiting. Loss of appetite,” the shorter man with a clipboard says. He smells like soap, and not like the good kind they have at home.
"Rose, pull up the radiographs for us, please."
"Is that—"
"That’s not a house key."
Snickers erupt around the room.
"I think the dad is a cop, or something. Isn’t that right, Satchmo?” the younger woman, Rose, asks as she returns his collar.
Satchmo barks twice in agreement and manages to lick both of her hands before she pulls away.
"Looks like the key already made its way through the small intestine. Given the size and shape, he should be able to pass it just fine."
"I’ll inform the parents that we’re sending him home for monitoring.” The taller woman, their leader, reaches down to give him a few scratches behind his ear. “How about we stick to eating dog food, okay?”
He makes no such promises.