TL;DR summary: A guy finds a dog.
Sometimes in writing you get hit with an idea you have to write, but for various reasons, can't use. These characters are in a sci-fi setting, not horror or supernatural. But, if this were going to happen, this would be the guy to whom it would happen:
Rex Finds A Dog
They didn't get out a lot. It had to happen at a special time, in a special place. Tough to find, but over the millennia they had learned how to sniff out these occasions, how to time them. They had to have the most boring job in the entire world: guard the one place in the universe no one wanted to break in to. So mostly there was nothing to do. Ever. When they did get a break, and got to roam around a bit, it was wonderful! There were all kinds of things to chase and see and bite! Well, mostly chase, which, if they admitted it to themselves, was where the real fun was. They weren't really allowed to bite anyone, except in a few rare cases, scattered widely through the ages.
Then, one day, during one special time, in a really awesome special place, they encountered him. The Big Man. And the Really Nice Woman. Oh, it was going to be so much fun chasing them! For several days, they stalked the two humans, watching, waiting. They wouldn't be allowed to hurt them, but oh, it would be so much fun chasing and scaring them! Chasing and scaring; that they were definitely allowed to do!
A day passed, they watched. A second day passed, watching, waiting, planning. On the third day, only the Big Man showed up. Perfect. Divide and conquer! Slowly, they climbed up out of the pit, but they realized the Big Man had seen them! The element of surprise was lost! No matter. They made their approach. They let out a growl and began their stalking approach. They noticed the human did not run. They saw him look about and reach for a large stick. So this one had some fight in him, eh? Oh, this was going to be SO MUCH fun!
***
Rex and Donna Mason were on vacation, camping out at the Devil's Cauldron, in the Palo Duro Canyon, in Texas. The Devil's Cauldron was a sink hole in the lowest part of the Canyon. It was also a natural gas well, that someone, way back in the 1920's, had set on fire. It had burned, continuously, ever since as the natural gas seeped up through the earth. The hair on the back of his neck was standing at attention. The very air seemed to be vibrating with tension and danger. He looked around, and suddenly he saw ... the dog. Dogs. The biggest dog he had ever seen. Correction, biggest dogs. No, the more he looked, the more he realized: it was the biggest dog, with the three biggest, meanest, heads full of razor-sharp teeth he had ever seen. All on one body. It had to weigh at least three hundred pounds of snarling, canine fury, and it was advancing on him in an unmistakable threat posture! Even worse: they looked smart. There was a sign of intelligence on each face. Thinking fast, he reached down and found a large tree branch in his hand, and an idea came to mind ...
Later that day:
"Well, Rex," Donna said, "I'm amazed. You've pulled off some real corkers, but this one has to take the cake. I mean, I leave you alone out here for thirty minutes to make a grocery-run, and I come back to this. How did you manage this one?"
"It came slinking up out of the hole. Just by luck I saw it. I thought that was odd, because, you know, all the fire. The flames didn't seem to hurt him, though. And he was definitely advancing on me. I noticed it had three heads, and I looked around and saw the stick, and thought, ok, it's a little odd, but it's still a dog, right? Oof! Hey, try not to step on my stomach, will you?" This last was directed to the dog. Dogs. Currently they had Rex pinned to the ground and each head was alternating licking his face. "So I looked around, found this big stick, broke it in two and threw the pieces in opposite directions and shouted "fetch!""
Donna noted three sets of ears immediately perked up at the word "fetch." Then they returned to licking Rex's face.
"So that was it?" Donna asked. "You played fetch" (three sets of ears perked up again) "with Cerberus. The dog that guards the gates of Hell?"
"No. Not at first. That just got them not to attack. I really won them over when I found the beef jerky in my pocket, tore it up, and tossed it to them as treats. Hey, watch this, these guys really love to play tug of war!" Somehow, Rex scrambled back to his feet, picked up a length of rope, and instantly all three sets of jaws were locked on to the rope. Despite his own near three-hundred pounds of muscle, Rex was no match for them, and the three-hundred pound mass dragged him across the sandy soil like he was skiing. "Aren't they the greatest?" he shouted.
Donna held her breath. She knew, as if she could see the future, she _knew_ what Rex was going to say next. She was right:
"Hey!" Rex shouted. "You think we could keep them?" The dogs gave the rope the prey-neck-snap, and Rex was tossed ten feet through the air to land at Donna's feet. He was laughing. "Gotta give 'em different names, though. How about Moe, Larry and Curly?"
Somewhat later that day, in their truck, returning home:
"Rex, this isn't going to work," Donna said.
"Why not? I know there'll be some adjustments needed, all that sort of thing, sure. But-"
"No," Donna said, "I mean this isn't working. They want to stick their heads out the window, and they're fighting over which one gets the window. It's tearing up the back seat!"
"Oh. Easy enough to fix! Let me just pull over here on the side of the road for a second."
A few minutes with a saw, and Rex had carved out a large section of the roof. And knocked out the rear window. "Problem solved!"
Donna looked and said, "And here I was, worried about the Hell Hound tearing up the truck. Silly me!"
For many years afterwards, tales were told of the pickup truck that had a three-headed dog sticking its heads out of the roof, and the alligator-sized tail, sticking out the rear window. Tongues lolling in the wind, tail wagging with enough force to shake the truck.
Sometimes in writing you get hit with an idea you have to write, but for various reasons, can't use. These characters are in a sci-fi setting, not horror or supernatural. But, if this were going to happen, this would be the guy to whom it would happen:
Rex Finds A Dog
They didn't get out a lot. It had to happen at a special time, in a special place. Tough to find, but over the millennia they had learned how to sniff out these occasions, how to time them. They had to have the most boring job in the entire world: guard the one place in the universe no one wanted to break in to. So mostly there was nothing to do. Ever. When they did get a break, and got to roam around a bit, it was wonderful! There were all kinds of things to chase and see and bite! Well, mostly chase, which, if they admitted it to themselves, was where the real fun was. They weren't really allowed to bite anyone, except in a few rare cases, scattered widely through the ages.
Then, one day, during one special time, in a really awesome special place, they encountered him. The Big Man. And the Really Nice Woman. Oh, it was going to be so much fun chasing them! For several days, they stalked the two humans, watching, waiting. They wouldn't be allowed to hurt them, but oh, it would be so much fun chasing and scaring them! Chasing and scaring; that they were definitely allowed to do!
A day passed, they watched. A second day passed, watching, waiting, planning. On the third day, only the Big Man showed up. Perfect. Divide and conquer! Slowly, they climbed up out of the pit, but they realized the Big Man had seen them! The element of surprise was lost! No matter. They made their approach. They let out a growl and began their stalking approach. They noticed the human did not run. They saw him look about and reach for a large stick. So this one had some fight in him, eh? Oh, this was going to be SO MUCH fun!
***
Rex and Donna Mason were on vacation, camping out at the Devil's Cauldron, in the Palo Duro Canyon, in Texas. The Devil's Cauldron was a sink hole in the lowest part of the Canyon. It was also a natural gas well, that someone, way back in the 1920's, had set on fire. It had burned, continuously, ever since as the natural gas seeped up through the earth. The hair on the back of his neck was standing at attention. The very air seemed to be vibrating with tension and danger. He looked around, and suddenly he saw ... the dog. Dogs. The biggest dog he had ever seen. Correction, biggest dogs. No, the more he looked, the more he realized: it was the biggest dog, with the three biggest, meanest, heads full of razor-sharp teeth he had ever seen. All on one body. It had to weigh at least three hundred pounds of snarling, canine fury, and it was advancing on him in an unmistakable threat posture! Even worse: they looked smart. There was a sign of intelligence on each face. Thinking fast, he reached down and found a large tree branch in his hand, and an idea came to mind ...
Later that day:
"Well, Rex," Donna said, "I'm amazed. You've pulled off some real corkers, but this one has to take the cake. I mean, I leave you alone out here for thirty minutes to make a grocery-run, and I come back to this. How did you manage this one?"
"It came slinking up out of the hole. Just by luck I saw it. I thought that was odd, because, you know, all the fire. The flames didn't seem to hurt him, though. And he was definitely advancing on me. I noticed it had three heads, and I looked around and saw the stick, and thought, ok, it's a little odd, but it's still a dog, right? Oof! Hey, try not to step on my stomach, will you?" This last was directed to the dog. Dogs. Currently they had Rex pinned to the ground and each head was alternating licking his face. "So I looked around, found this big stick, broke it in two and threw the pieces in opposite directions and shouted "fetch!""
Donna noted three sets of ears immediately perked up at the word "fetch." Then they returned to licking Rex's face.
"So that was it?" Donna asked. "You played fetch" (three sets of ears perked up again) "with Cerberus. The dog that guards the gates of Hell?"
"No. Not at first. That just got them not to attack. I really won them over when I found the beef jerky in my pocket, tore it up, and tossed it to them as treats. Hey, watch this, these guys really love to play tug of war!" Somehow, Rex scrambled back to his feet, picked up a length of rope, and instantly all three sets of jaws were locked on to the rope. Despite his own near three-hundred pounds of muscle, Rex was no match for them, and the three-hundred pound mass dragged him across the sandy soil like he was skiing. "Aren't they the greatest?" he shouted.
Donna held her breath. She knew, as if she could see the future, she _knew_ what Rex was going to say next. She was right:
"Hey!" Rex shouted. "You think we could keep them?" The dogs gave the rope the prey-neck-snap, and Rex was tossed ten feet through the air to land at Donna's feet. He was laughing. "Gotta give 'em different names, though. How about Moe, Larry and Curly?"
Somewhat later that day, in their truck, returning home:
"Rex, this isn't going to work," Donna said.
"Why not? I know there'll be some adjustments needed, all that sort of thing, sure. But-"
"No," Donna said, "I mean this isn't working. They want to stick their heads out the window, and they're fighting over which one gets the window. It's tearing up the back seat!"
"Oh. Easy enough to fix! Let me just pull over here on the side of the road for a second."
A few minutes with a saw, and Rex had carved out a large section of the roof. And knocked out the rear window. "Problem solved!"
Donna looked and said, "And here I was, worried about the Hell Hound tearing up the truck. Silly me!"
For many years afterwards, tales were told of the pickup truck that had a three-headed dog sticking its heads out of the roof, and the alligator-sized tail, sticking out the rear window. Tongues lolling in the wind, tail wagging with enough force to shake the truck.
