>Be anon.
>Sitting in a hotel in the middle of dead-end nowhere, room six.
>Single bed.
>TV.
>Dresser.
>Bedside.
>Suicidal man.
>.45 handgun.

>You're sitting on the side of the bed, a bottle of whisky hanging from your left hand.
>Your right on the gun's grip.
>You've been doing this for an hour now.
>Gone between incoherent shouting at nothing to softly sobbing, curled in a ball beside the bed.
>You take in a deep breath.
>You pick up the gun.
>You don't care about the model or make.
>You drop the capped bottle to the ground.
>It thuds softly on the carpet, landing on it's side.
>You release the magazine from the weapon.
>Seven rounds.
>You slide it back in and rack the slide.
>It's deafeningly loud in the quiet and cramped room.
>You bring the barrel up to your head and take a shuttering breath.
>It doesn't matter, the circumstances that put you here.
>What does is the gun to your head.
>You take another breath and close your eyes.
>You wonder if you'll feel or hear the bullet first.
>Tighten the pressure on the trigger.
>So close to breaking.
>Hear knock at the door.
>Sigh.
>Drop gun into bedside table.
>Open door.
>Standing there is a golden retriever anthro.
>She's about five-eleven or a little taller.
>"Mind keeping the noise down?"
"Oh, I'm sorry. Did me killing myself disturb you? My mistake. I'll try and keep it down while I blow my brains out!"
>You try and slam the door closed.
>A furry hand stops it.
>You look at her with a fury that you have never felt before.
>Her eyes dart over your features.
>Suddenly she softens.
>"You're not joking are you?" She asks in a whisper.
"What's it to ya'?"
>"I can help."

>You're skeptical.
"How?"
>"Can I come in?"
>You don't know why she wants in to your business.
>You don't know why you stand aside.
>But you do.
>She comes in and sits on the bed.
>You walk over and pick up the whisky.
>Uncork.
>Tip.
>Burn.
>Numb.
>She cocks her head at you.
>"Liquid courage?" She asks dubiously.
"It's something."
>"True."
>You lean against the door, rolling the bottle in your hand.
"Why are you here?" You finally ask.
>"Don't you remember? You were shouting and I came over to get you to stop."
"Sure but you could have gone home."
>"You invited me in."
"Wish I hadn't."
>She looks at you for a moment.
>"No you don't."
"Look here lady-"
>"If you wanted to die, you'd find a way to do it. You would have already pulled the trigger if that's what you really wanted."
>You feel the retort stick in your throat.
>She's right.
>You don't know how but she's fucking right.
>You really take a look at her now.
>Jeans and a, nicely filled-out, white tank-top.
>Nothing fancy but she rocks it.
>"Nah." She continues, her casual attitude catching you off-guard. "I think that you've gotten to a point where you have no one to care about, no one cares about you, your job is hell and you can't even go back home. Am I close to right?"
>You stare at the bottle and, almost without you doing so, you nod.
>"I knew it. I fucking knew it."
"What do you know? You don't know what I've gone though."
>"You're right. I don't know you. I do know what you're about to do. Or... Were about to do."
You sigh. "Why do you care? What am I to you?"
>"A life!" Her eyes are burning with passion. "I may not know you from anyone else in the world but I-"
"What? Need to help? Am I a little lost puppy?"
>She looks down. "Not a puppy. I know what it's like to be in this situation."
"Oh yeah? That's why you're here?"
>She whispers. "Yes..."


"Huh."
>"What?"
"Nothin'. The fact that we're in the same boat is... I hate the word fate."
>"Me too. It's not fate. It's not even luck. It's..."
"Yeah..."
>You sit in silence for a few minutes before you stand up, off the door, and sit beside the canine on the bed.
"Whisky?" You offer the bottle.
>She takes it, uncaps it and takes three big gulps before gasping and drinking in air.
>"Huu. Thanks. Fuck me, that's hot."
"Yeah. Nothing better to make a life and death decision on, right?"
>She chuckles. "Truer words have never been spoken."
>You chug a little bit before handing her the bottle.
>"Thanks. That's enough for me though."
"Fine by me. Cap it for later."
>She does.
>You slide up the bed and rest your head on the shitty pillow.
>You sit in silence for another couple of minutes, this time more comfortable than before.
"Hey?" You ask.
>"Yes?" She turns her head to look at you.
"I never got your name."
>"And I never got yours."
"*Your name*" You reach out your hand.
>"Callie" She says as she shakes your hand.
>"What happened to you?"
"Like you said. I lost the most important things to me. My mum died yesterday. My family can't give me the time of day. I was fired and," You check your watch "Yeah, less than six hours ago, my fiance broke it off because she was seeing another man. I am not worth having around."
>"Shut up". She stops looking around and stares into your soul. "Don't you dare try and say that your life is less valuable because those people aren't there for you."
"Then who can be there for me when my family isn't?"
>"Me..."
>That hung in the air for a while.
>She finds the bottle after looking for another moment, uncaps it and takes another swig.
>She passes it to you. "Drink up."
"Why?" You take a drink.
>"Can't die if you're passed out."
>You chuckle.
>"There you go. See that?"
>She's pointing to your face.

>You rub your hand over it.
"What's up with my face?"
>"On it. I think it was a smile."
>You let out another chuckle.
"That's the liquor."
>"Yeah, sure. Whatever makes you feel better."
>It's funny.
>You do.
>Slightly but you do.
>Your thoughts go to the gun in the bedside.
>You were so close.
>You don't know if that's bad or good.
>Come to think about it.
>You don't care.
>You're sitting and drinking with a girl that you just met, like your old friends.
>She stands up.
>"I'm tired. Are you going to kill yourself tonight?"
>You think for a minute.
>Somehow, this dog has tempted you out of suicide.
>At least for the moment.
"Tell you what. I'll sleep on it, alright?"
>She nods. "Good enough for me. I'll be back in the morning. There's a diner down the road a bit. I'll drive."
"You're really making plans for tomorrow?"
>"You said that you wouldn't kill yourself. I'll take that as a promise. Now, do I need to stay here and watch you or can I go to bed and not find a corpse?"
"I'd have no problems with you sleeping here. That'd give us a chance to talk about you."
>She smiles. "No problem. I can keep you warm. I swear, there's something wrong with the heating in this place."
"Yeah. They rent the rooms by the hour. You really think they would keep them clean?"
>"I guess not. Anyway, bed."
>She stands up and starts stripping.
"Um... You're just..."
>"What? Naked?"
"Bluntly put, yeah."
>"Yeah, anthros do that. Well, not all of them but most. I just feel uncomfortable sleeping in clothing."
>She flips up the covers and sits beside you. "I suggest that you strip too. You're not getting in this bed with those dirty clothes on."
>You sigh and take off your shirt.
>"Here, let me." She says.
>She expertly undoes your shirt and slips it over your head.
>Same with your pants and socks.
>She has your boxers off before you can even react.
>Now you're under the covers with Callie holding you.
>What the fuck happened?
>Just a little while ago you were going to kill yourself.
>Now...
>Now you just want to drift off into sleep holding this warm fluffy canine.
>"There. Now we can get some sleep."

----

>You feel soft breaths on your neck gently rousing you into the world of the living.
>You feel soft and warm arms wrapped around you as your body is pressed against another.
>It’s very shapely.
>It must be your fiance.
>She’s always so cute when she’s asleep.
>You decide to keep your eyes closed, not wanting this perfect moment to fall away.
>You don’t want to relive that dream.
>Everything that happened last night.
>It was all a dream.
>You snuggle closer into your soon-to-be wife and run a hand up her side.
>You get a little frisky and cup one of her breasts.
>You massage the nipple and feel it grow stiff.
>There’s something wrong.
>Something is very wrong.
>You can’t figure it out but something is off.
>As you grope her the sensation begins to return to your limbs.
>Her body feels a lot softer than before.
>She smells different.
>Her tits were not this big.
>She speaks, her voice heavy with tiredness and rasp from sleep.
>”I don’t mind the groping but breakfast first. Then we can talk about that.”
>You know that voice.
>You don’t want to open your eyes.
>You don’t want to believe what happened was real.
>Screwing your eyes shut, you pull away from the woman in your bed.
>You want to lock yourself in the memory of that moment.
>Your life, however, has other plans.
>You feel the woman shift in the bed and put a hand on your arm.
>”Are you alright? How are you feeling today?”
>Your eyes stay shut.
>You can’t speak.
>You can’t do anything.
>Your arms feel like lead-weighted sand as your brain tried to process what is going on.
>Everything that happened.
>Everything…
>It was all real.
>That, more than anything, is what stole the breath out of you.

>Your world collapses.
>You feel like you’re being observed at the wrong end of a looking glass, you’re so small.
>Everything that you’ve ever loved, known or cared about has left you or died.
>There’s nothing left for you anymore.
>You refuse to open your eyes.
>The golden beside you shakes you a little harder.
>”Hey. Are you alright?”
>You feel a hand wipe across your cheeks.
>You didn’t realise that you were crying.
>You feel her shift, once more, and the bed dip.
>She moves herself so that your noses are almost touching.
>”It’s alright. It’s okay.”
>She runs a padded hand through your hair and down the back of your neck.
>”I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. I’m here for you.”
>You take solace in those words and, almost without thinking, reach out and wrap your arms around her.
>You pull her close to you and she rests her head on yours, gently whispering into your ear.
>It’s strange.
>You’ve only just met Callie but she’s the only one here for you.
>She’s holding you and telling you that things will be alright.
>No matter how much of a lie that is, she’s telling you.
>For some reason, that’s what makes it alright.
>Not the lie.
>It’s the lie she’s telling.

------

>Eventually, you calm down enough to let the poor girl go.
>You crack open your eyes.
>Fuck it’s bright.
>You blink as the sunlight pours in through the dirty plate-glass window, leading out to the carpark.
>You look at the canine, lying on her back softly breathing the stale air.
>You look over and pull on your boxers then reach for the whisky.
“Callie?” You ask.
>”What’s up? Oh yeah! Breakfast.”
“No. What am I going to do?”
>She let the question hang for a while.
>A long while.
>”I don’t know. I suppose the only thing that you can do is move on.”
“Move on? How do I do that?”
>”Well the first step, for me anyway, is breakfast. Now, it’s already eight thirty. If you want to miss the morning rush then we need to get moving.”
“Didn’t you hear anything that I said?”
>”I’ve heard everything that you’ve said. I’m not belittling your problems. You need to move on. Your girl is gone, your family doesn’t care.”
”Gee, don’t sign up for the suicide hotline.”
>”I stopped you didn’t I? You can’t think about stuff like this on an empty stomach. So, if you want this problem to be fixed, we need to get breakfast. One of my cousins married a wolf in a pack out west. He was telling me that if someone has a problem they would bring it to the alpha. Then the pack would arbitrate between them but only after the whole pack ate.”
“How does that have anything to do with me?”
>”Just listen. So the reason is that the tribal wolves noticed that pack members would act irrationally and not make intelligent decisions. If they ate first, then the problem would be dealt with and not fester into something worse.”
“So you want someone to arbitrate?”
>”No. You need food in your belly to use your mind. Drop the whisky and get dressed.”
>You sigh and drop the bottle.
>For some reason, this is fine.
>You feel that, maybe just a little bit, things can get better.

>You walk out of that dingy hotel, catching more than a few dirty looks from the other people there.
>Maybe they're right to be disgusted.
>What kind of man are you that you’d get tossed out by the love of your life and then lose the most important person in your life, your mother.
>Callie’s being her casual self, having a one-sided conversation with you as you get into your car.
>Callie slides into the passenger side and stops talking.
>You move to turn the ignition and she sets her hand on yours.
>”Hey? I’m really glad that you let me in. I… I know that it was really hard to do.”
“Yeah. What else could I do?”
>”You could have not. You could have killed yourself.”
“Still not convinced that’s a bad thing…”
>”It’s still a life.”
>You remain silent at that.
>”You’re a life. You matter enough to be here.”
“If you’re going to get religious then-”
>”I’m an Atheist and I don’t give a shit what you believe. You suck down O2 and make things. You do things. You make an impact.”
>You simply grunt as you pull out of the tiny parking lot.
>”Look at a pond. Imagine that you toss a rock into that pond. You’ve made some ripples. Ripples can make waves.”
“You do know how water works right?”
>”Don’t be a cunt.”
“Would you believe me if I told you I was trying not to be?”
>She rolls her head on her shoulder and grins at me.
>”Nope.”
>She sighs and leans on her shoulder for the rest of the drive giving me directions.
>It wasn’t far.
>Maybe five minutes.

>It’s a small diner, almost right out of the 70’s.
>A little bell dings as you walk into the entrance with your golden protector.
>There’s a small booth to the right, off the door.
>A bar dominates one of the walls, humans and anthros eating high stacks of pancakes and drinking black coffee.
>It’s a mint-green that’s faded over the years.
>Behind them, on the other side of the restaurant, there are booths, arranged in four rows.
>Maybe half of the seats are taken up.
>A deer anthro comes up to us, reeking of cigarette smoke.
>She smiles at the doggo.
>”Hey Callie. Table for two?”
>Callie nods and you two follow the waitress to a table.
>You slide into the booth across from Callie, letting the hum of conversation wash over you.
>It’s… refreshing.
>Callie smiles at you, setting her hand on yours.
>”I’m just glad that I could get you to come out.”
“Yeah. I wanted breakfast anyway.”
>”MmmHmm. Speaking of breakfast.”
>She pulls two menus from between the salt and pepper shakers on the laminated table-top and quickly flips though the three or so pages.
>You take a look.
>Ham and eggs.
>Spam and eggs.
>Spam, spam, spam, eggs and spam.
>Bacon and eggs.
>Multiple different kinds of pancakes and waffles.