MY DOGS I - A Night at the Kennels - Chapters 1-5 - Sex Stories

MY DOGS I - A Night at the Kennels - Chapters 1-5

... sweat and dog food. Not the nicest smell but it did remind me of Kenny’s basket at my parent’s house. It did smell like this, just maybe a factor of 10 or 20 less than the blanket of dog air that engulfed the kennels.

On the left side, each kennel housed smaller dogs, 3 to 5 in each kennel. They barked excitedly when they saw me, wagged their little tails, and stood up against the netting wire. I wasn’t sure what kind of dog I wanted, but one thing I knew: a big one. Not a purse rat. So I ignored the dogs on the left and inspected the right side. Slightly bigger dogs, the biggest was a Golden Retriever just like Kenny. He looked old and hunched over, his fur pale and tattered. Other dogs looked better (and younger), but none of them caught my eye. They were all mid-sized, most of them a mix of different breeds. If the “You will know when you find your dog” was right, I didn’t find it here, not even close. Maybe coming here had been a mistake. There’s a reason why real breeders charge more. This looked like the leftover bin at WalMart. I got goosebumps when I realized that this was a terrible thing to think and I’m glad that there was nobody there I could’ve told such an insensitive thing. It wasn’t the dogs’ fault that they were old, it wasn’t their fault that they didn’t look well-groomed. I couldn’t know what some of them had been through and how much they longed for a real home and not a dirty kennel, cramped together with other dogs and superficial chicks like me ...

... walking by and counting out “You ugly, you ugly, you old and ugly…”.

But even if that was a terrible thought, there was a kernel of truth to it: none of those dogs looked like the kind of companion (or guard) I was looking for. And there certainly wasn’t anything like a magical connection with any of those scruffy animals.

I let out a sigh and had to smile at all the trouble I had been going through to arrive at the shelter in time (and failed miserably at it) and at the excitement I had felt when I stepped on the property. OK, it had been worth a try - next stop: a professional breeder and who knew, maybe with a bit of haggling I could get one I could afford.

I turned around, ready to leave, when I saw another kennel next to the house. It was much smaller than the long row of kennels along the driveway, roughly the size of two garages separated into three smaller compartments. “Might as well check out all of it” I thought and walked up to it. The first thing I noticed was that it didn’t smell as bad as the other kennels. There was a clean smell to it, even though the kennels themselves looked old and worn down. There was that musky dog smell, but no smell of dog poop or piss. The second thing was hard to miss: a big sign, about 10 feet in front of the kennels

Beware Not for Sale Danger

“Ok, that sounds reassuring!”... I stepped a little closer but kept my distance from the kennels. There must be a reason for that sign - and finding out what kind of “Danger” lurked ...