The War Dog

Volga he called me. Took me in from a shivering litter of 4 and left rest. To die perhaps. Life seems to have less meaning when one claims monopoly over sentience.

I had this silly drive to please my newfound god. Meals three times a day, a warm home, what's not to love. Had my first kill in maiden deployment if you could believe it. Just marauded through it all. Oh how happy was my god that day. Even in hell you get appreciation. It's all I lived for.

Dozen deployments later my fangs were not even the least bit dull. Then came a fateful call one day. Fight those savages in the hill my god said. So I did. Viciously. Without rest. Without regret. But it was never enough. And my god wasn't as pleased as before. Things change I guess, even when you don't want them to.