Greg was excited beyond measure when Damien pulled into the parking lot of Cedar Heights Animal Shelter. He had finally talked Damien into allowing him to get a dog. Guilting him about Max’s demise had a lot to do with it. He hoped Damien would have a much harder time dispatching the dog if it was alive.

The first thing to greet them was the sound of excited barks. Greg’s heart grew two sizes. He didn’t waste time pulling Damien through the aisles of kennels, commenting about the possibilities of each pupper. Damien just wanted to be done as soon as possible. The overwhelming smell of dog poop was starting to get to him.

“I want that one!” Greg squealed.

Damien peered into the kennel and saw the poor raggedy dog staring up at him with piteous brown eyes. It looked like it hadn’t been fed in weeks. Its bones were visible through its thin brown-black skin. The spinal bones seemed bigger, pointier than usual. He got a bad feeling about it.

“Are you sure, babe? It looks kinda-”

“He’s precious!” Greg crouched down and placed his hand through the gate. The dog instantly got up and licked him. “See? He knows I’m his human. He’s perfect. We’re getting him.”

Damien wanted to object, but he knew the Max Incident of 2020 would be thrown in his face again. Plus, if it got him out of the shelter with all of its poopy smells, so be it.

They filled out all of the necessary paperwork and paid all the fees for shots and registration. Before long, they were heading home with ‘Bertram.’ He sat in the back seat and panted happily. Damien didn’t like the way the dog was looking at him like he was lunch. He convinced himself he was being paranoid and continued driving.

“Welcome home, Bertram!” Greg said, allowing the dog to cross the threshold. He hugged Damien and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you, sweetie! This is going to be good, you’ll see.”

Bertram made himself at home on the couch. Neither of them had the heart to tell him to get off. They simply sat on either side of him and cuddled with him.

The next week with Bertram had gone pretty smoothly. There were no accidents, no acting up, no late-night barking. It was as if Bertram really was the perfect dog. While Damien worried slightly about Bert’s hairlessness and thin build, he was pleased with Greg’s selection.

Damien accompanied Greg and Bertram on their many walks. At first, he didn’t notice it, but with each passing day, he saw more and more flyers about missing animals tacked on every light post and telephone pole. His mind instantly wanted to correlate Bert’s appearance with the animals’ disappearances. Still, he told himself he was looking for connections where they didn’t exist. Still, he was suspicious.

Greg had insisted on having a doggy door installed on the porch door to allow easy access to the backyard. Damien thought it would also provide Bertram easy access to the outside world. The wall in their backyard wasn’t as high as he’d like. The dog could leap over it with no problem. He had no proof this was happening, but tonight, he’d get to the bottom of it.

After Greg went to bed, Damien woke up when he heard the doggy door flap shut. He got dressed and stealthily snuck downstairs. He looked out the window above the kitchen sink to see if Bertram was doing his business. Since it was dark, he couldn’t get a good glimpse. It didn’t help Bertram could blend in seamlessly in the shadows. He sighed as he decided he would have to get closer.

He quietly opened the porch door and stood in the backyard. He could plainly see that Bertram was not doing his business. He was nowhere to be seen.

“I hate being right,” he said under his breath.

He stepped into the grass, and that was when he felt something crunch beneath his shoe. He took out his cell phone and used it to illuminate the ground. He gasped when he found he was standing on a bone of some kind. Greg didn’t feed Bertram bones because he feared he’d choke on them. So, Damien knew the bone shouldn’t have been there. He lifted his foot further and found he was standing on a half-buried corpse of what appeared to be a small squirrel. Not only had the bones been extracted, but all the blood was gone.

“Oh, no…” he moaned as he gazed at the rest of the yard. Knowing what to look for, it was easy to see the other half buried graves of exsanguinated animals.

A howling from nearby shook Damien from his shocking revelation. It wasn’t the howl of a cute little puppy dog. It was the howl of a predator, something dangerous, like a wolf, coyote, or… “Chupacabra?” It couldn’t be, but his instincts told him he hit the nail on the head.

Without hesitation, he jumped over the wall and ran down the back alley toward the direction of the howl. You’re crazy, you know that right, he thought. Only people of a specific population would think running toward an evil creature was a good idea. Still, if he could save one little lost kitty from a gruesome death, it’d be worth it.

The alley emptied onto Alder Ave, which was a cul de sac. In the center of the loop stood Bertram on his hind legs, which looked like something out of Aliens. Bertram turned to him with eerie black eyes that seemed to bulge out of his skull. It lowered to all fours and snarled at Damien.

Damien raised his hands to show he meant the dog no harm, which was a lie. He planned to do it lots of harm. “Hey, Bert, it’s me, Daddy Damien. It’s okay, boy.” He wasn’t sure if Bertram was buying what he was selling. The chupacabra didn’t appear to be moved by Damien’s voice. It crept forward, slime dripping from its gnarled lips. A guttural growl emitted from deep within its throat. Damien continued to talk sweetly to it.

“Who’s been a naughty boy? Huh? Who’s been a bad dog?” Damien slowly backed away, deeper into the alley. Was he trying to lure it back home? He supposed he was. “Who’s a naughty boy? Is it you?” Another growl was given in response. “You’re not a bad boy, are you? No, you’re not! You’re a good boy. Good Bertram.”

Bertram haunched lower to the ground, his leg muscles taut and ready to pop. Damien knew an attack was imminent. He cursed himself for not bringing anything to defend himself. He was done for, part of a complete breakfast with a side of orange juice. Even if he bolted down the alley, he’d be dead before he reached the house. He had no choice but to surrender.

Damien got down on his knees and closed his eyes. He prayed to the great Goddess above that someone would find his body soon and let Greg know he loved him. He shook as he waited for the impending attack. That attack turned out to be a sloppy lick on his face. He risked opening his right eye and saw Bertram was happily licking him, his tail wagged enthusiastically like a whip.

“You’re not going to eat me?” Damien asked. Bertram barked happily in response. “Shhh, we don’t want to wake the neighbors.” Happy he wasn’t going to be eaten, he got up and petted Bertram on the head. Relieved that he wouldn’t have to explain to Greg how he killed yet another dog, he led Bertram home.

Greg was waiting for them in the kitchen. He was happy to see them both unharmed. He gave them both hugs and kisses.

“So, uhh, I guess Bertram is a chupacabra,” Damien said. He expected to see a look of shock on his boyfriend’s face, but there was a severe lack of surprise.

“Yeah,” Greg said plainly, rubbing Bertram behind the ears. “Come on, let’s go to bed.” He led them upstairs to bed.

So, the animal disappearances continued until the neighbor ran out of animals. At that point, Greg resorted to buying animals from PetsMart every couple of days. As long as Bertram wasn’t killing people, Damien supposed the ‘dog’ could stay alive. Greg appreciated this muchly. So did Bertram.