The thought of moving frightened him. He should stay where he was, still and straight. If they heard him they would surely take him away again. Away to that house, that dreadful house.
He remembered the smell, damp, like wrotting wood where mushrooms grow. He couldn't go back, not again.
If he ran, where would he run to. They would surely find him and then take him back.
No, stay here. Safe here. It was a small, dark, uncomfortable place but it was safe and thats all that mattered.
He could hear the trains in the distance, engines racing, making the wind whistle. It must be dark outside now, many hours had past so it must be dark now. Maybe this would be the best time to move, now, while it was dark. Make his way across the fields towards the trains. Maybe he could catch a ride on the train and then go far away. They would never catch him then. No going back then.
He would go somewhere warm and sunny with sweet smells all around. Good food, good water. A bright place where he could once again live life like he used to. Like he did before they took him to that house, that dreadful house.
No, best wait. Can't be too careful, they would now know he was gone, they would be looking everywhere, calling his name, expecting him to come to the them. The man with the stick would be angry, very angry. When he was angry he would use the stick on him, hard, make him cry in pain. But not this time, this time he would get away, far far away.
Ok, time to move, time to get going, this is it, take a chance. Now, now!
The dark engulfed him as he left the safe place, he could see lights in the distance near where the trains were. He started to run, running as fast as he could. Then he heard the mans voice, the man with the stick. He was calling his name and cursing.
"Rover, Rover, here boy, come here! Fucking dog, I'll kill him when I catch him!"
But too late, he was on his way. The mans voice getting fainter and fainter as he ran and ran across the fields. No going back, not now. Now he was free!