The Young One

In this fanon, Dodger encounters a teenage dog called Connor.

## Plot

Chapter 1

It was early evening; the sun was setting over New York, and people were rushing to get home to their families. However, one group of individuals were still hard at work.

Dodger and the gang were busy raiding an Indian restaurant. "Come on, guys!" he cried. "Is that all you got?! I could do better blindfolded!" "Really?" Rita sighed. That was when the owner of the restaurant, a tall middle-aged man with a thick beard and moustache ran towards them yelling, "You filthy dogs! Get out of my restaurant! Shoo!" He picked up the ladle he was holding and threw it at Dodger and the gang, who ran off laughing.

The gang watched as the now thoroughly displeased restaurateur turned on his heel, cursing in Bengali. With that, they ran off back to the barge. "That...was...close!" Rita panted.

The next day, Dodger was at the Foxworths', Dodger was telling Oliver of his exploits the previous night. "So then Singh's all..." In a *terrible* Indian accent, he said, "'Come back, you filthy dogs!'". Oliver laughed. "So Dodge, your week's been quite eventful." "Yeah, well. I'd better be leaving, but I'll catch ya later, kid."

Dodger began making his way through the city. *I wonder if there's anything I could grab to eat for the guys*, he thought to himself. He passed some boys dancing to music on a boom box and he began nodding his head to the beat. In his head, Dodger was singing "Why Should I Worry?" to a hip hop beat.

That was when a voice cried out of nowhere, "Come back, you thief!" *Wow,* Dodger thought to himself. *Only been out twenty minutes and I'm being called a thief. Better than I thought.* Very quickly, Dodger was knocked off his feet by a flash of black and white. When Dodger stood up, he saw a young dog. He appeared to be teenage and also seemed to resemble a husky-border collie cross. His eyes were bright blue and he wore a similarly coloured scarf with a silver trim. "You OK, kid?" "I'm fine," the younger dog replied, almost panicked.

That was when a snarling German shepherd approached. "Alright, ya little punk. Hand it over, or I'll make you *wish*you'd never been born!?!" The younger dog was holding a bag from a fast food restaurant. "Hmmm...let me think about it. No!" "OK. In that case..." The shepherd advanced on the younger dog menacingly and Dodger and the younger dog took off through the city, almost knocking people off their feet as they went. "This way!" cried the teenage dog. They ran into Central Park and he and Dodger dived into the lake. They hid underwater before coming up for breath and hiding in some nearby bushes on the lakeside.

That was when the German Shepherd came charging into the park. *Alright, bub,* he thought to himself, *I can sniff you out easy and when I find you, I'll tear you limb from limb.* However, he had no luck searching for the younger dog and left the park, deciding it wasn't worth his energy.

When the Shepherd had finally left, Dodger and the young dog emerged from the bushes, deciding it was safe. "Boy, that was a close call," said Dodger. "Tell me about it," laughed the younger dog. That was when Dodger introduced himself, "I'm Dodger. And what's your name?" "Connor," replied the younger dog. "That shepherd who ya just saw chasing us was Duke." "Why was he after you?" "Every day, I've been stealing his food. It annoys him and that's why he nearly turned *us*into his lunch." "Uh-huh. Well, let's eat."

As the two dogs ate, Dodger asked, "So, Con? Which neck of the woods are you from? Bronx? Brooklyn? Staten Island?" Connor shrugged, "I'm..." He thought hard. "From around. You?" Dodger answered, "Same here. Me and my gang pretty much run the city." "You're not a loner?" "No," came the response. "I do like the gang, but sometimes I do like to get out for a little while." "Hey, blood is thicker than water I suppose. I never really saw the need to be in a gang. I just think it's every dog for himself out here."

That's when Dodger looked up and cried, "Snap! It's getting late! I gotta get home!" He got up and as he ran off, Connor ran up to him. "Dodge! Wait! I'll come with you!" Dodger stopped in his tracks and he thought, *What will the guys think if they meet him?* "Alright, you can come," Dodger surrendered.

Chapter 2

As Dodger and Connor walked through the busy streets of New York, the younger dog asked, "So, Dodge? What's this gang of yours like? Are they friendly?" Dodger replied, "They're OK, but they can be a bit wary of new arrivals." "Really? Hope they like me." After they car-surfed across the city-a handy way of travelling-and ran the gauntlet of angry pedestrians, they finally reached the barge.

As soon as Dodger entered, he was greeted by the gang. "Dodge? Are you alright? Where've ya been?" "I'm fine. Look, it's nothing. I just got a bit..." He paused, searching for the right word, "...sidetracked." Rita nodded in agreement. Then, as if on cue, Connor came striding in. "So, this is your place, Dodge? Looks a bit run-down," he blurted. Rita asked, "Dodge? Who in the world is this?" Dodger, practically sweating, answered, "This is Connor. I met him while I was out." The young husky cross came up close to Rita's face and seductively grinned, "So you're Rita? Well, poopsie, the C man loves his ladies!"

He seductively growled at Rita, to which she pushed him aside and snapped, "I'm old enough to be your mother, you nasty little punk!" before walking off. "Love is blind..." Connor sighed, amorously. He then sauntered up to Francis, who was watching a production of *The Merchant of Venice* on TV and he was quoting the "Pound of Flesh" scene word for word, when a black and white form with blue eyes slumped onto the armchair next to him.

"Do you mind?!?" the bulldog barked, appalled. "Whatcha watching, tubby?" Connor saucily enquired. Francis, even more disgusted, replied, "It's Shakespeare, if you're interested." The younger dog scoffed, "Shakespeare? All that," in a high pitched, feminine voice, "*Romeo, o Romeo, where for art thou, Romeo?"* and in a deep, masculine voice, *"To be or not to be? That is the question,*" which only did more to irritate Francis. "How dare you, you little...!" He jumped off the armchair and tackled Connor, who ended up underneath Francis and playfully tipped the heavy bulldog off of him. "That all ya got?" Francis jumped on him again and the two dogs began wrestling on the floor. At this point, Tito began chanting, "Fight! Fight! Fight!" as the bulldog and mixed breed continued their skirmish, until Connor's bandana ended up getting ripped from his neck and Rita walked in asking, "What's going on?!"

Connor exclaimed, "Ya friend here ripped off my lucky scarf!" Francis defended himself with a cry of, "This little heathen was..." "I don't care! Just keep the noise down." No sooner had she left, Connor squared up to Francis. Francis began growling until Dodger got between them. "Boys! Calm down!" Francis scowled before storming off. As soon as he went back to his programme, Connor turned to Dodger. "Don't worry 'bout Frankie. He's not so bad once ya get to know him." "Yeah. Tomorrow is another day."

Chapter 3

The next morning, the gang and Connor went out into the city. "So, what's on the agenda for today, Dodge?" "Watch and learn, my young protege. Watch and learn". The gang approached a café, where several people were eating. "Cool. I've been feelin' kinda peckish." "Wait until they're distracted and then snatch what they're eating." Then, right on cue, a man sitting at one of the tables got up to go to the bathroom. By the time he returned, he just noticed Dodger and Connor running off with most of the food he had been eating. The two dogs ate their stolen food and laughed as the man began to scream abuse at them, while other customers watched on, appalled and others upped and left.
"Awww, man. He is *not*a happy camper." Connor asked, "So, Dodge? Whatcha wanna do? Got anything in mind?" "Well, later on I'm gonna visit my friend Oliver." "Not one I really know of." "He's a cat. Is that a problem?" Connor replied, "Not really. Not that I hate cats, just I'm not particularly friendly with 'em."