Chapter Text
London, 1954
It's a rainy night in London. The sky was turning dark as the last glimpses of the sun had already gone down from the horizon, the sounds of engines roared, animals howling, and people chatting and walking could be heard all in one city, but all those sounds seemed to have, if not entirely, faded as the night was approaching.
There, A young man with blonde hair in his early 20s could be seen walking down the street of the city, wearing a hat and holding an umbrella to shield himself from the tiny rain droplets of London. He is a graduate in music; although he had been desperately trying to find jobs in this populous city of London, it seemed all his efforts were in vain.
"Hmmmph..." Roger sighed in disappointment. "I really need to get a job. The last interview was quite a disaster…" The blonde man muttered under his breath for a brief moment.
The blonde man took a glance at the watch on his wrist; the hour hand pointed to the number seven, while the minute hand pointed to the number five. His weary eyes then shot back up to the concrete pavement as he lowered his arm and continued walking.
Roger lives alone in a flat he has just bought. It's quite a mess, to say the least. unpacked boxes, newspapers, and sheet music scattered all over his room like a bird's nest.
The young man was not prepared for his new life at all. Not even his family is by his side during these times; they're all living in the countryside, just watching from afar and praying for him.
"So much for being the only graduate in this family... Tsk..." Roger scoffed to himself. "I wish I could've returned to the farm, to be honest." The young man shook his head as he looked past building after building, Pubs, Clothing Shops, Fashion Stores, Pet stores—A typical place that one would expect in the urban area.
"It's alright, Roger.. You'll be good eventually.. Everything will be alright." The blonde man spoke to himself, before sighing in frustration, "God.. This life is killing me from the inside.." He bit his lips as he resumed walking on his track.
Just as the young man was about to walk past another street in London, he could hear the sound of something yelping; Loud enough to trigger the man's hearing. The blonde man immediately froze in place as he turned to his left.
"Hm?" Roger's first reaction was to turn to the source of the sound; There it is, a dark alley uncovered by the lamp. He could barely tell what was inside the shady street. He seemed to have no idea what it was, but something in his mind, an instinct, tells him to go out of his way and find it, even if he knows that he shouldn't.
The young man contemplated for a moment, "Perhaps it's just.. a rat?" He raised his eyebrow in suspicion. Then, a noise came through again for the second time.
This time, A high-pitched cry from a mammal of some sort. However, it does not sound like any rats he had ever heard before.
"...Weird.." The man confirmed his suspicion. His eyes stared blankly at the darkness inside that alley
Then, another cry was heard from the alley again for the third time; this time, it was constant, as if the creature inside that street was desperately calling for help.
Should I check them out? What if it's just a rat? That would be a waste of time, wouldn't it? Roger's mind became bogged with curiosity as his gaze was still on the darkness inside that alley.
Then, as curiosity got the better of him, the young man decided to act.
The man reached his hand inside his pocket, taking out a lighter as he opened the lid, flicking it on as the flame ignited under an umbrella that shielded it from rain droplets. His hand gripping it firmly against his palm.
The alley was tight and narrow, barely a meter and a half wide. Roger slowly made his way inside as he held the lighter inside the umbrella. Upon getting closer to the noise, He began to hear another noise, this time, a bark from an aggressive dog, which triggered the man's nervousness.
"What could it be..?"
Just as Roger inched closer and closer, He could hear the noises become closer and cleaner the more he moved.
Then, Roger froze, his eyes looking down to the cold concrete ground, which is where the sound came from.
A puppy.
Dalmatian, it seems.
Then, next to it, a stray dog stares deep into the young puppy's souls, as if it will tear the spotted puppies apart in a second.
"Shoo! Shoo!" Roger stomped his boot against the concrete, his right hand swaying the umbrella in the direction of the brown dog, which frightened the stray dog, which was smaller than Roger, into running away in panic.
"Phew..." Roger sighed in relief as the stray dog ran away from the area. "Glad that thing did not bite me." The blonde man then looked down at the crying puppy, which seemed to have a few bruised marks from the stray; luckily, it did not have any bite marks.
"Little one.. are you alright?" Roger said to the puppy as he put the lighter back into his pocket before reaching his hand to the puppy gently, just as he picked it up from the cold concrete ground, which, upon closer inspection, seemed to be a dalmatian puppy.
"Where are your parents…?" Roger took a look around the narrow alley; there was no way that a dog would leave one of its puppies alone in the middle of the rainy night. There were no signs of other puppies around either.
"You're a dalmatian..." The blonde man looked into the puppy's face, and the puppy shot a glance back at him in confusion and anxiety.
"Who could've left you here?" The young man wondered. A Dalmatian puppy was left on the streets of London, alone, without its parents nearby, a strange sight for the man to observe.
The alley was cold; had Roger not wandered into the alley, this puppy wouldn't have survived in the streets of London. Even Roger could've felt the cool temperature coming from the constant weather.
"It's cold out here..." The man thought briefly, his eyes looking into the alley once again, making sure that he was alone in the street, with a little puppy he had just picked up.
The puppy's gleaming eyes stared at Roger, its wet fur drenched in mud and dirt, a sight that touched Roger's heart deeply, and even he couldn't help but feel sympathy for the lone puppy.
The man sighed upon seeing this. "Seems like I've got to take you back home, boy," Roger said as he stepped out of the alley with a careful look, as he softly snuck the puppy into his coat's pocket, making sure that it could feel the warmth from inside his Cotton Coat.
Roger looked around for a moment, seeing no one. The man then continued walking under the guidance of the light poles.
The streets of London were already empty by the time Roger had rescued this stray dalmatian puppy. Only a few cars were seen roaming around the roads of London; it's such a strange sight for an unemployed young Roger.
"It's alright, boy. I'll take you home. You'll be safe..." Roger said to the puppy, knowing it well that a puppy would not understand the situation better than a human.
The puppy looked at the young man who had rescued it from the cold alley with confusion. The figure it saw was unrecognized, not knowing what would happen next.
Roger looked into the puppy's eyes. "I won't hurt you." The man reassured the stray canine before continuing his journey back home.
"There it is..." Roger spoke as he recognized the familiar buildings; they're now at the Radcliffe's Flat.
Roger walked to the front door of his building; just as he inserted a key into the doorknob, pushing the door open as he entered his house.
The puppy could feel a sense of warmth and hospitality, contrary to the rain outside.
The young man placed down his umbrella at the front door before closing it, just as he headed upstairs for the bathroom.
There, he takes out a small towel, rinsing it with warm water from the sink as he begins to gently rub it against the puppy's fur, cleaning the bruise marks and dirt off its skin.
The puppy let out a squeaking cry, not knowing that it had been rescued by a young musician; it still yearns for its mother.
"Easy, easy... alright?" Roger tried to communicate with the young canine, holding the puppy in his arms as he gently laid it down in a basket full of warm towels.
"Okay... Now what do I need...?" Roger thought to himself, just before the realization hit: he needed puppy milk to feed this little puppy, a warm one, indeed.
"Right... puppy milk... Wait..." The man turned to look at the clock, which was hanging on the wall in his room.
The hour hand was just a few inches away from the number 8, while the minute hand was pointing at 10.
The time was 19:50
"I've got to be quick... the store closes at 8... Uh... Stay here, young boy." Roger said to the puppy, which was still crying and yelping, yearning for its mother's milk.
Roger quickly rushed downstairs, grabbing his coat while completely ignoring the umbrella next to the front door. As he unlocks the door, he bolts towards the nearest pet store in a hurry.
"Please don't close... Please don't close..." Roger mumbled to himself, his body sprinting like an athlete running a race amidst the rain.
Thankfully, the store was not closed, and Roger managed to get a package of puppy milk just in time. He came back to his home, his wet clothes drenched in rain.
The young man looked at the package he was holding; there were instructions written on the side of it, including a manual on how to feed the puppy properly.
"Great, now what...?" Roger thought to himself just before he got back to his senses. He rushed to open the package, taking out a formula container from it, before striking it open.
Roger poured the milk formula into a small bottle he had bought at the store, then added warm water. The young man then shook the bottle for a while to let the powder dissolve while reading the instructions written on the package.
"There you are, boy; I've got you something you could drink..." Roger slowly approached the puppy, his hand holding the puppy's belly as he slowly and gently fed the milk bottle to the puppy's mouth as it began drinking the milk from the container with happiness, which brought a smile to the man's face.
"...That was worth it." Roger let out a smile and a sigh of relief. "Well, I guess you've got to stay with me now, young boy." The man continued feeding the puppy until it was full; shortly before falling asleep, the flat was now quiet, with nothing but the sounds of rain falling from outside his flat.
The blonde man looked at the sleeping puppy with happiness; this was his first time having a puppy in his life. Perhaps this puppy could be his best friend during the darkest time of his life.
"You're safe, boy, you're safe here," Roger softly spoke, his hand gently touching the puppy's head; its soft fur even touched the young man's heart further, despite his failure to secure a job at the interview today.
"Hmppphhh..." Roger sighed, "At least I've got someone to stay with me now... probably not talkative, but... it still warms my heart."
Roger let out a slight chuckle to himself. His eyes glanced at the puppy that was sleeping right in front of him.
Roger then stood up from the ground, stretching his arms and his back as he walked to the piano located next to his bed.
There, he makes a random tune with his fingers and his piano; he seems to be thinking of something, perhaps a name for his puppy.
"Now, what do I have to do with him...?" A young, unemployed man like him wouldn't survive living alone by himself, let alone adopting a dalmatian, a very energetic breed of dog.
"Calm down, Roger... you've got to live through this. At least you've got someone to be with; isn't that great?" The man spoke to himself.
Roger paused for a moment, his hand reaching for a cigarette package placed on the piano.
"Might buy a pipe later.." He sighed before sticking a cigarette between his lips, flickering the lighter on as he ignited the cigarette, before exhaling the smoke from his mouth.
"Much Better.. Now.." The young man was quite calmer than before, his mind going to another topic.
"Hmpphh... What should I call him?" Roger thought for a moment, his eyes still fixed on the rainy streets of London outside the window.
"Bingo...? Nah, it's too... cliché, Bongo... Peter... Er..." Roger shook his head, rejecting another niche name for his newly adopted puppy.
The man wondered, he wants a name that no one has used before, for his newly found friend, a roommate for Roger, it seems.
.
"Hm.." Then, an idea came to his mind, like a shining light bulb, a unique one, it seems, a name that would change his life. Forever...
.
Roger looked down at the resting puppy and smiled, just as he spoke up
.
.
"Welcome home, Pongo..."