[ WP ] A homeless person is about to die . Write about it from the perspective of his/her dog

He has been coughing, my friend has, and his chest jolts against mine. His hand withdraws from the warm comfort of my deep fur as he covers his mouth to protect the invisible that wander the empty lot, the invisible folk that haunt his days. 
 
 The coughing fit subsides and I feel my friend's chilly hand bury itself in my undercoat and long fingernails scratch me gently along my shoulder blades. My tail flops against the pavement a few times and I curl up closer to my friend. 
 
 His eyes are closed, and his mouth hangs open. 
 
 `` Buddy...'' he whispers. 
 
 I stand up and when I do, I look my friend full in the face. He coughs again. I whine with concern and lick his face. 
 
 `` Buddy... such a good dog...'' I am a sturdy Chow mix, far too big to be a lap dog. But to hear my name is an invitation to snuggle close. The October winds are picking up and I seek warmth. 
 
 My friend coughs but no longer brings his hand to his face. Spittle flies, over and over. He is hot, hot like a June sidewalk, flushed pink under the grime on his forehead and under the yellowish beard along his jaw. His nose is mottled blue, and swollen. 
 
 It is the face of my best friend and I am happy to sit with him. 
 
 The evening comes and he does not wake. The scent of hotdogs from a vending cart down the block tempts me, but I do not move. He is my friend. 
 
 The hotdog cart must have rolled away. The traffic on the street slows and the darkness hides us, my friend and me. The hand that stroked my fur is holding me in his lap. 
 
 For awhile, his arm is gentle but my spine begins to ache from the pressure. But still I stay, knowing that tomorrow will find us walking to benches and trash cans in search of edible bits. 
 
 The night grows cold and I curl my tail around my nose as I rest with my friend. 
 
 The sound of a car door slamming wakes me. I hear radios and the bright flashing lights disorient me. 
 
 Two men come towards us. I do not growl or attack. My friend showed me nothing but love and from him I learned to trust all people. My tail thumps in greeting and I jump to my feet as I smell fat and sugar. 
 
 One gives me a bit of the doughnut as he says Good boy, what a good boy, good dog. 
 I eat and look for more while a leash is slipped around my neck. I look behind me to see my friend being wheeled into the back of a truck, just as I am being lifted onto a truck, a different one. One without sheets or a bed. 
 
 The men shake their heads and say it is a shame, such a shame nobody saw him earlier. 
 
 They secure the latch on my cage as I whine. The door closes and I am confused and friendless.
