Story of the 流浪狗 hotel (stray dog hotel)
We found them held together by umbrellas and soggy cardboard; between the highrises and the lake park in China. I was able to craft together a shelter from various urban detritus: a computer desk nearby for the foundational framework; polystyrene boxes for the insulation, and an IKEA rug taken from my living room which provided the pièce de résistance. Although there was a happy accident of feng shui in its layout, there was little time, or need, for formal aesthetic concerns. This wasn't some trans species art project, it was a necessary disruption of discomfort for a discarded mum and her litter.
Later, they did get a hand painted sign by the entrance (in gold, no less!) stating; '流浪狗 hotel' (stray dog hotel). Yeah, yeah, I'm not crazy, I know they can't read (probably). Especially with my writing; no, this was more for the humanoids gawping by. The pad needed to look like a respectable dumpsite at least, in order to avoid negative attention.
She had three offspring; they took them away one-by-one. Too soon. But this was better than not at all; I guess, who knows. I don't really want to know. The pure-bred-looking white one was first, obviously. Ironically, he hated being touched, whereas the mangy mum developed a real affection for me. I just couldn't keep them, you see, I was an alien and a temporary resident myself.
I wasn't the only one to care for them though. There remained a steady supply of blankets, and one time I arrived to find a fancy-looking food dispenser arranged in the corner. It only took a couple of days before it was puppy-pawed apart though.
Eventually, she was left alone again and the community supplies petered out with the cuteness of it all. One drizzly day I delivered her some take away chicken. It was hot and wet and greasy and needed breaking up. She had a morose expression; like someone who'd just had her children taken away from her. Because she had, of course. The following day the hotel was evacuated, and not long after, that disappeared too. All that remained of our blossoming twelve days together was a clump of chewed up flowers, and the wafty outline of piss stained blankets.