My Life in the Fights...

My name is Roger. I was a fight dog, the best of the best. I loved the fighting but I wasn't to fond of my Master.
I'll give you the rules of the fights:
1)Obey the Master
2)Fight or die
3)Be the first to get food or starve.

The feel of the fights...You wouldn't understand. Tearing flesh, hearing the cries of dying dogs and the shouts of men betting. One night I was in the fight of my life. I was pitted against a huge Pitt bull named Spitz. I was on a winning streak. Just then the men ran in all directions, scrabbling around. Spitz and I were the only ones left besides a few dogs forgotten by their masters. We were pulled apart and thrown in steel crates...Then darkness over took me.

I woke up in a strange place. It smelled of many dogs, cats and other animals. A human was touching my body. I growled instictfully and was surprised that I was not smacked in the head. When the human was done touching me, I was led to a huge room filled with other dogs. They started barking about their lives on the streets or in the fights. I saw a few dogs I had faced before. I was locked in a cage and a German Shepherd started talking to me.
"I feel bad for you, pup."
"What's it to you, old man?"
You're a fighter. You will not live much longer, I'm afraid."
"What do you mean?!"
"The fighters go into a small room and never come out."
"You're lying!"

The next day I found out that the old Shepherd was right.