They called him a dog, but he was no dog.
Dogs would come later by thousands of years, a pathetic creature created by the enemy, Homo erectus.
He lived in a cave behind a high rock at the door, there with his mate. She was not so big, but she was big enough.
Nights they would stand at the cave entry where they could see firelight down the mountain and hear the distant sounds of Homo erectus. It was unsettling.
They slept at night in one another’s arms, or as close to that as possible due to their construction.
Actually, it was more that he would put his head on his outstretched legs, and she would be beside him, sometimes with her head atop his paws. It was warm.
They would kiss and embrace and speak softly, but not as you would imagine it. And they loved it.
Homo erectus would sometimes see them in the thick woods, and would hurl stones and spears, always missing because he was so very fast, like lightning. His mate too.
At times he would encounter a lone Homo erectus in the forest, and he would kill it, especially if it were a child. He did it because they had stoned his mother.
He hated for that.
The days passed hunting small animals and vermin. And the occasional Homo erectus that he would devour with a smile.
The nights he slept behind the rock at the cave door next to his mate, and it loved it so. Sometimes they would howl. Dogs would come far later, but his people lived on apart.
* * * *
(Years later: the sequel.)