Four, sixteen, twenty-four. The cans seemed to grow in multitude as he picked them up. He found that he had to unload them quite a few times into the dumpster outside the abandoned building. He was glad of it; he avoided abuses both physical and verbal by getting away from the man he had now dubbed as Can-Thrower.
Around his fourth round, he noticed that something was watching him from down the alleyway. On his sixth or so round, the creature was close enough to see. He stopped. If he wasn't mistaken, it was a puppy!
Oh, how he had always wanted a puppy! To feel the warm tongue of an infant dog on his face and to know it was his; a true joy indeed! Excited by his old memories (which were rather fuzzy. One lost memory among other things when they died), he crouched down, cooing to the puppy. It didn't seem to notice him at first, but then it casually padded up to him. His fingers brushed through the young dog's soft fur. Perhaps Can-Thrower would let him keep it, and he would hide it from Kevin. Then he could name it! And he could-
He blinked, almost whimpering as his lifeless blood poured over his hand, which was impaled by sharp teeth. He was dead, but it still hurt. The puppy kept its grip, watching him. He pulled his hand back. The puppy pulled back just as hard. This tug-of-war repeated, until he grabbed a can that had fallen out of his arms on the trip. The canine let go, scampering out of throwing-distance, before sitting. It licked its chops, before silently watching.
He felt himself grow angry. He had done nothing wrong to the puppy! It had come to him; what had it expected? He whipped the can at the puppy, the sound echoing as it bounced against the concrete, rolling to the traitorous fur ball.
The puppy didn't seem too happy about it. Suddenly, it bore its fangs, snarling quietly. Soon the snarl grew louder, and he began to doubt his actions. It was when the puppy charged at him that he let out a cry, stumbling backwards. As the puppy went into a frenzy on his leg, he began crying out.
"I'm sorry puppy! I'll- ACK - give you a biscuit if you let go! I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY-"
Though he didn't know quite how sorry he'd be.