The sound wasn't human. My job is simple. Empty the bins. Move on. For twenty years, it’s been the same grind, the same smells. You learn to ignore things. But this sound cut through the cold morning air. Thin. Desperate. It came again, from the back of the alley where the shadows stick to the brick. So I went. Behind the last bin, I saw him. A small tan pup, no bigger than my work boot. He was wired to the steel handle. The wire was so tight it had vanished into his fur, leaving a dark, wet lin