Atomic CritterS
Volume I | Part I
Chapter 4: “The Trails”
The trails behind Sunrise Sanctuary
wound through a stand of old trees that filtered the afternoon light into soft, broken ribbons. Leaves rustled overhead, still green but edged with the first hints of gold. The air smelled of rain and pine sap and damp earth, the kind of clean that suggested things could always be put back the way they belonged.
They couldn’t.
Coop had found a wrapper.
“Coop—no,” Kagen said, already too late.
The wrapper vanished into Coop’s mouth with the confidence of a creature who had never once experienced consequences.
Renji laughed. “Look at him. He’s so proud.”
Coop barked sharply and spun in a tight circle, tail whipping like a banner announcing victory.
“That’s litter,” Kagen said, holding up the trash bag. “We’re collecting it. Not feeding it to him.”
Renji crouched. “He’s helping.”
Coop immediately dropped the soggy wrapper at Renji’s feet and stared up at him, waiting.
Renji hesitated. “…Okay. He’s helping wrong.”
Kagen reached for the wrapper.
Coop lunged—not aggressive, just enthusiastic—and barked, hopping sideways like this was all part of a game he’d invented.
“No,” Kagen said, firmer now. “That’s not a game.”
Coop’s tail wagged harder.
Renji stood, tore a strip of cardboard from a flattened box, and tossed it lightly down the trail. “Here. This one’s safe.”
Coop bolted after it.
“Renji,” Kagen said carefully, “you’re reinforcing the behavior.”
Renji shrugged. “I’m redirecting it.”
“You’re bribing him.”
“I’m encouraging joy.”
Coop returned with the cardboard clamped proudly in his teeth, eyes bright, tail sweeping dirt into the air. He barked again—louder this time.
Renji clapped. Coop barked louder.
Kagen closed his eyes for a second. “He’s not going to learn.”
Renji smiled. “He already has. Trash equals attention.”
“That’s the problem.”
Coop dropped the cardboard at Kagen’s feet and sat. Perfect posture. Tail still wagging.
Kagen blinked.
“…See?” Renji said gently. “He knows the difference.”
Coop immediately picked the cardboard back up and tried to eat it.
“Coop,” Kagen said, pointing to the bag. “Trash goes in here.”
Coop tilted his head, barked once, and grabbed the bag instead.
Renji laughed hard enough to lean against a tree. “I don’t see the issue. He’s enthusiastic. He’s engaged. He’s alive.”
Kagen took the bag back before it could be destroyed. “He’s going to choke on something one day.”
Coop rolled onto his back and barked upside down.
Renji crouched beside him. “You’re dramatic.”
Kagen watched them. His voice softened—not kindly, but steadily. “Rules keep things running.”
Renji met his eyes. “Joy keeps people coming back.”
Coop popped back onto his feet and sprinted down the trail toward something new and probably edible.
Renji sighed fondly. “I’ll get him.”
Kagen nodded. “I know.”
As Renji jogged off, Kagen tied the trash bag closed, retightening a knot he’d already secured once.
“…We’re never going to agree on that dog,” he muttered.
From down the trail, Renji called back, “That’s okay!”
Coop barked triumphantly.
