<strong>CANDY, Dog cages</strong><br/><br/>I froze, my paws resting over my new dog ears. A voice, a female voice. Someone who spoke proper English. At last a warden! My brow furrowed as she spoke. Caning? Threats? Was this how they controlled the dogs in the pounds? But then, how would the dogs understand what she was threatening? Maybe just the tone of her voice was enough to shut an unruly dog up. But I'd been speaking as well- she must have heard me speak, and known something was up. Perhaps she'd not heard me over the racket I was making as I bashed my paws against the front of the cage... Her accent as well... it wasn't American. Something European? I couldn't quite place it.  Many more questions floated into my mind, all wanting answers, but they would have to wait. I needed to get out of here before I was driven mad.<br/><br/><strong>"Hey, I'm not an animal, there must have been a mistake at the processing stage!"</strong>I called out, trying to crane my neck around to look at her in the dim light.<strong>"My father pays the collection squads, I was picked up by accident!"</strong>There was little point in lying. Rich parents paying protection money to safeguard their children wasn't considered unusual or even particularly illegal anymore. Besides, the last thing I wanted was to be taken for a person who couldn't afford to pay off the squads and be released from the cage only to be carted off to complete the procedure. In this day and age if you were poor and failed to have the right links, there was no chance of escape.