The Canis Flu

2031 --- “I guess dogs’ mouths aren’t cleaner than humans’, after all,” Leo joked to her, trying to provoke some sort of a verbal response.

She walked past him, in the same way attractive women casually evaded unappealing men long before the pandemic. Not that Leo, 22 years of age, six feet tall, and wiry, was unattractive. In fact, before the long, scraggly beard, and, more importantly, before the Canis Flu, Leo had enjoyed a handful of romantic conquests. Perhaps it was his hope for long overdue romance, or, perhaps more practically, the fate of humanity, that caused Leo to open his heavily barricaded front door for her in the first place.

In any event, as she strolled into his 40,000 square foot fortress, formerly a supermarket, the weight of the moment set in. This captivating woman (and it wasn’t just because she was the first live one he had seen in years) was the only person Leo had ever let inside. Dressed in a white, V-neck T-Shirt and lightwash denim shorts, with chocolate cherry brown hair in a ponytail, and a golden, heart-shaped locket around her neck, she was a true post-apocalyptic American girl. Although Leo assumed she was about 30, she was actually only 24, just 16 months older than Leo. As the questions about her backstory and, more importantly, her present intentions, whizzed through Leo’s head, he realized he didn’t catch her name.

“I’m sorry, what’s your name?” he hollered, knowing full well she would not answer. And so, as Leo stood there, rather pathetically, she walked through the only aisle of the store still stocked with any of its original provisions – Aisle 5: Pet Food.

***

Of the 4.4 million that remain as of this writing, every person over the age of 10 can tell you – with remarkable precision – where they were when they first learned about the Canis Flu. For Leo, it was when he came downstairs to find his Shiba Inu, Teddy, running between his parents’ fresh corpses on the living room floor. He tried to call 9-1-1, but tens of millions of Americans were jamming cell networks across the country making similar pleas for emergency help. With no one to call, Leo ran outside. There, lying motionless in his driveway, was his neighbor, Clay, with his German Shephard, Dodger, pawing at him as if to say, “wake up!” Upon seeing Leo, the otherwise friendly dog made it clear, with a series of snarling growls, that Leo should not come any closer to Clay’s still-warm body.

***

That is not to say the Canis Flu made friendly dogs ferocious, at least not pathologically speaking. In fact, the most ironic part of the disease is that it is entirely asymptomatic in the dogs who transmit it. It is, of course, just as ill-fated that the virus, which may well eradicate the human race when it’s all said and done, originated in an animal once referred to as “man’s best friend.” Just a matter of hours was all it took to turn the canine’s greatest asset – their indiscriminate love for people – into a literal kiss of death. And the dogs, the poor things, didn’t have the first idea.

The virus first surfaced in Southern France in February of 2025. Within days, it was executing full towns across Europe like a four-legged firing squad. The disease killed too efficiently to meaningfully study it, but we do know that – unlike the coronavirus that preceded it – it is always deadly. Once its receptors bind to your cells, your airway instantaneously becomes swollen, causing you to asphyxiate and perish.

Also unlike with Covid-19, there were no “Canis-deniers.” Canis was simply undeniable. Swiftly, bipartisanly, and utterly ineffectively, living world leaders did their best to combat the pandemic. In the United States, for example, the 92 remaining members of Congress unanimously passed the so-called Canine Euthanization and Humankind Preservation Act, which called for the “immediate and mandatory euthanization of all living canine species by all adult individuals by any means necessary.”

Trying to kill the dogs was particularly challenging as Americans lamented the loss of some 29 percent of their firearms, which came as part of a federal “buyback” program in Joe Biden’s long-awaited 2023 gun control bill, his signature legislative achievement before ceding the Democratic ticket to Kamala Harris, who then lost the 2024 general election to Donald Trump. Trump, who historically did not have a dog during either of his presidencies, died from the Canis Flu one month after retaking office. Marshall Law remained in effect, not that anybody was around to enforce it.

***

When Leo first learned that the virus killing everyone was transmitted by dogs, he had Teddy in tow. He read about it on a bulletin posted on a telephone pole, on Pinal County, Arizona letterhead, advising readers as follows:

“Although we do not have all of the details yet, we are informed and therefore believe that the unprecedented rash of sudden deaths plaguing our community and others around the world is due to a lethal virus being transmitted by dogs. This virus is extremely deadly. You are legally required to stay in your homes and away from dogs at all costs.”

The bulletin, which was signed by “Your Government,” was an extraordinary regression to such a simplistic mode of communication when, just a day prior, the 24-hour news cycle and boundless information pit that was the Internet were running at full force.

Leo looked down at Teddy. He didn’t seem deadly. In fact, the little fucker was smiling, like happy dogs do, and didn’t seem to have any lasting discomfort over the fact that he had recently witnessed his two primary caregivers drop dead. Leo wondered how he was supposed to comply with the new law of the land. Was he to ditch Teddy in the streets, where Teddy could infect others, or take Teddy home, where Teddy could infect him? Feeling just fine, Leo decided to walk Teddy back to the house, where he could quarantine until more information came out.

By day three, although the phone and Internet remained down, Leo found a working TV broadcast, which informed him that the global pandemic was known as the “Canis Flu,” spread exclusively to humans by canines. If you didn’t die from it right away, it was believed, you were immune. But immunity was the overwhelming exception. The global death toll, reporters said, was then over a billion. By day six, the one working television station, like all the others, cut to a grey fuzz.

With food dwindling, Leo knew he would need to leave home. But what to do about Teddy, who had remained blissfully ignorant of his small role in the ravishing of mankind? Ultimately, Leo decided the hound must stay behind. To prevent Teddy from following him out the door, Leo ripped open a five-gallon bag of kibble and dumped a few bowls’ worth on the ground, leaving the open bag nearby. With Teddy munching away off the kitchen floor, assuming he’d just hit the doggy jackpot, Leo left the only house he’d ever lived in and never came back.

The store Leo claimed, an old Giant, was the perfect place to set up shop. For instance, although the shelves had long been looted, there was a trove of non-perishables in the back room when Leo first arrived. Also, the building was brick, with very few doors and windows to secure. Of the three doors, Leo only left the front door semi-functional. To that end, he fashioned one very large door out of seven smaller doors he found at an apartment building. As a lock, he placed large pieces of lumber horizontally across the door into metal braces mounted to the wall on either side of it. Leo situated the larger door so that he could easily screen would-be visitors through any of the component doors’ mail slots, kind of like he was running a private, underground club for one.

***

Making her way through the store, Leo’s mystery guest settled on a stack of pallets in the back right corner of the building, formerly the fresh fish section, with an old Traveler’s Digest magazine. To Leo, this resolved any doubt that she spoke English, as she read through the magazine, her eyes darting left to right. Rather than try to engage her in conversation, Leo simply sat on a nearby pallet stack and watched her, in part as a security measure and in part to further admire her.

Occasionally, they would lock eyes, and every time they did, the same thing would happen: Leo would get hard. This wasn’t just the feeling of blood rushing to his nethers, like when classmates used to flirt with him, this was a full-on spear, a much harder hard-on than Leo was used to. This was, simply put, a different dick. Certainly not the type he could tuck up in his waistband, like the guys used to do. Eventually, no matter how he sat or contorted himself, his boner became impossible to hide.

For the first time, and clearly in response to Leo’s arousal, she broke from her circumspect demeanor and smiled. Instead of smiling back, Leo blushed with boyish embarrassment, triggering in her what was, from Leo’s perspective, the most charming laughter he’d ever seen or heard. At this point, it was almost cartoonish when, upon seeing her delightful giggle, Leo’s already stiff dick shot out what seemed like another inch, rendering the cotton on Leo’s black sweatpants taut to the point of, Leo feared, ripping at the seams.

Leo couldn’t help but to laugh, himself.

“Do you want dinner?” he asked, as if that would somehow deflect her attention from his erection.

Still smiling and chuckling, she warmly nodded in the affirmative.

And so there they were, Leo and the stranger, quietly sitting on their pallets, Leo’s unrelenting penis sticking up straight as ever, eating cold white bean soup and Planters mixed nuts.

When they were done, she grabbed the empty soup cans and plastic bags and brought them to a corner where Leo had been storing his garbage.

When she returned, Leo, still seated on the pallets, joked, “Next time you can cook and I’ll do the dishes.”

Ignoring his quip, she walked closer, now straddling him. This was the closest he had been to her, and, for the first time, he noticed she was quite dirty. Her otherwise unblemished skin had a layer of blackish dirt on it. Her white, V-neck T-shirt was stained and dingy. Her denim shorts were tattered and filled with holes. The one exception was around her neck, the golden, heart-shaped locket, which still appeared completely untarnished.

She removed her t-shirt in the way only females do, by crossing her arms downward before pulling it off. Leo never understood why women did it this way, but he always found it sexy. Reaching behind her back, she unclasped her bra, revealing breasts that were completely spared of the dirt coating that otherwise permeated her skin. Leo likened this to her having tan lines, which he also found quite sexy. What remained on her upper half was only a hair tie, holding her ponytail, and, of course, the golden, heart-shaped locket, standing out even more vividly against her nude chest than when she was wearing a top.

Lowering her body toward his, the necklace dangled in his face and bounced off his nose and lips. She slowly pushed him down into a supine position, motioning for him to uncross his legs.

“You never told me your name,” he said.

In response to this, she began to howl, enduringly and overpoweringly, like a husky might when an ambulance drives by. Hovering her chin above his forehead, assiduously avoiding eye contact, with her clean tits and the golden locket still dangling in Leo’s face, she howled and howled, stopping only to briefly utter what were, in fact, her only words since arriving at the compound:

“Does it really matter?”