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nn5n: scp-2420 A Good Dog
UnknownSCP-2420 A Good DogRate: 151

A picture of SCP-2420's pet taken before its death.

Item #: SCP-2420

Object Class: Neutralized

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-2420 is currently being held in the low-security humanoid containment wing at Site 213. As of Incident-2420-A, all anomalous activity exhibited by SCP-2420 has been observed to be neutralized. Possible permanent containment, despite cessation of all anomalous activity, is being reviewed by the Ethics Committee.

SCP-2420 is to be held in a humanoid containment cell in a specialized containment wing at Site-213. Due to SCP-2420's severe depression, it is to be administered Bupropion and Citalopram twice daily with Alprazolam administered as needed. SCP-2420 is allowed to create an instance of SCP-2420-1 twice a week for three hours at a time, to be lengthened or lessened dependent on cooperation and the current mental state of SCP-2420. Outside of monitored contact with SCP-2420-1, all domesticated dogs (or Canis lupus familiaris) are to be kept outside of SCP-2420's awareness.

A pool of domesticated dogs are to be on hand at Foundation kennels to be used as SCP-2420-1 instances on a rotating basis. Former instances of SCP-2420-1 maintain no anomalous traits and can be adopted by Site 213 personnel or reintegrated into nearby animal shelters.

Testing of SCP-2420 has been discontinued. Any recommendations for possible resumed testing are to be brought before Researcher Hydock.

Description: SCP-2420 was a human (formerly John █████) who created instances of SCP-2420-1, which took the appearance and memories of the former's pet dog, out of domesticated dogs (or Canis lupus familiaris). The effects occurred whenever SCP-2420 was made aware of any dog or any dog was made aware of SCP-2420.

Repeated testing showed that only domesticated dogs were affected, with wolves, coyotes, and other canids being immune to the anomalous effects. Dogs of any size would become an instance of SCP-2420-1 and show no pain in their transformation, aside from a general confusion found when brought outside of SCP-2420's influence.

SCP-2420 showed no anomalous effects beyond its ability to create instances of SCP-2420-1. Testing showed no upward limit on the number of instances of SCP-2420-1 that could exist at a time.

SCP-2420-1 instances were completely invulnerable to any form of damage. Attempts at DNA testing were rendered void when it was discovered that nothing could cut SCP-2420-1's fur. Any other tests into the indestructibility of SCP-2420-1 were deemed unnecessary, partly due to the fragile nature of SCP-2420's mental state. While SCP-2420-1 instances showed no need for water or food, the instances would eat whatever was presented to them, with various poisons showing no effect. Former instances of SCP-2420-1 that were dissected after being fed showed no sign of having recently ingested any food.

Despite SCP-2420-1 instances taking the form of SCP-2420's border terrier, photographs and videos of SCP-2420-1 consistently displayed the original body of the dog in question. This resulted in physical discomfort and mental distress regarding certain photos and videos, namely one showing St. Bernards being able to fit through a small aperture, but the images themselves maintained no otherwise anomalous effect.

[This is the first interview to take place after SCP-2420's admittance into Site 213.]

Dr. Hydock: Good morning, SCP-2420. I've heard you've had some trouble sleeping?

SCP-2420: Xanax.

Dr. Hydock: Pardon me?

SCP-2420: Anxious. Helps me sleep. Get me some, I guess. Also turn up the air-conditioning.

Dr. Hydock: Absolutely. However, I am not merely here to see to your mental and physical state. As I'm sure you may have guessed, I'd like to hear about your relationship with your pet before she was deceased.

SCP-2420: Mattie.

Dr. Hydock: Pard—

SCP-2420: Ma'am, you can call me whatever you want, but she has a name. It's Mattie. Short for Matilda. Her full name is Matilda May. Matilda May █████, I guess.

Dr. Hydock: Duly noted. But please, tell about Mattie.

SCP-2420: Well, uh, she was my dog. I guess. I got her from, um, a neighbor. They're not, like, a breeder. But they had a Border Terrier meet another Border Terrier, and they were looking to, uh, give away puppies. I guess. And I was lonely. My parents died. But, I guess you know that. They left me a house, but it's fucked up lonely to be the only one living in some dead people's house, you know?

Dr. Hydock: Mhm.

SCP-2420: I came to their house. Their backyard, uh, really. And they had all the puppies, kind of, you know, all meshed up. I mean, in some, uh, cage. Hey, can we turn a fan on? It's really hot. Like it's really hot. [SCP-2420 begins to hyperventilate and hug its chest.] Hard to breathe.

Dr. Hydock: Certainly, SCP-2420, but please, calm down. I promise, I'm not here to hurt you. I just want to hear your relation with the- uh, with Mattie. You were just telling me about the day you chose her from her litter?

SCP-2420: Okay. Okay. I saw her, yeah. She wasn't the biggest, but I, uh, ha, noticed her right away. She was a bit of a bully. She was playing, yeah, but you got the sense she didn't have patience for the other dogs. They bothered her, and she wanted them to know it. And when I came over, she was the last to come see me. The others, they just jumped up, trying to get me, wanting attention, wanting to be picked up. But she just sat down, and she stared at me for a good bit. I stared back. It was weird, I guess, but I felt like she was sizing me up. She came over, real confident, kind of pushed aside her brothers and sisters, and I held my hand out to her. She clamped down on my hand. But not hard. It wasn't mean. She was never mean. Not to me. And from then, uh, I guess I knew I had to get her.

Dr. Hydock: Did she ever exhibit any anomalous abilities? For that matter, before this, have you ever been able to do something that, to be blunt, SCP-2420, felt impossible?

SCP-2420: If I thought I was magic, I don't think I would've been a telemarketer. Living in my parents' house. And Mattie? No. Mattie was definitely not, uh, magic. I mean, shit, she was afraid of rainstorms. She thought the vacuum cleaner was a real animal. She was, uh, a smart dog, though. Always seemed to be more person than dog, yeah, but not magic. I always thought, you know, she could learn a bunch of tricks if she wanted, but she clearly had no interest. Mere tricks were beneath her. She carried herself like a little queen. I guess.

Dr. Hydock: So nothing strange in her life had ever led you to believe that she could be capable of this kind of anomaly?

SCP-2420: She was normal. I mean, like I said, she wasn't really a big fan of other dogs, but she'd play with them. It was always like, you know, they were beneath her. But she'd chase 'em. She was, uh, real territorial. Mattie killed a couple, um, birds and stuff. A squirrel once, because it got caught up in a fence. Never thought she'd ever catch one. Shit, you should've seen her. Blood all over her muzzle. So damn proud of herself.


SCP-2420: But, uh, I guess you wanna hear about how she died, right?

Dr. Hydock: That would be quite helpful, SCP-2420.

SCP-2420: Even that was, I guess, sadly normal. I was takin' her for a walk. She always loved walks. I mean, shit, I guess all dogs like walks, but she liked 'em a lot more. I don't know. Maybe that's crazy. But we were walking, uh, near the street, and uh, well, ha, can we turn up the air-conditioning? Just a little bit?

Dr. Hydock: Certainly. If you'd rather not talk about this right now, we could discuss it another time.

SCP-2420: No, I'm fine. I guess she, uh, didn't die after all, right? [SCP-2420 laughs then coughs.] A car hit her. I guess I wasn't paying attention. People said I was lucky I didn't get hit, but I'd rather've gotten hit. Maybe I wouldn't've died. Squished her down the middle. It was horrible. Person driving the car was some teen girl. Wasn't her fault. I was jaywalking. She was young. Wasn't her fault. I knew her mother. She lived on the street. But, I couldn't stop crying. There she was. Waltzing Matilda May, there she fucking was, and she was dead. Bleeding everywhere. I took her in my arms. She wasn't breathing. I didn't get to be there for her last breath. I think she died when I was crying, when I was stunned by all the, the shit.

Dr. Hydock: And what was done with the body?

SCP-2420: I took her. I walked her. It wasn't that far. Said I was in shock, but I knew what I was doing. I got a shovel from my garage. My dad's shovel. I got her favorite blanket. Guess it was my blanket, really. A big, uh, green one. She always loved it. It was mine, but it may as well have been hers. She was more comfortable with it than anyone else could have been, you know? You give a dog a blanket, and you swear, no human could ever be so cozy. So I wrapped her up. All broken. God, she was so small. I dug a hole. In the middle of my backyard. There was a spot where the shade of the trees didn't reach. She'd lay there. Waltzing Matilda May I Have This Dance. That's what I named her after. You know, the song. I buried her. She should, uh, still be there. You guys can check it out. No one moved it.

Dr. Hydock: Certainly, SCP-2420. Thank you for your cooperation. If you want to stop now, I would certainly understand. It has been a tough day for you.

SCP-2420: No. It's fine. There's only a little bit more anyway. Can I, can I, uh, continue?

Dr. Hydock: Absolutely.

SCP-2420: I was going to kill myself, the day I noticed that she was, uh, everywhere dogs were. Just a normal walk. But I was going to, uh, jump off a bridge. I don't know if I really was gonna, to be honest, ma'am. But it felt like I was gonna. It felt right. But, things were weird. I never noticed so many Border Terriers in my life. The neighbors, all of 'em, identical, and they looked just like Mattie. I thought I was losing it. They were trying to get under the gate, trying to climb up it, barking at me, carrying on. I, uh, didn't notice anything was weird until I got near the dog park.

Dr. Hydock: And that's where we found you, correct?

SCP-2420: Ha, yeah. I guess. That's where you all found me. I just, I don't know why I got there. Wasn't even near the bridge. Wasn't even all that close. I think I just wanted to see some. Before I died. They were always so nice. Dogs. But, they were all Border Terriers. And they were all running to me. So many of them. And they all, well, they all stopped in front of me. Owners were yelling. People were, uh, screaming. They were slipping out of collars that had gotten too big. They were, uh, breaking free from everything. To come to me. And they encircled me. They were all her. I knew it immediately. They were all her. One walked up to me, and it bit my hand. Gentle. And that's when I fainted. Then, well, I'm here.

Dr. Hydock: Excellent. Thank you very much for your cooperation. Is there anything you need before this is concluded?

SCP-2420: Uh, yeah. Just one. Just one thing.

Dr. Hydock: Yes?

SCP-2420: Does it hurt them? Does what she does hurt them? I heard they stop being her when I'm not there. Are they okay?

Dr. Hydock: Yes. When they're not instances of SC—I mean, when they cease to be Mattie, there is no pain in the switch. Either to or from. None of the dogs have exhibited any signs, anomalous or not, of being in any way affected by Mattie and your effect.

SCP-2420: And you. You're not going to hurt them?

Dr. Hydock: Pardon me?

SCP-2420: Listen, I've seen ET. I'm not stupid. You're going to dissect them. Dissect her maybe. And I'm telling you. Please don't. Please don't hurt a dog because of me. I beg of you.

Dr. Hydock: I will, I will see what I can do, SCP-2420. Once again, thank you.

SCP-2420: Will I get to see her again?

Dr. Hydock: Visiting times can certainly be arranged. Especially for testing purposes.

SCP-2420: Thank you. I miss her so much. I didn't even get to tell her how good a girl she was. For, you know. Being magic.

[Foundation operatives were able to recover the remains of SCP-2420's former pet where it had claimed them to be. The remains were not anomalous in any way and had been met with the expected amount of decay.]

[End of Interview Log]

Incident-2420-A: During a routine session with SCP-2420 and SCP-2420-1, the latter was found to have reverted to its original appearance while in the presence of the former. Continued testing with SCP-2420 and other dogs showed that the SCP-2420 anomaly had been most likely extinguished. Currently, SCP-2420 has been allowed to perform Level-0 clerical work while the Ethics Committee will meet to decide what actions to take next. The object has been deemed neutralized.

[This interview took place immediately after Incident-2420-A.]

Dr. Hydock: Was there anything different about Mattie today, SCP-2420?

SCP-2420: No. It was just like any other day. She came in, jumped around a bit. Took her on a little walk, and we were just sitting together. Just normal. Lounging. But, I don't know, something felt weird. You'd noticed it, right? She had been looking older. Even whiter in the jaw. In her snout. God, how long have I been here, Doc? Six years?

Dr. Hydock: Actually, ten.

SCP-2420: Jesus. Well that's a long time, isn't it? But yeah, so I'd been noticing. She had been getting older. Which was weird since really this hasn't been ten years for her. It's only been, what, six hours a week for ten years? But whatever, maybe it was stressful on her. Maybe time doesn't work like that. I don't know.

Dr. Hydock: True. We've found that a normal timeline doesn't apply to most anomalous objects under our care.

SCP-2420: Yeah, see? But, she'd been quiet. And cuddly. And I guess it was almost time for her to go. You know, time's up. She always knew when it was close, time-wise. So she hopped off the couch. And you know, that usually hurt her hips a little bit, but she didn't wince or anything. She licked my hand. And then she bit it, looked me in the eyes. And that's when I knew that this was going to be the last time I saw her. That's when I knew. It had been so hard for her. To cling in all those other dogs. I wonder how we did it. It was hard, but she loved me, I guess.

Dr. Hydock: And then she was gone?

SCP-2420: She let go. And she barked at me. Once. Impatient. The way she did when she had a toy, and I wasn't paying attention. She grinned, stupid grin. Tongue flopping. And then it was like. I don't know. Like a flash. And then suddenly she was that confused Golden Retriever. Poor baby. Had no fucking clue who I was. [SCP-2420 pauses, coughs.] So, I guess you're, uh, not gonna keep me around anymore, right? Gonna suck out my memories, drop me back into the real world?

Dr. Hydock: That is certainly a possibility. Would you prefer that? Honestly, most people under our care would do anything to escape us.

SCP-2420: I don't want to go. I don't want to go anywhere where I'll forget her. I'm afraid if I go back out, I'll die without her. I won't remember how she did such strange things to be with me again. That I did such wild shit. I'm afraid of being myself again. The old me. I'm worried I'll walk right back to that bridge, but she won't be at the dog park again. Shit, if you want, I'll clean up the toilets. And fuck, ten years. How am I gonna get a job? Ten years. Jesus.

Dr. Hydock: I will bring that to the attention of the Ethics Committee, though I make no promises. But, what I want to ask is do you feel meaningfully different, SCP-2420? Certainly our conversations over the years have shown you take a turn. Do you believe it to be the medication, the anomalous effects, or was it merely being allowed to see your dog again?

SCP-2420: I don't know, Doc. Probably the latter? I don't know. I mean, do you want me to say whether or not you think my dog somehow cured my depression?

Dr. Hydock: That's certainly a question that's been on my mind.

SCP-2420: Of course she didn't cure me. It just felt nice. That someone loved me enough. To do what she did. But she's just a dog. She's not magic.

[End of Interview Log]

page revision: 12, last edited: 09 Apr 2016 09:38
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