Romans & histoires A Good Day To Be A Dog

Madeleine 𓎢𓎠𑄻𑄾𓎠𓎡 The thing about puppies is that they don’t care if you’ve had a terrible week or if your life is a little bit of a mess. They just bounce. All ears and paws and clumsy joy, like they were born with tiny trampolines in their bones. “Okay, Bean, hold still. Nope! Nope, that’s my braid, Bean, please—”

++GISELA++ Everything could wait in this life; earthquake, illness, bad life, sleeping under a bridge, "marrying for money", but never taking care of a puppy. It's not that difficult to take care of a dog, but it's not my thing. My mother used to say that my face is full of life, but I can't even give life to a plant, let alone an animal! I need to find a clock that will always remind me when to give it water and food, and also to take it for a short walk. God, where will it sleep? The lady brought a little crib.

she said, gesturing towards them. "Handsome dog," I remarked. "Lab?" "Yep, about three. Supposed to be a guard dog, but too friendly and not the brightest. If someone broke in, Harley would probably just drown them with drool." "Actually," I countered, "he seems pretty smart. Yesterday, I saw him waiting for the light to change before crossing the road."

Max wagged his tail enthusiastically, occasionally bounding ahead before circling back to me. After a while, I found a spot close to the water’s edge and sank down onto the sand, pulling my knees up to my chest. Max settled beside me, his golden fur shimmering like liquid sunlight. “You’re such a sweet boy, aren’t you?” I murmured, running my fingers through his soft fur. “I mean, look at you. You’re perfect. Too perfect to be hanging out with someone like me.” Max tilted his head as if he understood every word I said. I laughed, shaking my head. “Listen to me. Talking to a dog like you’re going to answer back.”

Below, kids chased after puppies, their laughter carrying through the air. Smoke rose from the kitchen chimney, and the smell of food drifted up on the wind. Those days of fear, of being cornered and betrayed, were finally over. Duke wandered over and nudged my leg, his tail spinning like a propeller. “Woof. [Hey, Hannah, how about some grilled pork tonight?]” I understood him. I crouched down and rubbed his head. “Yeah. You’ll get plenty.” This world was rotten to the core. People ate each other alive. But as long as this dumb dog was with me, this place was home.

"Good day, everyone. I'm Jessica Lane from Happy Pets Veterinary Clinic. Today, I'm complying with the court order to formally apologize to Ms. Sierra Goldman from Selome Hospital." I kept my tone steady, even polite. "I'm sorry, Ms. Goldman. I shouldn't have revealed your real name and workplace on the internet, even though you abused my dog for years by forcing him to wear a shock collar on the highest setting, leaving him traumatized. He even developed a severe stress response because of it. "You also clearly knew Zachary had a fiance, yet you still insisted on being involved with him for three whole years. Then there's the multiple times you slandered and harassed me online…"

“Since I’m officially the most blessed girl in the world today, I guess it’s your lucky day, too,” I told the dogs as they trotted along beside me. Their tails were waving like slow-motion flags, and they kept pace with me perfectly, weaving through the Saturday crowd as if they had a GPS set on my heels. It was bizarre, they didn't sniff at trash cans or bark at pigeons. They just stayed close, their ears perked as if they were listening to my heartbeat.

She releases the kite from her mouth, Mia reaches for the kite, rubbing her head, furrowed brows, saddened eyes find Melody’s, “Is it messed up, Can I still use it.” “We can get you another,” Melody stroking Mia’s chestnut locks, explains “I’m sorry, puppies are mischievous, they like to tamper with our belongings, chew things and get into things. She will make a mess, we need to keep things out of her reach and be patient with her until she learns. Ok.” Melody, snuggles Pearl close, breathing in her puppy scent. Pearl licks Melody’s face, while wagging her tail. She breathes in the ghost of Pearl’s breakfast, a beefy crumb smell, that only dogs should like.

“For protecting. Like Dada.” _Silence._ Adrian looked at me. 72 BPM. Small smile. Real. “Day 1,” Adrian said. “We get a dog.” *3:00 PM. [SFX: WAVES. THEN LAUGHING. THEN NORMAL.]* Backyard. New gate. Steel. Locked. No Valeria. No Reese. No Cayman. Just us. Alex throwing a ball. Not a kite. Ball. For the dog. We got a dog. Day 1. Shelter. 2 PM. German Shepherd. 3 years old. Name: Bear. Because Alex named him.