Jenna Marbles Dog Toys Novels & Stories

I couldn't handle the rejection. Veering to the right, I head down the aisle labeled Dog Toys. The entire row is jam-packed with toys of every type and color—bright ones, dark ones, ones made of fabric, squeaky ones, ropes for tug-of-war. The choices are endless. There doesn't seem to be any rhyme or reason for how the toys are stacked together in the aisle. Pink ones are settled next the blue ones and the smaller, softer toys obviously meant for tiny dogs are right next to the large rubber balls the size of my hands. This may turn out to be longer than the quick trip I'd planned. I'm halfway down the aisle and my hands are still empty when a black streak flicks across the corner of my eye.

I was fully planning to march straight toward the weapons shop in the high district, but my progress was cut short when Rhea let out a loud, silly gasp. "Oh my goodness," she squeaked, grabbing my arm and pulling me toward a colorful stall near the center of the square. "Elara, look. You have to look at this." I turned, expecting to see a rare healing plant or a beautiful piece of cloth. Instead, I found myself staring at a mountain of oversized, silly fluffy stuffed wolf toys. They were made of thick, dark charcoal fur, with cartoonish gold-colored eyes and these tiny, stitched-in permanent frowns that made them look miserable.