Original Smile Dog Novels & Stories

She wasn’t about to hand them that satisfaction. She stepped out of the car, opened the back door, and let Blizzard out. The massive white Samoyed bounded out gracefully, his fur catching the lamplight like spun silk. He gave a low, contented rumble, then brushed affectionately against Serena’s knee, tail wagging. Gasps followed almost instantly. “Oh my god, what breed is that?” one of the girls asked, leaning forward with wide, adoring eyes. “He’s gorgeous!”

You named her. "Wow, she's so beautiful, Dad? What breed of dog is this? " "Maltese. " "Wow, her fur is very smooth and long. " I chuckled when Sander just looked at the puppy Dad holding with his eyes wide open. "Sander, do you like her or not? " Dad asked, and it snapped Sander from his trance. "I like her so much, Dada. Thank you so much, Dada."He sobbed and wrapped his arms around Dad's neck and peppered his face with kisses.

Both boys have their mother’s dark curly hair but their father’s light blue eyes. A large brown dog rushes to Tru the moment she walks through the door. He’s whining, and his tail is wagging. Tru sits on the floor, and the dog lays on top of her legs as she introduces me to everyone. At last, she motions to the dog laying on her legs, “This is Sarge.”

THE NEXT MORNING - CHRISTMAS DAY Melissa woke up to bad breath, opening her eyes blearily, she saw a drooling, brown and white muzzle in her face “Urgh Sully you stink.” The St Bernard gave her a sloppy lick on her face. “Stop. I’m up.” Melissa said pushing the dogs face away gently. Sully got up and onto the floor, Melissa, sat up, scratching her head a little confused and woolly headed as to where she was for a little while.

Gray around the muzzle. "Who's your friend?" he called. "That's Moxie. She was a rescue." At the sound of her name, the dog cracked open an eye and peered up at him. Denver hunkered down and offered the back of his hand. Looking imperious, Moxie stretched forward just a bit and sniffed. Her little black nose twitched, then she rose and stretched, worming her way under his hand with a sharp little yap that clearly said, "Pet me, damn it!"

“No. But Dr. James says he is really nice. He's really smart, too.” I gave the dog a skeptical look. It had just returned, but with a different stick than the one Tyler had thrown. The dog was pure mutt. There might have been some sort of lab in his genetic history, but the individual breeds had become so mixed it was impossible to tell what heritage the dog could claim. I had to admit that his floppy ears and doggy grin were rather adorable. “Spock, sit,” Tyler commanded. The dog promptly dropped to a sitting position, his tail still wagging furiously. Tyler grinned at me. “Spock, speak.”

After days of inner turmoil, my routine had finally settled back into its comforting rhythm. I rose with a quiet sense of purpose, a genuine smile curving my lips and a renewed surge of courage and dedication filling my chest. The weight that had pressed upon me felt lighter, almost lifted. As I stepped into the hallway, the soft click of nails on the wooden floor announced her arrival. Amber, my beloved poodle, bounded toward me with unrestrained joy. Her fluffy, caramel-colored curls bounced with every step, and her dark eyes sparkled with the kind of pure, unconditional love only a dog can offer. It was as if she could sense the shift in my mood—she had always been remarkably attuned to m

Instead, a stranger was standing in front of her. He wears the entire Met team uniform. An orange-green bottle cap was worn backwards on his head, where some of the tightly locked blond locks had escaped. He wears a Met shirt, jeans, and sneakers. He kept an orange leash on his arm, and then she saw the Old Yeller sitting right next to him with a rather serious expression that showed he wasn't some stupid hybrid. The dog wore a colorful Met scarf around its neck. One of its ears folded down where it had been damaged. Its tail is still not wagging. But his eyes no longer contained the haunting look she used to see in her traumatized dog. Leaning in front of the dog's legs was a cardboard box

She seemed almost confused, and Bradley couldn’t blame her. Bo’s smile falters ever so slightly, “Here.” He offered her the other hand, and watched as she took her time in grabbing it. Bo followed behind, smiling as a little dog came running up to them, immediately taking after jumping up both of Bradley’s legs, trying his best to get his attention.

she admitted, running her fingers through the soft fur. Ethan chuckled at that. "Who said he's a dog? Meet Mango, my new furry friend. And Mango, meet Olivia, my new old friend." He took Olivia's hand, which he was still holding, and guided it to shake the puppy's paw. "Hey, Mango, will you be friends with Olivia? You know, she's the CEO of a news channel. She might make you a star in her crime shows if you bark or glare at her, so be careful. I'm warning you."