Original Smile Dog Novels & Stories

Ossey calls. I opened my eyes and stared at him confused. "I mean a girl that's just a friend," he clarifies hastily, "I'm not a virgin ...you probably didn't need to know that." I snorted loudly and tried to keep a straight face. His ears turned a bit red. Woof! The sound came from out in the hallway and a few seconds later a Dalmatian came running into his room. The dog ran towards me, bobbing on his feet and hopped onto my lap and gave a friendly bark and I chuckled and scratched behind his ear.

The air was electric with energy, filled with the sound of their excited barks and playful growls, as the grassy field became their canvas for youthful antics. My pup, Alma, with her sleek, dark coat that seemed to shimmer in the light, bounded joyfully across the meadow. Her vibrant spirit matched that of Matt’s pup, Sionavar—Sion for short—whose striking silver fur caught the sunlight like a beacon. Alice’s pup, Kerian, was undeniably mischievous, with sparkling green eyes and a quick, darting movement that always kept him a step ahead. Kim’s pup ZaZu, adorned with unique patches of gray and black, gilded gracefully through the grass, while Cam’s pup Rema, the largest of the group, exuded

The morning of our thirteenth year in Portugal begins with fog and oak at my feet. He's not a young dog anymore — seven now, quiet and steady, the way dogs become when they've learned that the world is not something to fear. His one blue eye and one brown eye watch me as I make coffee, as if he's cataloging my movements, learning my rhythms. He's nothing like Fig, nothing like Pippin, nothing like Orwell. He's just Oak. Himself. Enough.

Fur tickled my skin, and I giggled. “Cute.” Dante’s soft whisper caught my ear. “Huh?” I looked at him, and my heart forgot to beat for a second. Dante was smiling. Not the cocky smirk or stoic expression he always showed me. He was wearing a soft, small smile, and his face was gentle. ‘So a dog can make him smile like this. He wasn’t exaggerating when he said he was a dog lover.’ “I know right. It’s so white and fluffy. What breed is it?”

“Bullshit reasoning! I pay to keep a dog, not to let it boss me around or get myself mauled. There’s no ‘logic’ here—if a dog bites people, it’s wrong. Period!” Xena was momentarily speechless. “You…!” She quickly regained her composure and snapped back. “Don’t change the subject! I’m streaming today because Kate Lincoln abused her dog. I’ve seen that dog myself—it’s the sweetest thing!” “Hahaha!” Dogman suddenly burst into laughter, leaving the livestream chat flooded with question marks. After his laughter subsided, he said mockingly. “Sweet? Folks, don’t let this chick fool you. I’m Dogman—I’ve never taken in a so-called ‘sweet’ dog.

Judging from this demonstration just now, I could already tell it was Emerald. Emerald is the shyest of the three dogs, and probably the most adorable; with large brown puppy eyes and huge, floppy white ears, Emerald can get any hard heart to melt like ice cream left under the sun for a few seconds. I turn around with Roy still climbing all over my bare tights and digging his sharp nails into my soft skin like he always do, before taking Emerald into my arms and delivering warm strokes unto her back and stomach.

He wasn’t kidding. We rounded the final corner to reach our baggage claim, and there she was—Xenia. A petite Puerto Rican woman with her duo-tone hair, half a rich, almost-black brown, and the other half a vibrant blonde, like dusk and dawn fighting for attention, braided into Princess Leia buns, oversized sunglasses perched on her head, her smile radiant as she waved at us. Beside her were two dogs: a regally alert corgi and a giant Leonberger tucked close into Xenia’s side, her posture low, tail tucked, but gaze locked onto Clay. Her anxiety read like a pulse, vibrating just beneath the surface—but she didn’t move from Xenia’s side. Not an inch. Pockets started wriggling so hard in his car

Sam held up his hands. "Easy there. We are just trying to help." She did not relax. "Do you think that easy smile will always make everyone go easy on you?" Her voice was sharp. "Put your stupid smile away. And step back." Sam lowered his hands. He did not smile. But he did not argue. The woman gathered her dog into her arms. The dog whimpered. She held it close. "Papa Sam," Maya whispered, "she is scary."

I turned quickly. Nothing. Maybe it was a trick of the light. Another rustle. Then a puff of something white peeked out from behind the edge. I squinted, stepping closer. A round face. Black eyes like shiny beads. A soft, panting grin. "....oh my god," I whispered, dropping to a crouch. The Samoyed puppy bounce out from the hedge like a little cloud come to life, tail wagging, fur fluffy and dew or whatever it was clinging onto it. He let out a happy yip and came charging to me, it's grace forgotten.

, the handsome stranger spoke stiffling his laugh. I like his laugh. "AMELIA HUDSON", my blue doggy came to my side and glared at me. How my doggy is so tall?? May be a hybrid? "WHAT HYBRID?? DRAKE BETTER TAKE HER HOME BEFORE I KILL HER", my blue doggy ordered the handsome stranger. "Weu..doggy ... don't order ..around..my prinwnce..", I glared at my doggy. "DRAKE", the blue doggy shouted again.