Robot Dog Scooby-doo

In the third year after my death, the one who remained faithfully by my wife's side was still the bionic robot I had painstakingly designed. It looked exactly like me and carried within it every detail of my mannerisms, speech, and habits. The only difference was that it never lost its temper with her. Because of that, my wife never sensed anything amiss. Yet each night, she brought home a different man, deliberately testing "me," desperate to see the wild jealousy and rage I once wore so vividly. Then, one day, her childhood sweetheart and first love, shoved "me" off the balcony. It was only then, in her horror, that my wife realized… "I" didn't bleed.

At my engagement party, a female dog was sitting on my fiancee’s seat. Her guy best friend, Ryan Anderson, was holding the leash. “Bro, don’t take it personally. Your fiancee drank too much the night before at her bachelorette party, that’s why I’m letting her sleep in for a bit longer.” Everyone looked at me mockingly as they laughed. I felt as though someone had slapped me. All the guests had arrived, but Lily Smith showed up late. “It’s our engagement party today. Are you asking me to marry a dog?” I asked as I suppressed my anger. Lily grabbed Ryan’s sleeve and glared at me impatiently. “What are you talking about? Ryan saw that I was too tired, so he let me rest for a bit longer. Are you seriously offended? “As my fiance, you should be more understanding, like him!” It felt ridiculous and wrong to me. My heart sank as I stood up. “Fine, since he treats you so well, you should marry him then!”

On Christmas Eve, my six-year-old, Yule, was dying from cancer, and all he wanted was a gift from his dad dressed as Santa. I called Peter, my husband, begging him to come. His reply? "Can you stop blowing up my phone? I don't have time for this! I'm helping Tracey find Puffy. Do you know how upset she is?" Oh, Tracey. His first love. And Puffy? Her dog. I told him Yule might not make it through the night. His response? A straight-up dagger: "Don't act like this isn't your fault, Freya. If Yule hadn't kicked Puffy, none of this would've happened. Tomorrow, make sure he apologizes to Tracey." Then he hung up. That night, I sat with Yule, crying as I helped him celebrate his last Christmas. By morning, Peter's social medias were still full of posts about that freaking dog. Mine? Yule's obituary. Ten years of marriage, gone.

My in-laws were old-fashioned. They insisted that spending New Year's in their hometown was a must for a smooth year ahead. We could not get train tickets, so we decided to drive back. When my wife’s first love heard about it, he insisted on coming with us. He even brazenly took the front passenger seat from me. “Charles, I get carsick easily. I can only sit in the front.” Evan shot me a disdainful look. "It's just a seat. Why are you being so touchy?" “If you knew how to drive, would this even be an issue?” My in-laws chimed in as well. “You’re a grown man. Why are you making such a fuss over something so small?” Outnumbered, I had no choice but to squeeze into the back seat with my in-laws. Then, when we were passing a toll booth, Yvonne spotted a stray dog and was suddenly overcome with compassion. “That poor dog. Let’s bring it home with us.” I immediately objected, “The car is already full. If we bring a dog too, we’ll be over the limit. We won’t even be allowed on the road.” Before I had even finished speaking, Evan turned on me without hesitation. “Charles, in that case, why don’t you give up your seat for the dog? You can just take a cab back!”

Xena Quinn posted in the homeowners' group: “Anyone interested in adopting a puppy? $200 each.” I took her at her word and rushed over to adopt one. When she opened the door and saw me, her expression immediately soured, clearly disgusted. “What? A woman?” She quickly raised the price to $2,000 per puppy, and I was so pissed off I just turned around and walked out. The next day, my boyfriend, Hugo Xavier, bought the dog for the original $200 price. Before I could even process what had happened, the doorbell rang. There she was, standing at the door in a revealing nightgown. “Hugo, are you home? I came to check on the puppy.”

เมื่อเขาคิดจะรัก ขณะที่เธอนั้นมีพันธะผูกพัน รักนี้จึงต้องระวัง เหมือนดังคำที่คุ้นเคย love me love my dog. จึงเป็นที่มาของความรักในครั้งนี้ แพทย์หญิงผู้มากด้วยความสามารถและประสบการณ์ แต่ทว่าหมอใบบัวกลับครองตัวเป็นโสด พร้อมกับเรือพ่วงที่หลายคนไม่อาจรู้ได้ว่าบิดาของหนูน้อยเป็นใคร แพทย์หญิงตั้งครรภ์ตั้งแต่เมื่อไหร่กัน จวบจนกระทั่งมีผู้ชายคนนั้นเดินเข้ามาในชีวิตของเธอ

On the day before the competition, someone knocked me out when I was on the street before locking me up in a cage. For three days and three nights, I was chased around by a ferocious dog that kept biting and attacking me. Because of that, my wounds began leaking pus due to infection. Later on, five rich ladies had me locked up in a room. After chaining me up like a dog, they began tormenting me out of fun. When I finally got rescued, I had suffered from countless fractures. Even my internal organs went out of place from the beatings. My older sister, Claire Bowman, whom I'd been relying on since young, had me sent to the hospital immediately. There, I received a rabies vaccine. Meanwhile, my fiancee, Heather Vega, killed the mutt right in front of me in order to help me exact vengeance. She also stripped those ladies down and put them through a humiliating parade in public. After that, she kicked them off to the slums, where they became playthings for the beggars. But as I was lying on the hospital bed, I accidentally overheard Claire and Heather's conversation. "Do you think Christopher will resent us if he ever finds out that we're the ones who've set the dog and the ladies on him just so we can make Samuel the winner of the competition in order to repay him for his benevolence?" Heather's tone was unusually icy. "Christopher's just a replacement for Samuel. This is his fault for not knowing his place and insisting on fighting over the top spot with Samuel! I'm just teaching him a lesson! "Soon, I'll marry him in order to make it up to him. Then, I'll take care of him for the rest of his life. This is already enough." I did my best to hold my tears back while feeling my heart throb in pain. It turned out that the most important women in my life were also the ones who had ruined my lifelong dream. Since they didn't care about me at all, I chose to abandon them as well.

Gina and I were just ordinary werewolves in the Silver Claw Pack. Our incomes were modest, but we married well. Her mate was the captain of the Silver Claw Pack patrol unit. Mine, the fire squad leader. They grew up together—childhood friends—and were the youngest golden duo in the Werewolf Alliance. On the day we married, our mates each bought us a luxury high-rise apartment on the top floor of the central castle, side by side, with the promise of sharing life and death together. That is, until that fateful night. Rogues broke into the central zone. Chaos reached even the upper levels of our building. The tower caught fire. Amidst the thick smoke, I sent a desperate mind-link to my mate. He blocked it. Turns out, both our mates were busy shielding their shared first love, Lifu. They ignored our calls for help. Gina dragged me as we ran. She was six months pregnant; her pup was already kicking from the panic. Her mate never showed up either. We made it to the stairwell, where we were trapped for five hours. Toxic fumes filled our lungs. I went into labor too early. My pup didn't make it. Gina bled for three days in the hospital. Her pup was gone too. Meanwhile, our mates were digging through the wreckage—twenty-four hours straight—searching for Lifu's lost dog. That was it. Right then and there, Gina and I looked at each other and knew. We were done.

On Couples' Day, I received a last-minute urgent request from a client to help feed her dog at her residence. The client's home is located in the same residential area as Zachary Yandon's and my marital home. Even the passcode to her home is very similar to ours, with the last four digits being Zachary's birthday. When I open the door, it feels as though I've walked into my own home. The furnishings in my client's home are surprisingly the same as the furnishings in my own home. Even the Itorian men's loafers placed at the doorway are the exact same pair as I bought for Zachary last month. I stand at the doorway hesitantly without entering the home. It's then that a golden retriever dashes out of one of the rooms and runs into my arms. The force is so strong that I stumble backward, hitting my back on the door. I know I'm not imagining things at all. It turns out the client's dog is Bingo, my furbaby who went missing three years ago!

On my birthday, my husband of five years accompanied his childhood sweetheart to celebrate her dog's birthday. Avery Simpson published a loving post: [The happiest baby in the world. Mom and Dad will be with you. I hope you're always happy.] Seeing the words "Mom and Dad", I commented a question mark with confusion. The next moment, I found myself blocked. Charles Logan called me and lashed out at me. "Why do you always have to mess things up at the worse possible time? You're worse than a dog. How despicable!" Shortly after, Avery changed her profile picture to one of her and Charles, hands intertwined. When I saw the obvious provocation, I didn't get angry like before. That's because I had already made up my mind to get a divorce.