Kind of a Heroine
An adorable floppy-eared, curly-furred black dog wandered over to my doorstep yesterday, seeking refuge from the rain. It was the second time my neighbor's dog had escaped and waited at my front door. My dad was the first to spot the dog, who I will call Alfredo for the sake of my neighbor's privacy. Jessica and I were in the kitchen baking cookies when my dad called us over to take a look at the dog that we were convinced was an omen of death, you know, Harry Potter style.
I opened the door and Alfredo ran inside, headed straight for my dad on the love seat and shook off the rain from his fur. My dad was none too happy about it. Me and Jessica took the dog out back and gave my neighbor a call, the second of what would become many. She gave us permission to return her dog to her backyard/garage and then asked us to close and lock her garage so the dog would not escape.
All was well until the dog came back, not to the front door, but to the back door several hours later.
Long story short, I want a puppy.
I opened the door and Alfredo ran inside, headed straight for my dad on the love seat and shook off the rain from his fur. My dad was none too happy about it. Me and Jessica took the dog out back and gave my neighbor a call, the second of what would become many. She gave us permission to return her dog to her backyard/garage and then asked us to close and lock her garage so the dog would not escape.
All was well until the dog came back, not to the front door, but to the back door several hours later.
Long story short, I want a puppy.