Stories of the Creepypasta's

My Pal Scout

Everyone in my family has one thing in common. We all love dogs. They’re just so enjoyable, loyal, and all around pleasant to be around. My five-year old son is no different. From the time he could talk, he’s been constantly asking for a puppy of his very own. I of course, being a fellow dog lover would have been happy to oblige, but there is one tiny problem. We live in a suburban apartment complex; it’s cozy, but unfortunately, as is often the case with rental property, we aren’t allowed to have any pets. Of course, this is not the reasoning that would be accepted, let alone understood by a toddler.

They’re so innocent at this age. I remember trying to explain it to him anyway, even if he didn’t entirely understand the logic behind it. To tell you the truth, I’m not entirely sure that I do. I told him that some places have rules, and that the people who make these rules have their reasons. In the case of an apartment building, most likely a snub nosed landlord who can’t stand the thought of dogs barking at night or pee stains on their precious cheap carpet. I remember the look on his little face, his big brown eyes wide in questioning wonder.

“I don’t understand, if this is where we live, why can’t we do whatever we want here?” I smiled, yet at the same time I couldn’t help but feel saddened by his words. We should be able to do what we want, and yet this is the best I can do for him. I’m a single parent, and unfortunately my minimum wage salary won’t allow me to afford a house for my family. But over the years my son and I have learned to make due. I patted his shoulder and told him that we would speak of getting a dog one day. I gave that sweet, brown-eyed boy my word. One day I would get him a dog that would change his life. And eventually, I did. Oh, did I…

Christmas was fast approaching, and as was tradition with our small family of two, my son and I were looking at toys online. It was like window shopping, except what my boy didn’t know was that every year “Santa” would end up getting him one of the toys he saw. Usually, this translated to the one that got him the most excited. We sat there at the computer screen, my son on my lap as the homepage to one of his favorite toy stores popped up. Instantly, he was elated, pointing at the various toys and the colorful lettering sprawled all across the site. We scrolled down. There was an interesting line up that year, including the new figurines from the Marvel series, racetracks, and several big-eyed plush bears, which looked a bit too freaky for my tastes. Feeling in the Christmas spirit, I clicked on the search engine for the site. D-O-G I typed.

Instantly, over a thousand search results flooded forth. My boy of course was delighted to see page after page of interesting and cute puppy toys popping up on the screen in front of him, but none of them prompted that very special reaction that I was looking for in him. That, “it’s the best toy ever” response, the one that I would plan his secret Christmas gift around. We were on the last page, and I was about to give up hope, especially when the results became more centered around toys which simply had the word “dog” in their title, rather than being actual dog-related toys, such as Barbie dolls that came with paw print t-shirts, or puppy pajamas. Just when I was about to give up, I came to the very last toy. It was a green plush puppy, sitting upright like a teddy bear. It’s expression was bright and lively, and each of its paws had a different symbol on them, as well as two interlocking orange hearts on its stomach. It also had a name tag, shaped like a bone. On the tag read the dog’s name: SCOUT.

Along with the picture, was a list of interesting features the toy had. I was amazed by what this simple, inexpensive toy was capable of. Apparently, Scout came with a connection cable, that would allow you to input your child’s name, favorite foods, and much more. The toy also claimed to be able to encourage children to interact along with it. Huh, I thought. Can it really do that? I mean, talking toys are one thing, but a toy that actually encourages the child to want to talk back? Sounded interesting at the very least. I looked down to see what my son’s reaction was. I didn’t have to look long. His eyes instantly became transfixed upon that little, oddly colored pup. I knew that look. Even before he began bouncing up and down and pointing frantically to the computer screen, I had already decided what he was getting for Christmas that year.