Okay for a little bit of context, in this story Ghost and Toast did not grow up together. They do not know each other at all. It's just an idea I had while at work please bear with me.
The sun had just risen. Dew drops had formed on the grass overnight. Johnny Ghost was taking his Saint Bernard, Quasar, on his usual morning walk. Damp paw prints lined the sidewalk as the big feller pranced happily next to his handler, taking in all of the scents around him as if this wasn't the exact same route as yesterday. And the day before that. And really every other day of the dog's life.
Today was a bit different, however. As the pair approached Ghost's apartment building, a black, rather large for its breed, poodle came barreling towards them. His adrenaline pumping, Ghost immediately pulled Quasar back, putting himself between the two dogs. This seemed to startle the poodle a little. It stopped in its tracks standing still for a moment, before sitting, its tail slapping on the ground. Its fur was cut in a way that it looked like it was wearing a little coat and leg warmers. It was clearly well cared for and loved, so it was strange for it to be out here alone. Regardless, Ghost kept himself between the canines as he guided his own dog inside and up into his apartment. Quasar was completely unphased and didn't fight to go back inside, which didn't surprise Ghost as he had spent many hours, no, days working to have a well-adjusted dog.
He unclipped the leash from Quasar's collar, who instantly jumped on the couch to get cozy. Ghost sat next to him, giving him scratches all over his body. Quasar flipped onto his back, stretching his body out to take up more of the couch and to enjoy his belly rubs.
After some cuddles and a few episodes of Ghostfacers, Ghost felt the urge to peek out his window. One he couldn't just shake off. As expected, peering out the window he saw the poodle still sniffing around the grass, its tail wagging like crazy. From this angle, however, Ghost was able to spot a pink band around the dog's neck.
A collar?
Unfortunately, Ghost was a good Samaritan. This meant he had to go look for any kind of identification that could get the dog back home. Although he was brewing with some level of judgment for letting the dog get lost in the first place, it was someone's adored pet. He gave Quasar one more scratch on his head, though the dog was now snoring up a storm and creating little drool bubbles with every breath, and reluctantly went back downstairs and out the door of his building.
The dog's head perked up when the door opened. Ghost crouched down to seem as unthreatening as possible.
"Here, puppy. Come here." He said, patting the ground gently. The dog's tail began to wag again and it ran over to him, sitting in front of him and giving his hand a little sniff. Ghost moved slowly, so as to not startle the unfamiliar dog, pushing its fur out of the way to get a look at the tags on the collar.
The collar was a light, dusty pink with rose-gold, square studs. There were three tags on the collar. One was a rabies tag. Standard. But what really caught his eye was the rose-gold circle reading Valentino Garavani. "You're shitting me," he said quietly, grabbing onto the tag to get a better look, "Who the hell buys a dog designer?" He didn't want to know, and he definitely did not want to meet this person.
But alas his morale got the best of him. He turned his attention to the third tag. It was a little rose-gold heart. The words Miss Darla were carved into it in a very delicate font. Flipping the tag to the back, there was a phone number with an area code he hadn't ever seen before. Great. He had no clue what he was getting himself into.
He took out his phone, keeping a hold of Darla's collar as he dialed the number on the back. It rang only twice before he was sent to voicemail. A British accent rang through the phone.
