What The Pug

-2-

7:28 AM

ᴛʜᴇ ғᴏsᴛᴇʀs'

...

"WHO'S AT the door, Genie?" Dad called. The clatter of dishes told me he was done cooking, and was cleaning up now.

I stared into the dark, giant orbs of the pug, crinkling my nose.

Woof.

"What was that? I didn't hear you." Dad called again and I made a quick mental note to work on not sounding like a dog, so people would not confuse an actual bark for my voice.

"Uh..." I scratched the back of my neck, biting the inside of my cheek. "It's a pug."

"A what?" He appeared at the door, straightening the sleeves of his coral V-neck. Upon realising what he was looking at, his face immediately split into a grin and he picked the puppy up. "He's adorable."

The pug definitely agreed, for he barked softly at dad and nuzzled his neck. My heart warmed, and I felt my lips curving into a smile.

"Who put you here, little guy?" Dad stroked the pug's hairy back, lightly tickling him, earning a wet kiss on the neck.

I bent down to pick up the basket. It was surprisingly heavier than I had anticipated. I lifted the gingham cloth to see a piece of cardboard paper with the word Oreo written in giant letters. Huh, I thought. That must be his name.

Upon further inspection, I noticed there were two small packs of Kibbles 'n Bits and a toy frog which squeaked when you pressed its tummy too hard.

"Well," I looked up at dad and Oreo happily cuddling each other. "What do we do with him then?"

"What do you mean?" Dad furrowed his eyebrows, as if my question was absolutely nonsensical. "He's been brought to our doorstep by God, we have absolutely no choice but to keep him."

With that statement, he took the dog inside, leaving my mouth hanging open in shock.

...

8:06 AM

"Dad, what if he's for someone else? Maybe whoever put him there got the house wrong?"

I had been trying to convince him that it was a bad idea to keep the dog. For starters, it was sketchy for many many reasons. He came in a basket—of all things, a basket! Who puts dogs in baskets? If you have ever seen Basket Case, you will know what I am talking about. It also did not help that there was absolutely no note or clue that could indicate who the owner might be. What if it was a lost puppy? What if we got sued for theft? What if—

"Calm down, Genie." Dad pat my shoulder, noticing my worried expression. "We'll contact the police, okay? We'll figure out this mystery together."

That was not a bad idea. I slowly started to relax, nodding and looking down at Oreo. He was sprawled out on a throw pillow, staring at me with his bulging eyes.

"You should get to school." Dad said, as he filled a bowl with water and carefully placed it beside Oreo. "I'll take care of him."

Oreo quickly hopped off the pillow, and with noticeable desperation, lapped the water, his tongue curled backwards.