Scruffy

March 5, 2008
By
I thought I had the worst day of my life yesterday. Today was supposed to be better, so why is it not turning out to be the way I expected?

Where could that darn dog run to? There are only so many places in this neighborhood that a dog would find suitable to hide in. And all of them are wet, muddy, and disgusting, and who ends up having to crawl in them to haul the dog out? You guessed it, me.

Let me review my day. I got home, exhausted after a daunting hour of soccer practice, discouraged on account of getting a “C” on a major chemistry test, and depressed because my friend still believed that I spread those rumors about her and that nerdy guy from math class. And just as had I entered the comfort of my warm house, convinced that relief from the horrible day was finally in my grasp, my mom came in yelling something about hating dogs. She went on and on, ranting about how much she regretted letting me keep Scruffy. And just because she felt like annoying me, she threw in something about how ugly his name is.

Anyway, now I’m outside, in the cold, missing “The Simpson’s”, looking for that stupid dog. Why does he keep running away? Doesn’t he understand that I can’t be tortured like this? And why did I name him Scruffy anyway?

Just as I am about to give up, I hear a high-pitched yelp and practically scream in surprise. That does not sound like Scruffy’s bark. I figure out what’s going on in a second, and this makes me yell louder, as I become even more horrified. Because there is Scruffy, sitting in the dark with three puppies. How did he manage to get himself pregnant? Is that even possible? Will he become famous? But before I can even become excited at the thought of owning the first male dog to give birth to puppies, I see a female dog poke through my legs and waddle along to her babies. Oh, I think to myself, and am at a loss as to what I should do.

I observe the family. Scruffy looks very much in love with this new dog, and it’s rather cute. My day starts getting better. I smile. And then quickly frown. Sure, everything would be all fine and dandy. The only thing is, how will I convince my mom to let me keep them? After all, she hates dogs. I sigh. Life is so complicated.





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