My Puppy Can Talk

My life has been hard,

terribly hard.

So hard that even the angels in heaven flew down and offered to grant me three wishes.

I made my wishes sincerely:

First wish: I want to die.

Second wish: I really want to die.

Third wish: Just let me die already.

The angel was so frightened that it flew back to heaven,

leaving me with a little dog that could talk.

The dog is tiny and soft. All it does is tilt its head up and call me "Mommy."

It calls me in different tones and with different inflections, almost like it's singing.

I'm a man. How could I be a dog's mother?

The dog doesn't know what a person is or what a dog is.

All it knows is how to cling to me and ask:

Why can't I eat the bread in the trash can?

Why can't I drink the water in the sink?

Why can't a puppy sleep on the bed?

And also:

"Do you love me?"

Do I love it?

I don't know.

But for now, I don't want to die anymore.

What would happen to the dog if I died?

It's even afraid of mice.

--

Blurb to be revised.

Actually, it's a melodramatic dog-training story about going from universally disliked to universally adored (happy ending).

Everyday life, bittersweet and sweet.

Probably a short-to-medium-length story with a healing tone.

The characters' values do not represent the author's.

Theme: A puppy saves the world