Friends Are For Keeping

You're ten years old. Why you're outside is irrelevant. You're in the mood for sunshine, your parents want you to do something besides stare at your phone, the internet's down, it rained all last week and you have cabin fever. The point is you're outside, in the backyard, rushing towards the swing set.

Or that was the plan, anyway. Because the moment you see the furry tan and white puppy sitting on the grass, panting expectantly, the swings can take a hike. You wish you had your phone, not to text or tweet but to take a picture. You can't call Mom outside because yelling might make it run away. Or worse, Mom might call animal control, or a shelter and they'll take the puppy away.

He or she doesn't have a collar, meaning it's a stray. Finders, keepers, right? Especially when the puppy came into your yard, obviously that means he or she wanted to be there.

You want a dog. You've wanted a dog since you were six and Mom kept saying no. Every year her excuse changed: she's allergic (even though she can be around other dogs just fine), your little brother's too young (stopped working once he turned four), the house is too small (you've got a big backyard to make up for it), the neighbors might complain (they travel a lot).

You've started to think Mom just hates dogs. And fun.

The puppy looks at you, barks, and runs over. He or she licks your hands, and you're sure now this dog was meant to be yours because why else would he or she do that? After coming into your yard?

If you tell Mom, would she get it? Probably not, she'd make up a bunch of stuff about ticks and fleas and dangerous street dogs with diseases even though this one looks healthy. A little skinny, but he or she is small anyway. Probably a beagle, those are small and have lots of energy. And they're noisy.

You check again to make sure there's no collar or tags, and to make sure they don't have any cuts or bites. You think about calling Dad at work to ask if he can take you and the dog to the vet, just to make sure he or she's in good shape. Dad loves dogs, and he's always tried to help you make a case for getting one.

Then you remember you don't have your phone.

The puppy barks again, standing on two legs and trying to hug you with his or her front paws. Mom's friend trained both of her labs to hug, but this one already knows how. Another sign that this dog is meant to be yours! You really wish you had your phone now, so you could text a picture of this to Mom.

You briefly wonder if you could sneak the puppy into the house before remembering how much beagles bark. And the sound of nails on the wooden floor would give you away instantly. Maybe if Mom was painting you could get away with it; when Mom paints, she gets so into it even a tornado couldn't distract her.

You check the streets leading up to the driveway for Dad's car. It's Thursday, meaning it's not one of his Late Nights, and when you left the house it was a quarter to four.

How late is the vet open, anyway? You look next door, on both sides, and wonder if you could talk one of the neighbors into taking you.

The puppy cuddles up on your lap just then, and you're doomed. No good person would make an animal get up when they're comfy, and besides, this proves the puppy really trusts you. This was meant to be and even Mom would be nuts not to see it.

Still, you decide to keep the puppy in the garage for the night. You and your sister just cleaned it, and you'll take down some of the dinner leftovers to him or her when everyone else is getting ready for bed.

First, though, you really should find out if it's a boy or a girl. Then pick a name.