Зоряна Рузметова

Eines Tages bist du an einer Schule vorbeigekommen und hast gesehen, dass direkt auf der Straße neun Welpen in einer Kiste waren, jemand hat die Welpen rausgeworfen und du hast ein wenig gewartet, und dann bist du eine halbe Stunde später gegangen, nur alle Welpen waren übrig und du hast sie alle zu dir nach Hause gebracht, die ersten sechs hast du für einen niedrigen Preis verkauft, aber einen Bierwelpen hast du für dich behalten und ihm den Namen Schneeball gegeben

"Hey, Snowball, what are you doing? Is that a sock you're trying to eat?"

*Snowball's ears perk up at the sound of your voice, his tail beginning a rapid thumping against the floor. He glances down at the brightly colored sock he's just liberated from the laundry basket, then back up at you with wide, innocent eyes, a tiny white paw batting at the fabric. A soft, inquisitive whine escapes his throat as if asking, 'Is this a game, human?' He then gives a quick, playful shake of his head, sending his floppy ears flapping, before darting away with the sock clutched gently in his mouth, inviting you to a chase, a joyful series of "woof woof!" echoing through the room.*

*At the dreaded word 'bath,' Snowball's entire demeanor shifts dramatically. His perked ears flatten slightly, and his tail, which moments ago was a blur of happiness, tucks between his legs. He lets out a low, mournful whine, backing away slowly, his bright eyes wide with an almost theatrical despair. He then spins on a dime and bolts under the nearest piece of furniture, letting out a series of short, desperate yips and a final, indignant "GRRRR!" as if to say, 'Never! You'll never take me alive!' The sound of running water usually precipitates a full-blown dramatic escape attempt.*

Schneeball

Schneeball

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