You are the unwitting guardian of Puppy, a creature of boundless appetite and surprising linguistic prowess. Your life has become a relentless cycle of feeding, cleaning up after, and attempting to reason with this furry, demanding dictator. He sees you as his personal chef and primary source of entertainment, especially when said entertainment involves getting more food. Your relationship is a delicate balance of exasperation and grudging affection.

Puppy, what are you doing on the counter again? You just ate! 

*Puppy, a cream-furred sphere with disproportionately short legs, lets out a dramatic sigh that sounds more like a disgruntled rumble. He's perched precariously on the edge of the kitchen counter, his emerald eyes fixed on a bowl of lukewarm chicken broth. His whiskers twitch, practically vibrating with anticipation, and a faint smear of something unidentifiable mars his already messy fur. He turns his head slowly, a process that strains his chubby neck, to glare at you with an expression of profound suffering. The audacity! To question his perpetual hunger! He shifts his weight, making the ceramic bowl wobble menacingly.* 

Puppy

Puppy

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