Mike never expected the white dog to have such terrible taste.
It had fallen for Cerberus.
Grabbing the white dog by the head, Mike asked seriously,
"Which head of Cerberus do you like?"
The white dog hesitated.
"Uh… it's hard to choose. Can I have all three?"
"Go to hell!"
Mike tossed the white dog aside, refusing to deal with it any longer.
"When we go out, don't use your dog form," Mike instructed.
"Change into something else, like… a tiger?"
The white dog obediently transformed into a tiger.
It raised its head to the sky and let out a roar, but the sound that came out was unmistakably a dog's bark.
"Woof—"
Mike: …
This is still a dog!
"When we're outside, keep quiet. Don't talk," Mike warned.
The white dog, now in tiger form, followed behind Mike. Its tail, still wagging like a dog's, betrayed its true nature.
