I sorted and put away all the pet supplies I bought, still considering whether to buy a cage, but judging by how well-behaved it is, it doesn't seem necessary for now.
I called the dog into the bathroom and commanded, "Sit."
The floor was dry, without any dampness or moisture, so it wouldn't get its butt fur wet. It glanced around and sat down.
I took out a pet comb and started grooming its fur. After just a couple of strokes, its fur was flying everywhere—this must be the only downside of being fluffy, shedding like crazy.
A tuft of fur got stuck on the lens, and my vision suddenly narrowed. It seemed like it wanted to blow on my face to get the fur off my glasses, so I blocked its mouth with my hand.
"Sit still."
The dog licked my palm and, looking a bit uneasy, remained seated. I used a lint roller to remove the dog hair from my sweater and wiped my glasses clean.
Putting on a mask, I continued to comb its fur. The dog squinted contentedly, and whenever I leaned in close, it would take the opportunity to lick my earlobe.
Sometimes, it would accidentally lick my glasses askew, and I'd quickly grab its mouth. We'd playfully nip at each other for a moment, and then it would nudge me affectionately in my arms.
With a soft thud, I fell onto the floor, sitting down abruptly.
Dog: "…"
Unbothered, I patted my bottom and stood up. I tidied myself and the dog and then went to wash vegetables and cook dinner.
For dinner, I made three dishes and a soup, and prepared a full bowl of dog food for the dog. But it kept glancing at me.
Its dog food was even more expensive than my own meals, with all the nutrients it needed, and I thought it should be eating its food.
The dog's gaze was especially eager, but even at such a hungry stare, it didn't drool. It would eat a bite of its own food, then look at me two or three times.
If someone didn't know better, they'd think I was starving it.
Just then, Dr. Lu replied to my message with a meme of a bear waving hello.
I quickly asked her if it was okay for dogs to eat human food. She replied promptly, but the message left me a little puzzled.
[Your dog can eat human food. You can raise it like a person; it can eat whatever you eat.]
I was confused. I sent a question mark in reply. I thought there were some things that dogs couldn't eat?
[Haha, don't worry, your dog is super easy to care for, and it's very tough, not fragile like regular pet dogs! Note: only for your dog.]
I still found Dr. Lu's words rather strange. She specifically mentioned that only my dog was like this, which made me wonder: Is my dog tougher because it's wild?
[Dr. Lu, does this mean if I eat chocolate and my dog wants some, I can give it to it?]
[Yes, but only for your dog! Don't worry, it's very strong! Strong inside and out!]
After reading this, I felt reassured.
Looking at the dog again, I walked over and asked, "Do you not like dog food?"
Its tail lightly swished across the floor, its eyes focusing on my expression as though it were pondering how to respond.
"It's okay, if you don't like it, don't eat it. From now on, you can eat what I eat."
Its golden eyes brightened for a moment, and it grinned, nodding and rubbing against my leg affectionately. But it pushed a little too hard, and I, squatting down, was knocked over. My glasses slid down my nose.
I adjusted my glasses and looked at it. It looked back at me.
Dog: "…"
Seeing me sit back with a thud, its grin faded, and its ears drooped, as if it felt confused and guilty.
I rubbed its neck and said, "You're too strong. Next time we go out shopping, you can't just pull away. Otherwise, I'll definitely fall."
I packed away the remaining dog food. Since the dog was big, I had bought two large bags, but I probably wouldn't need them all, so I could share some with the stray dogs around the company.
I filled its special dog bowl with food and divided the soup into a small bowl. I brought the food to it.
This time, the dog happily finished everything, practicing the "clean plate" policy.
Right, when we met at the resort, I also fed it barbecue, and it ate happily.
After eating, I cleaned up the kitchen and checked its injury. It was healing quickly; in another two or three days, I should be able to take it to the pet store for a bath.
I sat on the sofa, and when it was about to jump up, I held my palm against its snout.
"No, you can't come up yet, you haven't had a bath, you're still dirty."
Seeing my blocking gesture, it wasn't too happy and spun around in place. But since I didn't change my attitude, it had no choice but to sit down by the coffee table.
The TV was on in the living room. I stretched my legs out on the low stool when, suddenly, the dog's paw hooked at my sock.
I looked up from my phone and raised my right leg, tapping its paw. "What's up?"
It didn't bark, just looked at me with its wet eyes and cautiously placed its head on my leg.
Oh, so cute. I finally understood the meaning of "having a dog is better than having a boyfriend."
"Alright, you can lean on me like this."
Getting my permission, it happily nestled against me. Once my leg went numb, it moved to the other side to rest its head there.
The dog was happily using my legs as its pillow. By around nine in the evening, I noticed fewer people were out in the neighborhood. It should befine to take it for a walk now.
"We're going out for a walk." I grabbed its muzzle and leash, calling it over.
The dog sat down in front of me, and after smoothly putting on the gear, I rewarded it with some beef treats I was eating.
As Dr. Lu said, it could eat whatever I ate, so I wanted to see if it was fine with my food. If it is, I won't need to buy dog food in the future.
I led the dog downstairs. The lights in the hallway were motion-sensor lights. On the second floor, I ran into a colleague from the company who was also staying here. We usually just nod at each other when we meet.
When he saw me walking with such a big dog, my male colleague seemed quite curious and reached out to touch it, but the dog dodged him.
He was several years younger than me, carefree and didn't mind, so after exchanging greetings, he went upstairs.
My dog, however, kept staring up the stairs, its gaze cold and almost predatory, like a dangerous beast.
Was it especially wary of adult men?
"What's up? Don't show your teeth to people. No being aggressive, you hear me? Be a good dog."
When I noticed its sharp white fangs faintly visible under the muzzle, I lightly tapped its forehead in warning.
Its eyes immediately softened, and it obediently leaned against my leg again.
Once outside, I let the dog familiarize itself with the neighborhood environment. It was still a bit nervous, afraid it might jump on people. But I didn't show these feelings on the surface, remaining calm and collected.
At this time, the neighborhood was quiet, with few people out walking, and most of the people doing square dancing had already finished. Occasionally, a few residents passed by. Those who liked dogs would stop and chat with me, while others would walk around us.
Once I judged that someone was afraid of dogs, I would grip the leash tighter.
What was reassuring was that the dog itself was calm. It seemed even more sensitive than I was. If it noticed someone was scared, it would stop walking on its own, staying close to me and trying not to intimidate anyone.
However, people who liked dogs still couldn't touch it. It only let me pet it, and when I did, it happily flopped down,exposing its belly. Of course, its tail cleverly shielded its important parts.
After walking three laps around the neighborhood, the dog had memorized the area. By now, it was almost 10 p.m. Considering I had work tomorrow, I didn't extend the walk.
There are times when overtime happens at the company, but it's rare. In winter, our working hours are from nine to five, with holidays as usual, and weekends off.
The happiness level of working at this company is very high. Employee turnover is low, meaning people tend to stay for along time, and many senior colleagues retire from their positions, even coming back for reemployment.
Thinking about it, I realized I had plenty of time to be with the dog. I hoped it wouldn't feel lonely. On weekends, I could take it to the park or join dog meetups.
"Let's head back."
I patted its head and gently tugged on the leash. It got up inresponseto the pull.
Looking at the big, gentle dog in front of me, I finally remembered two important things: first, I should give it a name. Second, I need to tell my family that I've adopted it and will bring it home for the New Year during the holiday.