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Description
Craig tossed and turned. No matter how he lay, he couldn’t escape it. The sound of crying, it just wouldn't stop! Just when you thought it was over, and you were starting to drift off…it started again. He wasn’t heartless, but he never gave in to crying…never…but this was getting on his nerves. He glanced at the clock radio, the red light glared teasingly at him. This had been going on for three hours, non-stop. When the sound started again, he sat up. He couldn’t see a thing in the dark room, but he knew that “it” sat there, just beside the bed on his side, staring at him.

“Shut the hell up! Will you please - shut the hell up?!”

It didn’t help that it felt like he was coming down with a cold, and he was now starting to feel really miserable. A snuffed nose and a sore throat could make anyone cranky, but on top of this not being allowed to sleep through it made everything even worse. Two seconds passed in silence, then it started again and this time it was followed by a movement and someone scraping the bedside.

“NO! You are not coming up here! Stay…you have a perfectly ok bed…”

A deep sigh was heard in the dark. Silence. Somebody was moving around. A soft ruffling sound, near the door where the wastebasket was, made him sit up again.

“No! Let-IT-be! Go-TO-bed! HUSH!”

Then he heard the telltale sound. Oh, for fucks sake. Not again! It was moving about. He threw out his arm to turn the lights on, but managed instead to knock the lamp over instead. The man cursed. Swinging his legs over the side, before he could stop himself his left foot was placed right in a yellow puddle of warm liquid. It had been soundless. It wasn’t everything; there was a different kind of pile as well near the bed. Small pieces were all that remained of his nice sneakers were scattered together with what had to be kibble sprayed on the ground, visible even in the slightly dim light of the lamp on the night stand.

He wasn’t sure if his eye twitched or not, but he felt himself getting angry. The lack of sleep and the cold wasn’t helping his mood. Craig tightened his fists as he turned around. The culprit lay on the old blanket he had found in one of the drawers. Pale yellow eyes looked at him. They were surrounded by a brick red, wrinkly skin. The man glared at the creature. Ever so slowly the tip of a tail started moving. Soon the movement continued through the animal causing every part of it to wiggle and waggle. Its small ears pulled back made its skull look really round. The puppy wiggled and waggled its way towards his feet where it flipped to its back, and then from that location it looked up at him, tail still wagging wildly. Against his will, Craig found himself smirking.

Earlier that evening, he had found the puppy in a cardboard box that was taped closed and dumped near the complex where he lived at the moment. It had been the sound that had stopped him. A box simply didn’t whimper and after hesitating he had opened it. Inside he had found a very dirty thing that had been overjoyed to be rescued. As thanks, the creature had eaten half of his sneakers, pooped and left several puddles of pee on the floor during the five minutes when he went to the 7-11 store nearby to get some dog food. When he took him outside to do his thing the puppy had just looked at him like he was stupid. In the next second, he had spotted a cat and started to chase it. That ended with Craig having to rescue him from a pool and then walking home in the rain. As soon as they came back into the room he gave the puppy a good wash, which is never an easy task with a squirming puppy, but the result was at least somewhat cleaner. The other sneaker wound up in shreds as he took a warming shower himself. By the time he came out, the contents of the wastebasket were scattered all over the room.

Why he had taken the puppy, he didn’t know. He could have left it, ignored the whimpering and closed his door on it. If it hadn’t been for the fact that he actually had a heart. Most didn’t know he could care of something else than himself. Craig sighed again after he had cleaned the latest mess up, tossing the sodden toilet paper into the water and flushing. All the while the puppy had watched him, tail wagging and just the right amount of drool dripping from floppy lips. He reached down and took him up as he sat down on the bed.

“Barf…*cough*…what am I going to do with you….you little bugger…”

At that, the puppy wagged his tail again and gave him a lick on the nose.

"Barf" is a dogue de bordeaux (like Hootch in "Turner & Hooch")
Ref: Shutterstock.com

Description
Craig tossed and turned. No matter how he lay, he couldn’t escape it. The sound of crying, it just wouldn't stop! Just when you thought it was over, and you were starting to drift off…it started again. He wasn’t heartless, but he never gave in to crying…never…but this was getting on his nerves. He glanced at the clock radio, the red light glared teasingly at him. This had been going on for three hours, non-stop. When the sound started again, he sat up. He couldn’t see a thing in the dark room, but he knew that “it” sat there, just beside the bed on his side, staring at him.

“Shut the hell up! Will you please - shut the hell up?!”

It didn’t help that it felt like he was coming down with a cold, and he was now starting to feel really miserable. A snuffed nose and a sore throat could make anyone cranky, but on top of this not being allowed to sleep through it made everything even worse. Two seconds passed in silence, then it started again and this time it was followed by a movement and someone scraping the bedside.

“NO! You are not coming up here! Stay…you have a perfectly ok bed…”

A deep sigh was heard in the dark. Silence. Somebody was moving around. A soft ruffling sound, near the door where the wastebasket was, made him sit up again.

“No! Let-IT-be! Go-TO-bed! HUSH!”

Then he heard the telltale sound. Oh, for fucks sake. Not again! It was moving about. He threw out his arm to turn the lights on, but managed instead to knock the lamp over instead. The man cursed. Swinging his legs over the side, before he could stop himself his left foot was placed right in a yellow puddle of warm liquid. It had been soundless. It wasn’t everything; there was a different kind of pile as well near the bed. Small pieces were all that remained of his nice sneakers were scattered together with what had to be kibble sprayed on the ground, visible even in the slightly dim light of the lamp on the night stand.

He wasn’t sure if his eye twitched or not, but he felt himself getting angry. The lack of sleep and the cold wasn’t helping his mood. Craig tightened his fists as he turned around. The culprit lay on the old blanket he had found in one of the drawers. Pale yellow eyes looked at him. They were surrounded by a brick red, wrinkly skin. The man glared at the creature. Ever so slowly the tip of a tail started moving. Soon the movement continued through the animal causing every part of it to wiggle and waggle. Its small ears pulled back made its skull look really round. The puppy wiggled and waggled its way towards his feet where it flipped to its back, and then from that location it looked up at him, tail still wagging wildly. Against his will, Craig found himself smirking.

Earlier that evening, he had found the puppy in a cardboard box that was taped closed and dumped near the complex where he lived at the moment. It had been the sound that had stopped him. A box simply didn’t whimper and after hesitating he had opened it. Inside he had found a very dirty thing that had been overjoyed to be rescued. As thanks, the creature had eaten half of his sneakers, pooped and left several puddles of pee on the floor during the five minutes when he went to the 7-11 store nearby to get some dog food. When he took him outside to do his thing the puppy had just looked at him like he was stupid. In the next second, he had spotted a cat and started to chase it. That ended with Craig having to rescue him from a pool and then walking home in the rain. As soon as they came back into the room he gave the puppy a good wash, which is never an easy task with a squirming puppy, but the result was at least somewhat cleaner. The other sneaker wound up in shreds as he took a warming shower himself. By the time he came out, the contents of the wastebasket were scattered all over the room.

Why he had taken the puppy, he didn’t know. He could have left it, ignored the whimpering and closed his door on it. If it hadn’t been for the fact that he actually had a heart. Most didn’t know he could care of something else than himself. Craig sighed again after he had cleaned the latest mess up, tossing the sodden toilet paper into the water and flushing. All the while the puppy had watched him, tail wagging and just the right amount of drool dripping from floppy lips. He reached down and took him up as he sat down on the bed.

“Barf…*cough*…what am I going to do with you….you little bugger…”

At that, the puppy wagged his tail again and gave him a lick on the nose.

"Barf" is a dogue de bordeaux (like Hootch in "Turner & Hooch")
Ref: Shutterstock.com