Pampered Puppy || closed
@kings-boy
“ We’re out of milk! ” Charlie called to his new owner with a whine from the kitchen, letting the fridge door fall to a heavy close as he turned to trudge out to the living room. “ And everything else... ” he muttered under his breath bitterly, soon after, tail giving an annoyed flick behind his knees. What a surprise.
A week. He’d been in this shitty little apartment for a week, and this Gary-- sorry, Eggy --could scarcely look after him. It’d been a fight to win the master bed in the first few days, like he should so rightfully have anyway, given his pedigree was worth more than the man himself. He didn’t even have a quarter of the channels on the telly that Charlie did back home, the neighbours here were deplorable, making noise at all hours of the day, they weren’t allowed to run much heat lest the bill get too high, and now there wasn’t even any food fit for him in the fridge! If this kept up he wouldn’t make it a week more, he’d be a starved and frozen little pupsicle, dead of boredom and neglect.
A few paces out from the tiny kitchen, and he was in the tiny living space, one musky old couch and loveseat strewn with the shepherd’s heaping nest of blankets he’d made for himself. He headed straight for it, ears flopped back on his head with clear displeasure at his whole lot in life. Pawing at the blankets, moving them just right, Charlie crawled up onto them and flopped on his belly, planting his face in the armrest while his arms and legs hung out over each of them. For someone so small (especially for his age), he knew how to take up a lot of space.
