And so, in that sunny afternoon, she kneels down and pats the beagle on its back, tenderly, lovingly, affectionately. Forcing a smile, she leans down and whispers gently, "It's time for you to leave."
"Why?" Beagle questions, its head tilting to one side. "I thought you and I were good together."
"Good?" she repeats in disbelief, "Try great. Perfect. Which is exactly why you need to go."
Beagle stares at her face, her two pigtails, her big blue aqua eyes. It wags it tails, still excitedly clueless. "But...why?"
"Because you're harmless. Because of your ability to be affectionate. Your passion to be nice, your goal to make me happy, to accompany me whatever mood I am in." The girl stops herself, sighing. "I need a Doberman instead. Big, burly, mean. A killing machine, they say."
Beagle looks confused. "It will hurt you. It will not protect you with affections like what I've been doing all these times."
"So then I know I can fight back when he bites. Then I wouldn't be swimming in guilt every time I realize I said something nasty. Because it won't have the same amount of patience as you do," she smiled. Oh, the fakeness of her smiles recently. The nonexistent layer of sincerity. "You belong to some other seven year old who will be glad to adopt you with open arms, no questions asked."
Finally getting the hint, Beagle's tails stops wagging. Its huge, puppy eyes cast downward.
"Hey," she whispers and closes her eyes as she kissed the top of its head, feeling his fur tickle her nostrils. "There's nothing like you and I."
Jerking back, she swallows hard and places the puppy in the huge dollhouse. It has everything Beagle will ever need - chewy bones, meaty snacks, bottled water, and her favorite old blanket.
She wants to make sure it leaves with its best, most favorite surroundings.
She painfully ignores its whimpers as she makes her way back to her house. She cannot afford to take one last glance. There is no such word as 'last' in our dictionary, remember? The least I can do is keep that promise.
Closing the door behind her, she leans against the wooden door and sighs deeply.
Door locked, windows closed, walls back up. Time to install a new alarm.
