“It’s too cute.”
Chorlie tilted her head, staring at the small fluffy creature nestled in the plaid flannel blanket. The fuzz on top of its head was a dark brown tipped wit white, giving it a comical looking pho-hawk. “I think it’s a runt.”
“It’s still just a puppy!” Amy giggled, scratching behind the ears as it yawned.
“I think it’s physically impossible to be that cute,” her friend laughed. She turned away from the puppy to stare out the window beside them. She shook her head, “Ams, it was really bad out there. He’s gotta be pretty sick.”
“He’s just cold,” Amy pouted. Peering up at her friend, she chewed the inside of her lip in thought. “Think we need more blankets?”
“Naw, he’s fine,” the older girl shrugged. “Any more and we won’t be able to find ‘im.”
Amy’s bright eyes regarded the puppy once again, smiling as it rolled onto its back, worming underneath the blanket further. “I’m so glad we found him. Just think, he could have died out there.”
“He’s a tough cookie,” Chorlie said. “He’ll make it.”