Maddie and I had just finished our evening walk. It was a crisp winter evening, as fresh snowfall lay draped over the ground. The wind was biting at my exposed flesh. Cold and bitter. It would be terrible if I was seen like this.

It felt great to get inside my do—, I mean my home, and cozy up next to the fireplace. Maddie jumped up onto my lap, and gave me a saddened look. Maddie was incredibly sad. I knew what she was thinking, and I felt terrible. A Bichon Frise was getting the best of me. I leapt out of my chair, and yelled:

“YOU SHUT YOUR WHORE MOUTH , MADDIE!”

The dog stared blankly at me. I knew what she was thinking, and I felt terrible. I couldn’t live with the guilt of knowing what I had done. I did the unthinkable.

I put Maddie up for adoption. She was adopted by a nice lady, I believe her name was Kate. Kate seemed very enthused to take Maddie under her care. I’m glad the dog is happy.

But no one can know our secret.

No one.