Logbook Of A Reluctant Dog-Sitter

Goldie the pup, so fast, so spry,
Chasing the red car zooming by!
Zooming in circles, paws in a blur, 
But that shiny ride’s just a teasing spur!

So, I got the bad news—my nephew is going on a camping trip organized by his school, and my brother is too busy to pick up the puppy. That means I’m stuck taking care of the hyperactive fluffball. 

Just between you and me, I think my brother just wanted one less pet at home, hoping to lessen the chaos. Oh, he’s so getting pranked for this. Now, I need to brainstorm some prank ideas. 

The main priority now is enlisting help. Let’s see who’s going to be the unlucky victim—ahem!—I mean, co-dog-sitter. Why is the house so silent? Where are the chaos siblings? It’s like the universe is conspiring against me. 

But I’m not letting this go so easily. Time to consult the GPS… 

I opened the door, tiptoed inside, and whispered, “Do you know where the troublesome two are?” Got a glare in return, but I ignored it. 

Then, in an equally hushed tone, I got a reply: “Shopping.” “Basement.” Didn’t take me a minute to figure out who was where. Thanking her, I slipped out, closing the door behind me. 

If you haven’t realized who the GPS is, let me clarify—it’s Mom. I guess it’s pretty normal; moms always know where their babies are. 

Heading to the basement, I opened the door and was bombarded with… rock? Punk? Metal? I don’t know, but it was grating. No offense to anyone who loves it—everyone has their own preferences. 

Now, I’ve successfully enlisted help. (It did take some bribing on my end. Hey, don’t judge me! That’s pretty normal between siblings.) Leaving the puppy in my brother’s hands, I went to the kitchen. 

A triple chocolate cake sat —classic chocolate cake with chocolate frosting between the layers, topped with chocolate glaze and chocolate chips. I don’t know how he can eat that—isn’t it too much chocolate? If it were me, I’d have added coffee and made it a mocha cake. 

After putting it in the freezer for the glaze to set, I took out my trusty little notepad and started brainstorming. I came up with two pretty good ideas—my brother won’t have a clue what hit him. 

Time to check on little brother and the puppy. 

I could totally imagine my younger brother chasing the puppy around the living room, but when I walked in, I saw him lounging on the sofa. Glancing around, I spotted the puppy chasing a red race car. Okay, I’ll give him credit—that’s a pretty good idea. 

The smirk and gloating face, though? I wanted to smack him with a book. 

Sighing in defeat, I pointed toward the kitchen where the triple chocolate cake was. Now, he’s sitting with the cake, enjoying a TV show, while I’m stuck playing race car with the dog. 

Does your puppy chase cars?