Stronger [Laurroth/Garrance F.F.]

The Great Thanksgiving Birthday DOG-tastrophe

Happy happy happy Thanksgiving to each and everyone one of you amazingly unique people! I am sooo thankful to everyone of you who follows me and reads this book and votes and comments and gives feedback. I would have NEVER been able to reach this far without you. So once again, thank you.

Also, I noticed a slight change in my writing style recently. I was re-reading this, and it seems like Whenever I write in first person (which is all the time), I feel like I make whoever is talking seem like they're talking to someone. Like, Laurance says "I know you know I've spent weeks looking for the perfect present, and I think I found one!" Do you see how I wrote "I know you know" even though he's not talking to anyone in particular? Like, he's actually talking to someone? It makes it seem like he's writing in a journal or something. Do you like that change or naw? I'll try to refrain from doing it if you don't like it.

Laurance

Thanks to Garroth, I was able to feel good enough to make seven dishes of traditional Thanksgiving food to eat with Garroth and I's families.

The day was a blast! All morning, Garroth and I were running around the kitchen, checking things in the oven to make sure they don't overheat, flipping things on the skillet so they don't overcook, retrieving recipes, gathering ingredients, having a meltdown when an ingredient is missing and someone has to go the to the convenience store to get it.

I absolutely loved it.

And I made sure Garroth had an unforgettable time too. Today was his birthday, and I'm determined to make this day go right. So after dinner, we plan to have his cake right after and then give him our birthday gifts. I know you know I've spent weeks looking for the perfect present, and I think I found one! You won't believe it, but I got Garroth a dog.

But I don't want to get too into it. It's a surprise, after all.

I found the dog the day before I got sick. On my walk home, I noticed a little hutch in between the corners of a few store buildings. Curiousity got the best of me, and I peeked inside. There, I found the little white ball of fur in the hutch. He had a teal collar around his neck, but nothing on it. His big brown eyes begged me for food. Hold on, before I call him he forever...

I lifted the dog up and checked whatever their gender was.

It's a boy.

He didn't look so famished, and he wasn't so dirty, so I guessed he was abandoned just recently. He let me pet him, too. That moment I knew this would be a great present for Garroth. I got him for free, too.

And there was also another thought running in my head:

This is so cliché.

And no matter what Garroth says, no matter if its his birthday, we. Are. Not. Naming. Him. Sprinkles.

I fed him bits of the english muffin I bought for breakfast and put him in a convenient cardboard box lying around so I could take him home. I put him in our garage, and hoped he wouldn't make any barking sounds. Leaving him with a bowl of water and some food, I smiled and went to bed happy that night.

It's a west highland white terrier. A westie. Originated from Scotland. I wondered what to name him.

The next day I couldn't take care of him much, but I was able to feed him and secure him in the garage before Garroth found out I was sick. Thankfully, he was as quiet as a mice.

When the cake was being served, I walked over to the garage and opened the door, looking for the dog's little box. I wanted to check on him so he'll be ready by the time we open presents. Before I did though, some toolboxes fell of a rickedy shelf and crashed to the floor, grabbing my attention. Hoping Garroth didn't get suspicious, I cleaned it up quickly and then went to the doggie. Walking over, I was excitedly ready to give him to Garroth, but all my excitement drained away as I saw what was in the box.