My Encounters with Werewolves

Settling In

After sorting the pet supplies, I was still contemplating whether to buy a crate. Judging by how well-behaved the dog was, it didn’t seem necessary. I called the dog to the bathroom and commanded, "Sit."

The floor was dry, so its fur wouldn’t get wet. It looked around and then sat down. Taking out a pet brush, I started grooming its fur. After just a couple of strokes, hair flew everywhere. This was the only trouble with having a fluffy dog – the shedding.

A tuft of hair landed on my glasses, narrowing my field of vision. The dog seemed to want to blow the hair off my glasses, but I stopped it by covering its mouth.

"Sit still."

The dog licked my palm, slightly uneasy but remaining seated. I used a lint roller to remove the hair from my sweater and cleaned my glasses. Wearing a mask, I continued brushing its fur. The dog closed its eyes comfortably, and when I got close, it would seize the opportunity to lick my earlobe.

Sometimes it accidentally knocked my glasses askew, and I would grab its snout playfully. After a brief tussle, it playfully bumped into my chest, causing me to fall back with a thud.

Dog: "..."

Unbothered, I patted my backside and stood up. After tidying up, I went to wash the vegetables and cook dinner.

For dinner, I made three dishes and a soup and prepared a full bowl of dog food. However, the dog kept glancing at my food. Despite its dog food costing more than my meal, and containing all necessary nutrients, it still looked at my food longingly.

It seemed as though I was mistreating it, with it eating a bit of its food and then looking at mine a couple of times. Just then, Dr. Lu responded to my earlier message, sending a bear waving emoji.

I quickly asked her if dogs could eat human food. She replied swiftly, but her message puzzled me.

[Your dog can eat human food. Treat it like a human; whatever you eat, it can eat too.]

Confused, I sent a question mark. I remembered that some foods were harmful to dogs.

[Haha, don’t worry. Your dog is exceptionally robust and not as delicate as typical pet dogs! But remember, this advice is specific to your dog.]

Dr. Lu’s words seemed extraordinary. She emphasized that only my dog was like this, implying that because it was wild, it was particularly strong?

[Dr. Lu, does that mean if I eat chocolate and my dog wants some, I can give it to him?]

[Yes, but only your dog! Don’t worry, it’s very resilient! Strong inside and out!]

Her assurance finally put me at ease.

Looking at the dog again, I walked over and asked, "Do you not like dog food?"

Its tail swept lightly across the floor, and it watched my expression as if weighing how to respond.

"No worries, if you don’t like it, you don’t have to eat it. From now on, you’ll eat what I eat."

Its golden eyes brightened for a moment, and it nodded, rubbing against my leg affectionately. But the nudge was too strong, and I ended up falling again, with my glasses slipping down my nose.

Adjusting my glasses, I looked at it, and it looked back at me.

Dog: "..."

Seeing me fall back, the dog’s smile faded, its ears drooping in confusion and guilt.

I patted its neck, instructing, "You’re too strong. When we go out, you can’t break free, or I’ll get hurt."

I packed up the remaining dog food, having bought two big bags because of its size. Now, I could donate them to stray dogs near my office.

Using its special dog bowl, I filled it with food and divided some soup into a small bowl. I served the food, and this time, it happily finished everything, leaving no leftovers.

After tidying up the kitchen, I checked its injuries, which were healing quickly. In two or three days, it would be ready for a bath at the pet store.

Sitting on the sofa, I blocked the dog’s mouth with my palm as it tried to climb up.

"No, you can’t come up. You’re dirty."

Unhappy with my refusal, it circled once before sitting by the coffee table. I placed my legs on the footstool, and suddenly, my sock was hooked by its paw.

I shifted my gaze from my phone and tapped its paw with my right foot. "What’s wrong?"

It didn’t bark, just looked at me with wet eyes, then cautiously rested its head on my leg.

Oh, so cute. I finally understood why people say having a dog is better than a boyfriend.

"Alright, you can lean on me."

With my permission, it comfortably leaned on me, shifting to rest on my other leg when one went numb.

The dog tirelessly used my legs as pillows. Around nine at night, noticing fewer people in the neighborhood, I decided it was a good time for a walk.

"Let’s go for a walk." Grabbing the muzzle and leash, I called it over.

The dog sat obediently, and after fitting the gear smoothly, I rewarded its good behavior with some beef chunks I was eating.

Dr. Lu said my dog could eat what I eat, so I’ll test this. If it’s okay, I won’t buy dog food anymore.

Taking the dog downstairs, the hallway lights were motion-sensitive. On the second floor, I encountered a coworker who also stayed in the building. We usually just nodded in passing.

Seeing me with such a big dog, the younger male coworker seemed intrigued and reached out to pet it, but the dog dodged.

Unfazed, he greeted me and continued upstairs. My dog, however, kept watching him, eyes cold and menacing like a beast’s.

Was it particularly wary of grown men?

"Stop it. Don’t bare your teeth or be aggressive. Understand? Be a good dog."

Seeing its sharp fangs under the muzzle, I tapped its head lightly.

Its eyes cleared, and it obediently stayed by my leg.

Outside, I first let the dog familiarize itself with the neighborhood. I was a bit nervous about it lunging at people, but I maintained a calm exterior.

At that hour, few people were out walking, and most dancers had left. Occasionally, residents passed by, some stopping to chat if they liked dogs, others avoiding us.

If I sensed someone was afraid, I held the leash tighter. Besides my precautions, the dog’s own calmness reassured me. It sensed fear and would stop, sticking close to me without scaring others.

People who liked it couldn’t pet it, though. It only delighted in my touch, often rolling over and exposing its belly, always modestly covering the key areas with its tail.

After three laps around the neighborhood, the dog knew the area well. It was close to ten, so I didn’t extend our route since I had work tomorrow.

My job sometimes requires overtime, but rarely. In winter, we work 9 to 5 with regular holidays and weekends off.

The job satisfaction is high, with little turnover. Many colleagues retire from their positions, some even returning after retirement.

Thus, I should have plenty of time with my dog, ensuring it won’t be lonely. On weekends, I can take it to the park or dog meet-ups.

"Let’s go back."

I patted its head, gently tugging the leash. It stood up obediently.

Looking at the dog, now as gentle as a lamb, I realized two important things: it needed a name, and I needed to inform my family. I’ll be bringing it home for the holidays.