My Encounters with Werewolves

New Routine

After wiping the dog's paws upon returning home at night, I took off my glasses and went to the bathroom. I secured my bangs with a headband and started my skincare routine. The dog bumped my calf twice, and looking down, I saw it at my leg with its tail wagging slightly.

It really is quite clingy.

I don’t fuss much over my skincare—just moisturizing and a black face mask. After applying the mask, I went to lie on the sofa in the living room. The dog followed me, tilting its head as it looked at my masked face.

I patted its head and pulled out my phone to message two groups, one with my family and the other with my coworkers. I first informed my family that I had adopted a large dog, sending over a photo of it. Switching to the other group, I shared a few name ideas with Liu Mei and Ouyang Jing.

"Shuai Shuai, Zhuang Zhuang, are you serious?" Liu Mei was the first to question, sending a meme to mock my taste. Although my suggested repetitive names sounded a bit old-fashioned, they were filled with my best wishes.

"Oz, if you’re going for such an old-fashioned name, why not something festive like Gongxi, Facai, or Laifu?" Ouyang Jing's suggestion made me reconsider, and I immediately discarded the names Shuai Shuai and the like, thinking of something with a better meaning.

At that moment, my mom messaged, asking if I had named the dog yet. I said no. My family wasn’t very supportive of me raising a dog, but they didn’t object either, only mentioning that I didn’t even have a boyfriend yet but already had a dog. My response was that the dog might bring good luck, and maybe things would get better with it around.

The older generation found some sense in that and eagerly started brainstorming names. Naming the dog was urgent; I wanted to decide before bed. I wrote down the names suggested by my parents and myself on pieces of paper.

"Come here and sit." The dog obediently sat as I commanded, and I placed the six pieces of paper in front of it. "Whichever name you like, touch it with your paw, and that will be your name."

The dog's long, thick eyelashes cast shadows under the light, and its golden eyes shifted from my face to the papers on the floor. I was mesmerized by its beauty and thought Shuai Shuai still suited it well.

It seemed to ponder seriously, finally pressing its paw on one of the papers. Removing its paw, I picked up the paper to see the name.

“** (Pang Pang/Fatty)”

Wait, did I write that name? Looking at the paper and then at the dog, this name didn’t match it at all, yet it seemed quite proud. It must have been my mom’s suggestion. I checked the chat history and confirmed it.

“Hold this.” I handed the paper with "Pang Pang" to the dog, and it cooperatively bit down on it. Holding my phone with one hand and the dog's head with the other, I took a photo of us, looking very affectionate, and sent it to the group.

From now on, the dog’s name would be Pang Pang.

Although I didn’t find much meaning in the name, it seemed to suit the dog somehow, especially given my mom’s choice. Unsurprisingly, my friends in the group chat mercilessly mocked the name Pang Pang. However, when I mentioned it was my mother’s choice, their attitudes changed immediately—such is reality.

I started calling the dog Pang Pang to help it get used to the name. It responded right away, alleviating my unnecessary worries.

After removing my face mask, rinsing with water, and drying my face, I prepared for bed. Pang Pang followed me into the bedroom. I gently nudged it with my foot, “Out.”

This time, its intelligence seemed to vanish selectively. It lay on its back at the door, making it impossible to close. Finally, it showed a bit of a dog’s stubbornness.

I tried to push it, thinking it should be easy to move its hundred-pound body. Rolling up my sleeves, I pushed with both hands, but it didn’t budge. Its tail wagged right in front of me. Grabbing and rubbing its fluffy tail, I realized it genuinely wanted to enter my bedroom.

But considering its shedding, my room might soon be covered in dog hair. Its good behavior wasn’t a concern, though.

We had slept together before, back at the resort, where it stayed at the foot of the bed without causing trouble.

As I rubbed its tail and pondered, I softened. I took out a five-pound quilt to make a dog bed and found a blanket. Seeing me make the bed, its eyes shifted to my bed, pawing at the hanging bedspread.

"Do you want to sleep on the bed?" I deduced from its behavior. Pang Pang wagged its tail and grinned.

Allowing it into the room was already a concession, and given it hadn’t been bathed and still had injuries, I firmly said, “No, you sleep here.”

“...Woof.”

It whimpered softly, sounding aggrieved. I didn’t relent, ignoring its plea. Realizing my determination, it returned to its aloof demeanor, supervising me making its bed.

The bedroom had a twenty-centimeter-high window seat. Initially, I planned to place the bed there but worried about drafts. So, I moved it beside my bed.

It seemed satisfied with this spot.

It felt like a lot had happened today. Watching Pang Pang settle in its bed, I finally turned off the bedside lamp and wrapped myself in the thick blanket to sleep.

The next morning, I woke up at seven, the cold making me reluctant to move. Without the air conditioner running all night, the air outside the blanket felt like it had bone-chilling knives. But thinking about having a dog, I couldn’t be lazy. I planned to buy vegetables at the nearby market and walk the dog.

I put on my glasses from the bedside table. Pang Pang also opened its eyes, seeming to match my schedule. After brushing my teeth and washing my face, I used pet grooming products on Pang Pang, then put on its muzzle and leash and headed to the market.

Though there was a supermarket outside the complex, dogs weren’t allowed, so the market was more suitable. Running there and back took about half an hour, just enough to warm up.

I quickly made soy milk, then heated a pan to fry eggs and meat, also making a large serving of boiled vegetables, most of which was for Pang Pang.

After breakfast, it was only 8:20, so I leisurely walked to work. I packed my bag, with two large lunch boxes inside, and headed to the door. Pang Pang followed me.

With its height, I didn’t need to bend much to pat its head. It seemed to want to leave with me. “Stay. Go back inside.”

“…”

“I’ll bring you lunch at noon.”

The company’s lunch break was an hour and a half, enough time to bring lunch home for the dog. I clocked in before nine and started working. Occasionally, when not busy, I thought about Pang Pang at home.

At eleven, I made tea in the break room, where Liu Mei was resting. She asked about Pang Pang, so I shared a video of the dog.

“So, it’s home alone at noon? Did you leave it dog food?”

“No, I’ll bring it lunch from the cafeteria and eat with Pang Pang.”

Liu Mei frowned, “It doesn’t like dog food?”

“It’s okay, but it prefers human food.”

“You’re raising it like a village dog.”

I replied seriously, “Buying groceries is cheaper than high-end dog food.”

“…”

We chatted for ten minutes before returning to our desks. I began considering installing a camera in the living room to check on the dog occasionally. Having something to care about, while initially strange, felt warm and wasn’t a bad thing.

When lunch came, I rushed to the cafeteria, returning home with two hot meals twenty minutes later. Opening the door, I found Pang Pang waiting. It didn’t jump excitedly but walked over to rub against me.

Having learned from previous incidents where it accidentally knocked me over, it restrained itself.

The midday interaction was brief. I didn’t have time to wash both lunch boxes, so after resting a bit, I returned to work.

In the evening, around five, I arrived home with groceries, having dinner with Pang Pang by six. Raising it made me healthier than living alone.

After work, I’d either order takeout or snack, often skipping meals because it didn’t seem worth cooking for one. Now, cooking for the dog motivated me, making me healthier. After dinner, we’d go for a walk—such a healthy routine.