The ten words writing challenge.

"... And here's the paperwork. Just sign here," the *vet* said, sliding a document across his desk to me and pointing at a blank line at the bottom. I took the pen he handed me and signed my name. "Thanks, Doctor," I said, as a nurse walked into the office with a familiar tiny chihuahua on a blue leash. I smiled at the nurse, then took the leash and walked out of the clinic, dog in tow. It was a beautiful summer day, with the sun shining and not a cloud in the sky, and yet... my girlfriend was waiting in the car. I opened the driver's side door and smiled at her. "Hey." She smiled brightly back. "Hey! How'd it go?" "Good," I said, leaning on the door, although I doubt getting his *testicles* removed was a pleasant experience for the dog. "Good. Now, you two get in the car." I sighed and looked down at the dog. Leaning over, I picked him up and -- "Gah!" I yelped as a wave of pain rolled through my left hand, where the dog had sunk his teeth. I dropped the animal on the driver's seat and furiously waved my hand around. "You stupid dog!" I yelled, glaring at him. He just stared sweetly back. My girlfriend gasped. "Don't call him stupid! He's just a little cutey-wooty!" she said, scooping him up in his arms and kissing his head. I grumbled something of an apology and got into the car. I had never wanted this dog. My last dog hadn't been very lucky, and after being hit by a car he had to get an *amputation*. A few years later, he was hit by a *Porsche* -- and he *died*. A few months later, my girlfriend decided it was time for a new dog. This was that dog. She said she had debated the pros and *cons* of a new dog beforehand, but I think she just wanted a "cute" little chihuahua. When we got home, my girlfriend showed my a tacky *quilt* that she had bought as the dog's bed. I didn't really care, but I pretended to listen. All I really wanted to do was get back to my *Xbox* and find that golden *sword*. Six hours later. I was asleep when it happened. The alarm hadn't worked. I only woke up because the dog was licking my face. "Hey, stop that," I mumbled, pushing the dog away. Then my eyes shot open. I froze. Fire. I could smell fire. The dog was barking. I rolled over and shook my girlfriend by the shoulders. "Wha-" she said, then she sat up. "What's going on? What's that smell?" "Fire!" I said. "It's fire; there's fire in the house. We have to go. Now. Come on." After grabbing my cell phone from my night table, I jumped out of bed and ran for the front door, holding my girlfrend's hand tightly. I got a glimpse of red from the kitchen as we passed it. We gasped as we tumbled out the front door into the fresh air and ran onto the lawn. I turned on my phone and dialed 911. As the phone rang, I realized something was missing. I panicked. "Where's the dog?" Suddenly, he came running out the front door. My girlfriend let out a choked cry of happiness. Then the phone was answered. "911, what is your emergency?" * Ten minutes later, we were still standing on the lawn, watching our home get soaked by the fire department's water hoses. The fire was gone, and we had been assured that not much more than a few pots and pans had been affected. The lights of the firetruck flashed behind us. After a while of silence, my girlfriend said, "I think you owe someone an apology." "Sorry," I replied immediately, assuming I must have done something to offend her at some point. "Not me," she said. "The dog. Apologize for being mean to him. He just saved us." I looked down at the chihuahua, who was sitting calmly in the grass next to me. He looked up at me with his big eyes. I smiled a little. "Thanks," I said. "I guess I could get used to you." My girlfriend smiled. And I swear, the dog did too. * * *