The Watch Dog: The Runt of the Litter

"What was that sound?" wondered Marcus. "There it is again. Someone in this litter has to be a watchdog and investigate it. It might as well be me.”

He scurried down the stairs. 

Marcus was a pup with huge, brown eyes. He knew that no one would suspect he was trying to be a watchdog because he was the runt of the litter. He was the fourth pup, one of the lucky seven, golden Labrador pups, born to Mickey and Minnie. 

Marcus had soon found that being little had its advantages. He could get into places where the larger pups did not fit. He could also win everyone over with his big, brown eyes.

“You are just too cute!” said Mandy, the five-year old girl, whose parents owned all the golden lab retrievers. She had been devastated when her parents announced that the pups had to go to other homes when they were six weeks old. 

“I want to keep you,” she told Marcus.

“No one else will want the runt of the litter,” replied Marcus, “I am too small.” He was not certain if Mandy understood what he said to her, but it seemed like she did, as he licked her face.

Just at that moment, a tall, dark figure peered in the window of the front door. Huge fingers appeared inside the door, as if they were keeping the lock from making a noise.

Marcus barked furiously and watched as a man quickly ran down the driveway.    

“Who was that?” whispered Mandy. “I don’t know that guy.”

“I don't know him either," Marcus replied, barking up a further storm. "But I'm your watch dog."   

“You are a great watch dog!” Mandy whispered, as she hugged Marcus tight. “Thank you for protecting me!” 

“I have found my task in life,” said Marcus, who was relieved that whoever that was had left. He was not certain what he would have done if things had worked out differently.

“I want to keep Marcus,” Mandy told her parents later. “He’s my watchdog.”

“Good dog," her mother responded, giving Marcus a dog biscuit. “Good watch dog, too.”