Chapter 2The Role I Played

When I was reading this post, my best friend Sarah and I had just finished picking out a pet villa.

Driving, Sarah said, "Lucky choosing you as his owner in this life is simply the greatest happiness a dog could have."

"A luxury pet playhouse for $2,000 a day, and you rented it without blinking. How many dogs get to live such a luxurious life?"

I smiled. "Last time he saw dogs playing there on TV, he was so excited. I thought, if other dogs have it, my dog must have it too."

"Though it does hurt my wallet a bit. Two months' salary gone."

Sarah rolled her eyes at me. "Stop pretending. Give you another chance, and you'd pay the deposit without hesitation."

The scenery outside the window blurred past. She sighed, "Time flies. In the blink of an eye, Lucky is almost 14."

I nodded in agreement. But my gaze was drawn back to the post where the OP asked: [Should I pretend to run away and die secretly? Would that make Mom feel better?]

For some reason, I suddenly thought of Lucky at home, with his white muzzle.