PJ looked up at his father with pleading eyes, his voice filled with longing. "Please, please, please, Daddy, can I have a dog?" he begged, hoping that today might be different. His father glanced over the top of his newspaper, a familiar look of hesitation on his face. "Maybe one day, but not now, PJ. It’s a lot of responsibility," he replied, as PJ’s shoulders slumped in disappointment.
PJ was puzzled as they drove, his father unusually quiet beside him. "Where are we going, Dad?" he asked, curiosity piquing his interest. His father smiled enigmatically. "You’ll see soon enough," he said. The car came to a stop outside the dog pound, a place PJ had dreamed of visiting.
PJ felt a mix of excitement and nerves as they walked through the aisles. His eyes scanned each cage, looking for the one dog that would be his companion. "Look, Dad, over there!" PJ exclaimed, pointing to a dog wagging its tail, holding a ragged blanket in its mouth. His father chuckled. "I think he likes you," he said, as the dog pressed its nose against the bars, eyes full of hope.
PJ held his breath as the lady behind the desk smiled warmly at them. "Yes, that dog is for sale," she said, "but it costs £50." PJ’s heart sank. He and his father counted their money, but they were still short. "What do we do now, Dad?" PJ asked, worry creasing his brow. His father placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Let’s go home and see if your mum and siblings can help," he suggested.
PJ's Mum emptied her purse, adding her share to the pile. His siblings, eager to help, contributed their savings. "Do we have enough now?" PJ asked anxiously. They counted again, excitement building. His father grinned broadly. "We did it, PJ! We have £50!" he announced, as cheers erupted around the room.
PJ rushed to the cage, his heart dropping when he saw it empty. Tears welled in his eyes. "Oh no, we’re too late," he whispered. Suddenly, a movement caught his eye—his chosen dog emerging from a kennel, blanket in tow. "You came back for me!" it seemed to say, tail wagging furiously. His father laughed, relief washing over him. "Let’s take him home, PJ," he said, as they finalized the adoption.
PJ sat in the back seat, his new dog close beside him, the beloved blanket clutched in its teeth. "We’ll call you Mr. Jake," PJ declared, stroking the dog’s fur. His nephews, Micheál and Daniel, awaited eagerly at home, ready to meet their new furry friend. As they arrived, the joyous barks of Mr. Jake filled the air, matching the laughter of a family complete.
