Based off into the kennel by rjdog115
They gave me two choices. Me, or my son. I'd never let them get their damn filthy hands on Sherman, even if it costs me my life. I guess that answers one question, but my more pressing question still remains; what do they want with Sherman? I advise you to no longer read this account, for it is quite melancholy. As very well put "If you are interested in stories with happy endings, you would be better off reading some other book. In this book, not only is there no happy ending, there is no happy beginning and very few happy things in the middle." - Lemmony Snickket.
Day 1:
I was making my, if I dare be boastful, amazing pizza. Sherman walked in the kitchen, and we conversed as I finished spicing, topping, and perfecting the food. Our conversation nearly became nonexistent, we both too focused on eating the meal. I absolutely love cooking extravagant meals, but it's honestly great to go to basics now and again. It's neither of our favorite food, but close still. We finished the pizza and moved to help. Sherman washed while I dried. It took us a bit to finish, but we didn't mind. Intellectual conversations were enjoyed mutually between us, and so we debated commonly. Some things so simply and would seem so obvious, and some things so abstract, there are equal points for either argument.
We both sat in the living room, in front of a crackling fire, sipping my secret tea recipe. Reading, a favorite past time we shared. The books we read were quite different though. Sherman was reading a book about a girl who doesn't fit into very strict groups, and so they call her Divergent. I, however, an reading a scientific article on the study of a new understanding of time and space. The clock rang 8 and so we closed our books and went started our nightly schedule. Like clockwork, we did everything this way. We brushed our teeth, and said our goodnights. With this, we parted each room of our own, and faded into the blackness that is sleep.