Dog: a domesticated carnivore bred in many varieties

"No." His voice is flat, his decision is final, and usually this would be the end of the discussion.

Not today. His petite wife stamps a foot and creates a large crater in the backyard. "Please?" she begs, clasping her hands in front of her chest and pouting prettily.

He sighs. "No, Sakura. I don't want a dog, I am the man of this house, and that is final!"
"But… Sasuke-kun…" she whimpers piteously.

His eyes narrow in frustration. "No!" he snaps. She widens her own emerald eyes and slinks away, looking for all the world like (ironically) a kicked puppy.

He sighs and makes the fatal mistake of glancing at her again. She is giving him a pleading, tearful stare that strikes a guilty chord in his heart.

Now she's going to make him regret snapping at her, and even before he begins to turn away he knows to expect the quiet, bravely muffled sobs that cannot escape his keen ears.

Kuso, Sakura… He grits his teeth and clenches his hands into fists, mentally fighting himself.

Say no, one part of him urges. You're the man!
She's crying,
another part of him points out nastily. You made her cry again.

Ignore her, still another part of him insists.

Finally, the sound is too much to bear, and he turns back to Sakura, scowling in exasperation.

"Fine, Sakura," he mumbles. "We can get a dog."

In an instant, her arms are wrapped around his neck as she sobs her thanks. He awkwardly pats her back, at a loss for what to do.

And as her face is over his shoulder, he completely misses the smug smirk on her lips.

Gotcha.

End.