Buddy's Diary - February 19: Hey Little Bear - Sweet Dog Stories in English

Simple Short Stories in English for Easy English Reading Practice

She’s very cute. Everyone says that. They all gaze down at her, cooing, making adoring sounds, and showering her with compliments. I call her Little Bear because she looks like one—a big round ball of white fluff. Blondie. “She’s a purebred. A pedigree.” Her human says proudly. The little girl is very proud but not arrogant, just elegant and pleased with herself.

But I don’t mind. I think she’s pretty, too, and I tell her. She wags her tail and draws near. “Let’s be friends, Little Bear?” I ask hopefully.

So far, every other dog apart from Cookie has snubbed me in this place. I don’t know why! Each time I see one, I pull, pull, pull on my leash towards them, whining and wagging my tail so hard it almost comes off, trying desperately to reach them and make friends. Girl lets me walk up to them, but almost all of them turn away and walk off. So snobby! So cold! So unfriendly!

One big, older dog who wears a blue sweater even runs away from me every single time, like he’s afraid of me! Such a strange dog. The little chihuahuas ignore me, noses in the air, like I’m not good enough to be their friend.

But Little Bear was playful and friendly. She’s just one month older than me, so we’re almost on the same level! I play with her eagerly. But Little Bear doesn’t just want to romp.

“Poo in your bed!” she suddenly yells teasingly in her high-pitched, little squeaky voice.

I’m thrilled! A funny little friend with character! I growl. She growls back. “Poo in your food dish!” I yell excitedly. She growls excitedly and dashes around our two humans like a little tornado. I give chase.

“Yellow poo in your water dish!” she yaps, grinning over her shoulder at me.

I charge after her, growing more excited by the moment with each playful taunt. “Brown poo on your head!” I yelp. She growls in delight. “Orange poo in your ears!” she squeaks. We face off, eyeing each other, tensing, crouching, then pouncing. We bite and romp. Then we separate and she dashes for it. I give chase again.

And then I give a naughty grin. I get really mischievous. “SOAP all over your back!” I yell.

That does it. She gives a tremendous growl and pounces at me instead of running. We fight and bark and growl. “Two showers a day for you!” she howls.
“Four for you!” I retort.

“A night at the vet!” she says.

Now, that was too much. That hurts. That’s just mean, not funny. We separate, growling and frowning at each other.

“Well, I didn’t REALLY mean it,” she tries to make up, but I’m offended. I yap at her and she yaps back. Then the Big Nice Lady pulls Little Bear away. I sadly watch her being taken away.

“Come out again soon!” I shout after her.

“We’re still friends, right?” Little Bear asks anxiously, trailing after her human, her pretty little eyes fixed on me.

“Yes, yes!” I yap, jumping in the air and wagging my tail.

“Good! I like you! You’re fun!” my new little white fluffy friend says. And then she’s gone.

I sigh. Well, at least someone has a sense of humor and likes to play. We go home and I lie down, brainstorming my next witty repertoire for the next time we meet—if we ever do again. I hope so.