The Cursed Dog My Boyfriend Brought Home

My boyfriend adopted an experimental Beagle, and I was about to order its supplies online when the on-screen comments appeared.

Girl, that lab dog is hosting the soul of your dad's illegitimate daughter. Every penny you spend on it goes to her. She's stealing your fortune.

You slave away taking care of it, and she wants you dead.

Buy dog food, she takes your wealth. Groom it, she takes your beauty. Take it to the vet, she takes your health. Everything she gains doubles while you're left with nothing.

In the end, your boyfriend and your dad's illegitimate daughter become one happy family.

Every hair on my body stood on end. I tried to talk to Sidney Henson about giving up the adoption, but he accused me of having no compassion

The dog's been through enough already. It finally has a home. You can't just decide not to keep it.

Are you worried she'll take away some of the love I have for you? Can you not be so petty?

I was so angry I laughed.

He really couldn't tell who held the cards here. I turned around and adopted the meanest, most unhinged cat they hada certified psycho, king of the shelter.

Her life or her stolen fortune. The illegitimate daughter would have to pick one.

Of course Sidney doesn't want you to give up the adoption. That dog's body is a perfect match for your dad's illegitimate daughter.

That bastard planned the whole adoption with your own father. After you die, your mother grieves herself into a car accident.

Your father doesn't spare a second thought. No funeral. He cremates your mother and dumps the ashes in the garbage.

I left the pet adoption center and went straight to the hospital.

Following the on-screen comments' directions, I spotted my father just as they said I would.

He walked into an ICU room. Through the faint reflection in the glass, I saw him pull a woman into his arms.

The dog's been adopted.

The woman's expression eased. She stepped away from my father and moved to the bedside.

She stroked her daughter's ravaged face, her expression gentle.

Then the girl on the bed seized her hand.

The voice that came out was dry and cracked, like a broken bellows

Mom, does that mean I'll get better soon?

As long as Madison Sanchez treats that dog well, I can drain her fortune bit by bit.

Eventually even her looks and her health

When her mother nodded, the girl in the hospital bed laughed like she'd lost her mind.

Her neck, wrapped tight in white gauze, arched high. The sight of it sent a chill straight down my spine.

My father stepped forward, gripped the girl's hand, and murmured gently

Good girl. Soon you'll see the light of day again.

One cozy little family, loving and warm. It made my teeth ache just watching.

I didn't disturb them. I left without a sound.

Back home, Sidney had already brought the Beagle over, just as I'd expected.

He unclipped the leash and let the dog tear through the apartment, knocking things over at will.

Then he turned to me.

Maddie, this dog is really well-behaved. Haven't you heard the saying? A dog brings good luck. Having her in our home is bound to be a blessing for both of us.

I folded my arms. Behind me, something else crashed to the floor. Not for the first time.

This is what you call well-behaved?

The dog's yours. Anything of mine it breaks, you replace at full price.

Sidney's composure cracked. He slapped his debit card into my palm.

It's just a few things. I can afford that much.

But let's be clear. The dog stays, permanently. You and I are going to take good care of her together and make her feel like part of a family.

His fingers clamped tight around the card as he held it out, eyes darting. He clearly didn't believe I'd actually take it.

After all, in all the time we'd been dating, I was the one footing his bills.

I've never been short on money. Most of the time I just follow my gut.

Sidney suited my taste, and I was happy to spend on him. Our own version of meeting each other halfway, I guess.

But I wasn't willing anymore.

I slipped the card away and smiled at him

Sure. Don't worry, I'll make sure she feels right at home.

Sidney looked genuinely moved

I knew it. Maddie, you're the kindest person I know. I've got to head back for an extra shift tonight, so I'll get going.

His eyes lingered on the debit card I'd pocketed, then he turned and left.

The second the door clicked shut, the Beagle darted to my feet, hiked one leg, and got into position, ready to fire.

I grabbed the umbrella off the shoe rack and swung it right at her.

The shriek she let out was so piercing it brought Sidney back from halfway down the hall.

What did you do?

Sidney didn't even stop to change his shoes. He shoved past me and rushed to the Beagle, checking her over.

But he couldn't actually find anything wrong, so he turned to me.

I spread my hands. The umbrella was already back on the rack.

She was probably too excited, ran too fast and crashed into the cabinet. Look at her, poor thing.

The little Beagle whimpered and yowled, desperate to argue back, but she couldn't speak.

Sidney looked unconvinced.

That's really what happened?

What else? There's not a mark on her. She's carrying on like that because she bumped something and it hurt.

I should probably pad the corners around the house so she doesn't hurt herself again.

Played right into his handsor rather, mine.

Sidney's irritation vanishedThat's great, that you're thinking like that.

From now on this dog is part of our family. You've seen all those videos online, dogs protecting their owners, helping take care of kids.

Treat her well, and someday she'll give our children the same love back.

I lowered my eyes, hiding the contempt in them.

I played alongRight, cats and dogs looking out for their owners, that kind of thing happens all the time.

I really should take good care of her.

Sidney left, reassured.

This time the Beagle didn't dare come near me. Instead she bolted toward my study.

I strapped a harness on her and tied her to a chair.

Unable to charge around freely, she started yowling in fury. It wasn't the sound a normal puppy makes. There was a raw, snarling edge to it, shrill and grating.

The on-screen comments appeared again.

You can tell from the way she's acting that the illegitimate daughter has possessed her. She's trying to use this kind of extreme noise to break you down so you have no choice but to give in and treat her well.

You'll end up buying her toys, buying her food, using all of that to bribe her into shutting up. But honestly? She just needs a good beating.

Beagles are famously tough. Unless she's genuinely scared, she won't stop.

I thought of that undefeated terror of a dog near the villa.

When the Beagle realized I was ignoring her, the howling escalated to full-blown hysterics.

The sound bounced through the living room on a loop, enough to fray anyone's nerves.

I picked up my phone, opened a shopping app, and right in front of her started browsing pet supplies.

I softened my expression and coaxed her.

Stop barking, and I'll buy you a dog bed. Treats, too.

The Beagle's ears twitched. She seemed to actually understand, and the barking dropped a few notches.

Then she watched me actually complete the purchase.

The barking stopped.

Just like those last few on-screen comments had predicted.

What she didn't know was that while I'd picked out every item myself, the account that paid for it all wasn't mine.

I got a text from Sidney.

Just got an alert on my phone. You spent some money?

It's not that I mind you spending. It's just that my salary's going toward saving up for our wedding fund. If you spend too much, how am I ever going to be able to marry you?

Pretty vigilant.

I typed back

Just replaced a few things the dog broke.

It won't eat into your savings. If anything, I'll be spending more on her.

No response for a long time. He was satisfied, apparently.

The on-screen comments kept rolling.

Classic wants-it-all guy. Total ick. "Saving for your wedding fund"? That's not generosity, that's a leash on your wallet.

He's the type to eat your food, live off you, and then demand emotional damages when you break up.

I thought the comments were spot-on.

That evening, after dinner, the Beagle started howling again.

Sidney messaged me.

Said he was too busy, told me to walk the dog.

Don't go. If you walk her, she'll lunge forward and drag you all over the place until you fall and break a bone on the spot.

You'll get treatment afterward, but it won't heal right. Your leg will be permanently lame, and that illegitimate daughter will have stolen your ability to walk.

That settled it.

I turned around and hired a professional dog-walker to come to the apartment.

Booked the mid-tier package: three hours.

My dog's clearly overweight just looking at her. Walk her longer, and I'll pay extra.

Also, she might bolt. Handle her however you need to. I don't mind.

The dog-walker took the deposit and grinned ear to ear.

Don't worry, Miss Sanchez. I'm a pro.

I'll keep a video call going the whole time. This Beagle's in good hands.

I recorded a few clips from the walk and sent them to Sidney.

He replied with a string of praise stickers.

By the time he got home from work, the dog was sprawled flat on the floor, completely wiped out.

Sidney's expression went stiff. Since when do you have that kind of stamina? She's dead on her feet, and you look like you barely broke a sweat.

I don't remember you being this athletic.

You're right, I wasn't. I didn't bother hiding it.

I hired a dog-walker. I'm not used to her yet, and she's obviously heavy. I was worried she'd run off, so I got someone who could handle her.

Sidney's face twisted

Why would you hire someone? I told you, Tutu's well-behaved.

If you keep pawning her off on other people, when are you ever going to bond with her?

He caught himself almost immediately, reining in his tone

Maddie, that came out wrong. I'm not blaming you. I've just been swamped at work lately.

The company's sending me on a business trip. You'd be home alone with Tutu, and a lot of those dog-walkers are guys. I'd worry about you.

How about this: walk her yourself for the next few days, and once I'm back, I'll take over from then on

Sidney pitched it like a compromise, eyes locked on me without blinking, as though he was afraid I'd say no.

Sure.

Sidney finally relaxed.

He picked up his phone and sent me a whole list of shop names, one after another.

You're not working anyway. Tutu could use a bath and some grooming. These places have good reviews. Just take her in.

And load a prepaid card while you're there. It'll save money in the long run.

The Beagle stared at me, greedy and expectant, waiting for my next move.

I pretended not to notice and nodded yes.

After Sidney left, my online orders arrived.

The Beagle watched the delivery guy set everything up.

Only to discover the bed was cat-sized, the toy was a cat climbing tower, and every treat bag had a cartoon cat face printed on it.

For the first time, I saw genuine disbelief in a dog's eyes.

The Beagle charged at the bags, trying to rip them open with its teeth. I stepped forward and shoved it aside with my knee.

After two or three rounds of this, it collapsed on the floor howling in fury.

I locked it in the crate, grabbed a handful of cat treat sticks, and headed out.

I made the rounds of the neighborhood strays, handing out treats like flyers, asking them to spread the word for me.

This was another move the on-screen comments had suggested.

Hey, kitties. I need you to find someone for me. Your boss cat.

I want to hire him. Food, water, full benefits, plus one free dog to take his frustrations out on.

By that same afternoon, I heard the clang of a glass bottle smacking against the front door.

I opened it and there he was: the infamous Bruiser, the terror of the entire gated community, dragging a glass bottle behind him as he strolled up.

I stepped aside and let him in.

Then I opened the pet room I'd set up just for him.

Your Majesty Bruiser, I'm hiring you to beat up a dog.

Unlimited treat sticks and canned food, plus full-service grooming at a professional pet salon.

Bruiser looked satisfied. He dragged his glass bottle across my foot in approval.

A tabby, only slightly smaller than the Beagle, but built like a tankevery inch imposing.

The Beagle's world collapsed.

Its whining shrank from loud wails to terrified, high-pitched keening.

I opened the crate door.

Then I pulled up the grooming salon link Sidney had sent me.

I picked one of the shops, called them, and loaded the prepaid card online.

I told the shop owner: if anyone calls asking about the card, tell them the money was loaded for a pet dog.

Once everything was done that night, I sent Sidney the screenshot

This place looks great. Good reviews too.

No reply from his end. But the shop owner called me.

Miss Sanchez, someone just called asking whether you'd loaded the card. Is that someone you know?

Couldn't even wait, could he.

Someone I know. Also someone with bad intentions.

Ignore him.

The Beagle's cries had gone quiet by now. I put my phone away and settled in to admire Bruiser's handiwork.

His Majesty was perched on the cat tower, rubbing a paw, then nibbled a few more bites of kibble. Only when he'd had his fill did he allow the Beagle anywhere near the bowl.

The Beagle was terrified of him, but the sight of the picked-over food still drew it forward, one trembling step at a time.

In Bruiser's eyes, that hesitant approach was pure insolence.

He lifted a paw and slapped the dog across the face. Again. And again.

Thwack, thwack

After a few solid hits the Beagle's eyes nearly rolled back in its head. It took a long moment to recover, then staggered forward and face-planted into the food bowl.

The on-screen comments were losing it.

The illegitimate daughter is absolutely losing her mind. She never dreamed she'd get beaten up by a cat AND be forced to eat its leftovers.

This is SO satisfying. Schemes backfiring on the schemer is the best kind of karma. Why should anyone have to give up everything they have for someone like her?

I nodded.

But this was only step one.

The ones trying to hurt me and my mother weren't just this dog. There were people too.

If they loved their precious child so much, they could spend their own money on her.