I Went Viral Across the Stars by Taming Beasts - Chapter 3

I swear on my former title as a star zookeeper:

I had never met a dog smarter than Snowy.

I barely needed to teach him. Show him an action command once, and he remembered it perfectly.

He even completed obstacle-course training with flawless form.

If he had not been so tiny—obviously still a cub—I would have suspected the patron had sent me an enlisted military dog.

As a reward for finishing his training, I offered Snowy the last strip of jerky in the house.

He nudged my arm with his head and pushed it toward my own mouth instead.

Chewing the jerky with tears in my eyes, I declared, “Baby, you are the cutest, smartest, best baby in the whole world.”

Snowy sat quietly beside me with perfect elegance, as if praise were nothing new to him.

Only his fluffy tail betrayed him. It rose soundlessly behind him, wagging so fast it nearly became a propeller.

…

Snowy was healthy, emotionally stable, and affectionate, so I prepared to report a job well done to his patron.

I had never once seen him lose his temper, much less behave like a dangerous dog that might hurt someone.

But the night before I planned to hand him back, something happened.

Ever since Snowy arrived, he had slept on the living-room sofa. No matter how I coaxed him, he refused to sleep in my bedroom.

I assumed he preferred the living room because it allowed him to guard the house for his owner.

Then, after drinking too much water before bed one night, I passed the sofa on my way to the bathroom and heard the rapid, guttural growl of a wild beast.

Snowy appeared to be having a nightmare. His eyes were tightly shut, his expression savage.

The adorable paw pads I had spent all day hugging and kissing were gone. Silver-glinting claws sprang from his toes and shredded half the sofa with a single swipe.

And perhaps it was a trick of the darkness, but his cub-sized body seemed to have grown considerably larger.

Me: “?”

I rubbed my eyes and approached with care.

“Snowy?” I called softly.

I had seen plenty of cubs knead the air in their sleep. Even the occasional frightened cry during a nightmare was normal.

But something was clearly wrong with Snowy.

“Baby, wake up.” Avoiding those terrifying claws, I gently patted his back. “It’s only a bad dream. Everything will be fine once you wake up.”

Under my quiet soothing, his rigid body gradually relaxed and his bristling fur settled.

His icy-blue eyes opened sluggishly, glistening as they turned toward me.

My heart dissolved.

I gathered him into my arms. “Did the nightmare scare you, baby? Come here. Big Sister will hold you.”

It took a long while in my embrace before Snowy fully came to his senses.

The instant he did, all four limbs began flailing as he tried, flustered, to climb out.

I locked my arms around him and carried him firmly back to the bedroom.

“Children who have nightmares are supposed to sleep with an adult.”

Snowy shook his head in disagreement and put up a feeble three-second protest.

Three seconds later, once I set him on the bed, he dashed straight to the mound of blankets and curled comfortably into a ball of white fluff.

Me: “…”

Was sleeping on top of the blankets an instinct shared by every dog?

When Snowy realized what he had done, he shot me an embarrassed glance.

I had no idea how I managed to read such an excessively human emotion in a puppy’s eyes. I simply chalked it up to his extraordinary intelligence and climbed into bed.

Once I had slipped back beneath the warm covers, I yawned and patted the soft spot beside me.

“Come here, baby. Big Sister will put you to sleep this time, and the nightmares won’t come back.”

I was exceptionally good at lulling animals to sleep.

Snowy hesitated. Under my repeated urging, he reluctantly shuffled closer.

My eyelids drooped as I stroked his back in a steady rhythm and hummed softly.

“Sleep, sleep, my darling baby. Close your eyes and go to…”

And with that, I successfully put myself to sleep.

When the hand on his back went still, Snowy slowly caught my pajama sleeve between his teeth and tucked my arm beneath the covers.

Then he lay atop the quilt and studied my sleeping face with curiosity.

After staring for a while, he yawned too.

A thin sheen of moisture softened those crystalline blue eyes. Snowy lowered his head and nestled against my hand through the blanket.

Soon, he closed his eyes and fell asleep as well.