“Awww lookit the puppy. What a beautiful baby. Is it a blue mix?
I nod.
"Hi there,” he coos. I watch as Zach takes off his glasses and gives the pup a little scritch. My eyes wander over his suit tailored to his body. Blue looks fantastic on him; he could almost be a fashion model posing with a prop dog. The two of them are far too beautiful for my shabby living room.

“So you finally got a real dog huh?” Zach asks.
“Well…”
“He’ll be a good companion for Smokey huh? Say, where is your pup boy anyway?”
“You’re looking at him.”
Zach blinks. “What…?”
“Look at the name tag.”
Zach does. “It says Smokey. Wait.” He looks at me, then at the dog. “What?”
“My pup boy liked being a dog so much, that I woke up one morning and discovered he had turned into a real, live pup.”
Zach is staring at me sideways now. “Not sure if you’re joking.”
“I assure you I’m not. I’ll prove it. Try to get him to do a trick. Something complicated.”
Zach thinks about this a minute. He goes through the basics – “shake”, “bark”, “roll over”. He then makes a gun with his fingers and says “bang!”. Smokey rolls on his back and puts his paws in the air, head lolling on the ground.
I laugh. “Good boy Smokey!” Smokey gets to his feet and comes over to me for a belly rub.
“There’s no way you could have trained a pup to do all of that in such a short time.” Zach says hesitantly.
I shrug. “As I said, my pup boy turned into a pup. Unbelievable as it is, that’s what happened.”
My friend looks at the puppy, silent.

Then, as if right on cue, my pup boy saunters into the room. He’s just woke up from a nap and was wondering where everyone was and who took his collar off while he was out.
“Hey!” Zach cries.
I burst out laughing. “Busted! You totally believe it!”
“I did not!”
“You absolutely did!” I fall back into a chair, clutching my sides. “God your face…Jesus Zach, that was fantastic!”

Smokey the pup boy tilts his head in confusion. “Roo?”
The real pup, whom I actually named Greybeard, goes to sniff him. Within minutes, they’re playing. I watch them, still chuckling. Zach looks sullen and miffed.
“That wasn’t very nice.”
“No, it really wasn’t, but the opportunity presented itself. I’m sorry. You do look bloody good in that suit you know.”
“Well,” Zach smirks, “I expect all you’ll get out of is a good look, because you are never gonna undress me out of it.”
I groan. “Aw, Zach, that was just harmless fun, why are you being hard to get? You know you came over here to get laid.”
“I did,” he admitted, ‘But you have two pups that need your attention.“
"They can amuse themselves as you see – hey, Smokey, watch out for the coffee table! Good boy.”

Zach folds his arms. “It’s gonna cost you an expensive dinner. THEN, I’ll think about coming back home with you.”
“Alright, alright. I can handle being owned by three boys.”
He grins. “That’s more like it.”

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Text is fictional. Couldn’t find the model but the clothier is Patrick Johnson Tailors.