In a quiet corner of a sunlit town, a small, cozy house stood under the shade of a sprawling mango tree. Inside lived two best friends—Thuy, a kind-hearted young woman with a gentle voice and calm eyes, and Lala, her clever little golden dog with floppy ears and a nose that could sniff out snacks from across the street.
Thuy and Lala had been together since Lala was a puppy, and they shared everything—their morning walks, lunchtime snacks, and quiet evenings on the porch. But one bright Monday morning, things were a little different.
“Lala,” Thuy said as she crouched beside her furry friend, gently adjusting the little red bow on Lala’s collar, “I have a big project at work today. I’ll be very busy, but I need you to be a good girl and take care of yourself at home, okay?”
Lala tilted her head, her big brown eyes wide and understanding. She gave a soft bark, as if to say, You can count on me!
Thuy gave her a warm hug, set down a bowl of fresh water, a plate of food, and even turned on the radio to a soft classical station, just the way Lala liked it. Then she slipped on her shoes, waved goodbye, and headed out the door.
At first, Lala sat by the window, watching Thuy walk away. The house felt quiet, maybe too quiet. But Lala remembered Thuy’s words. Take care of yourself, she repeated in her little doggy mind. And so, she got to work.
First, she did her morning stretch—a long downward dog pose followed by a good tail shake. Then she trotted over to her food bowl and politely took a few bites, being careful not to spill. After a refreshing sip of water, she licked her lips and walked around the house to make sure everything was just as Thuy left it.
In the living room, Lala nudged the pillows neatly back into place on the couch with her nose. In the kitchen, she sniffed the air and made sure the stove was off (Thuy always made sure it was, but Lala double-checked). In the hallway, she peered into each room, her little toenails tapping gently on the floor.
By mid-morning, the house was in perfect order, and Lala decided it was time for her solo play session. She pulled out her favorite squeaky ball and bounced it across the floor, chasing it with joyful hops. Her tail wagged happily. Even though Thuy wasn’t home to throw the ball, Lala found a way to entertain herself.
When playtime was over, Lala curled up on the big soft rug in the living room and took a nap. The sun streaming in through the window made a perfect warm patch, and soon she was dreaming of butterflies, belly rubs, and mango ice cream.
Around noon, Lala woke up to the sound of the mail slot clinking. Her ears perked up. She padded over to the front door and sniffed the envelope that had landed on the floor. It smelled like paper and sunshine. Satisfied that it wasn’t anything dangerous, she left it neatly on the mat for Thuy to find later.
Back in the kitchen, Lala checked her food bowl again. She wasn’t very hungry, so she nibbled politely and left the rest. She drank some more water, then sat by the back door and looked out at the garden.
Thuy had been growing some herbs and vegetables, and Lala knew she wasn’t supposed to dig in the garden anymore. That had been a hard lesson when she was younger, but now she was older and wiser. So instead of digging, she just sat, watching the butterflies flit from flower to flower. Every so often, she would give a little bark if a squirrel got too close to the tomatoes. Guard duty, she thought proudly.
By late afternoon, Lala had done her stretches, eaten her meals, played by herself, guarded the garden, and even monitored the front door. She was getting a little tired again, but she wanted to stay awake until Thuy came home.
So she sat on the couch, her head resting on a pillow, and listened to the radio. The soft piano music reminded her of the lullabies Thuy sometimes hummed at night. She wagged her tail gently, feeling peaceful and proud
At exactly five-thirty, the front door opened. Lala’s ears shot up. Her tail started wagging like a little golden metronome.
“Lala! I’m home!” Thuy called.
Lala launched off the couch and raced to the door, letting out happy barks. She wiggled and twirled and jumped in excitement, licking Thuy’s hands as if to say, I missed you!
Thuy knelt down and gave her a tight hug. “Were you a good girl while I was away?”
Lala gave a proud bark.
Thuy walked around the house, smiling at the neatly placed pillows, the clean kitchen floor, and the untouched garden. “Wow,” she said. “You really did take care of yourself, didn’t you?”
Lala sat proudly, chest out, tail thumping the floor.
That evening, they sat on the porch together. Thuy had a warm cup of tea, and Lala had a little dish of frozen banana slices—a special treat. The sun was setting, painting the sky with soft orange and pink. The mango tree rustled gently in the breeze.
“You know,” Thuy said, stroking Lala’s head, “you’re not just my pet—you’re my little helper, my responsible girl. I’m so proud of you.”
Lala snuggled closer, resting her head on Thuy’s lap. She didn’t need to say anything. Thuy already knew.
And from that day on, every time Thuy had to be busy, she never worried. She knew that Lala—her obedient, clever, and loving dog—could take care of herself with grace, patience, and a little bit of wagging tail magic.
