It was my favorite kind of day. The sun was half up in the sky, creating the most amazing lighting in the store that could lull any dog to sleep. The temperature was a wonderful warm with slight breezes coming though the window every now and then. The shop was completely empty with hardly any costumers coming in at all. In fact, it was so slow today that my owner, who also owned this shop, decided to close it and leave for a couple of hours. That meant that I did not have to do anything at all except sleep and guard the store. So, I found my spot and sat down. 
I was sitting on my pillow when the shop door quietly opened. Silently, my best friend walked in. Her ginger fur was a bit dirty and her tail was hanging low. This was not like her at all. Since the day we met, all of those years ago, she had always been one to keep up her appearance. Her fur was always perfectly licked clean and she always kept her head and tail confidently high. Something was definitely off. I could even smell it. Still, I stayed seated.
I kept my droopy eyes somewhat locked on her as her tiny paws crept along the floor. Suddenly, she stopped and looked towards the doors. Her cat eyes looked pained and she had a look of desperation about her. I knew I should have went to see if she needed help, but just the thought of walking to the other side of the store made me tired. So, I stayed seated.
After giving her last look at the door and the life she once knew, she began to steer herself towards the checkout. Her miniscule claws clacked on the hard wood that made up the floor and she walked as if she had shackles locked onto her. From my hidden seat, I could see a single, glistening tear run past her whiskers. She looked so helpless and unsure that I wanted to cry myself. Deep down inside I knew what was going to happen, but my body did not want to do anything about it. So, I kept sitting.
“Don’t worry about it. Everything is going to be fine,” I heard her say to herself, but it did not sound like she believed it.
With only her words of encouragement to help her, she hesitantly jumped next to my owner’s cash register. This is where any good watchdog would have started to bark, but my eyes were growing more and more tired from all of this watching. I really did want to stop her, though. I wanted to when she carefully punched in the buttons. I wanted to when she took the money out with her shaking teeth. I wanted to when she left the store, replacing her dignity with cash. Still, I kept sitting.