Long ago there was a farm, standing in the Alaskan turf about two miles away from Juneau. A small house stood in front of it, a fence stretched around the barn and house. A couple, named Jack and Kaitlin Willington decided to purchase it. The next day, they were setting up their house when Kaitlin heard whimpering. She looked outside and saw a dim-looking figure limping into the barn. "Jack, we can finish this in a split second, I saw something out there walk into our barn.. it looked like a wolf pup..." she said, her voice trembling. Jack took out his pistol, put his coat and gloves on, and walked outside. Kaitlin took her gloves, coat, and toboggan out with her. She put it on as she walked up the icy slope to the barn.
When Jack finally reached the old, soggy barn, he put his back against the red, dusty wall beside the doorway. He jumped out, aiming at the barn's doorway. Kaitlin looked down and pointed to the figure that waltzed into the barn. "Jack, look..." she said, motioning for him to look. It was a poor, wounded Alaskan Husky puppy, its leg was bit and cut horribly. "Oh, Jack, look at the poor thing!" Kaitlin gasped. She cupped her mouth with her hands. "Yeah, poor thing," Jack said. He aimed his pistol at the poor pup. Kailtlin jumped out in front of him. "No!" she exclaimed. She picked up the husky puppy and cradled it in her arms. "We have to take care of the poor thing, we can't just put it out of its misery!" Jack sighed. "Fine, but I'm not cleaning up after him," Jack said. Kailtin smiled and rubbed the puppy's stomach gently.
