|| Username || Gravity Falls|| Personality || Meet Aviator. Those who have long since been acquainted with him call him venturesome, courageous, and even a but naive. From his deathly plunges from couch to floor to lunging into the passenger side of a car, this little Pomeranian hasn't a fearful bone in his body.
But apart from his more dominant, adventure loving side, this puppy is very calm and lenient. Maybe even a tad lazy. When alone, Aviator can sleep for hours on end, getting up only for emergency bathroom breaks. Even then, he may stumble off the couch, proceeded by a topple to the floor. It doesn't phase him in the slightest, though. But if you happen to see this side of him, make sure not to tell him. This could ruin his adrenaline-loving reputation.
|| Story || Tuesday, November twenty-second. The weather outside had gotten chilly, frost nipping at the peculiarly thin coat of a small Pomeranian. Shivers coursed violently through the dog, eyes blinking sleet out of his eyes. No one had heard from him in months- but after what happened to him, no one really expected to.
Tensing up, he recalled the last emotion he felt. Deep, deep, sadness. And for good reason, too. His previous owner, Pete Becker, was but 53 years old when he began fighting Typhoid. This outbreak was long since extinct, but traces of it had later been found in a Peach ice- cream. One that had been recalled only days after Mr. Becker had been diagnosed. But it was too late. After about 3 weeks, the old man died. Leaving his new Pomeranian puppy scared and alone, and now searching for a place to call home.
Stumbling upon a partially open garage door, the young dog cautiously stepped in and found a pile of recently dried clothes in a basket. After jumping on the side and knocking it down, the darks came tumbling down on top of the little puppy. After managing to wriggle himself free from the clothes, he lay down, asleep.
Suddenly, the door opened. A girl by the age of 13, Cailyn, entered the small room. Sh was here to collect the clothes from the basket and fold them- a daily chore of her's. And when she saw the pile on the ground, you can only imagine the dismay that she felt. Angrily, she walked forward, throwing the clothes... Only to reveal a small, cream colored puppy.
Unsure whether he was alive or dead, Cailyn picked him up, pressing him to her chest. The dog, still in shock, let out a yip. Suddenly, their brown eyes met and they realized that both needed each other.
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Cailyn named the dog Aviator after his rambunctious personality. The two now live together, very happily.
Also, my big sister, Distant_Hybrid, helped me a lot with the form. I made up the plot, and she told me what to write for the story. Also the format was mostly her, as I'm new.
