"Uh oh," Pokey said, now noticing the black dust all over the place. No way is his dad going to let him keep this charcoal puppy as a pet.
This realization seemed to wake him up, and he was hit with how amazing it was that this little creature had accepted him almost immediately. That she didn't bite him as most other animals do, and that his fear of being bitten didn't once manifest. What was once a lump of coal was now the greatest Christmas gift he had ever received. It's his, isn't it? He doesn't care what his dad says, he's never going to give her up.
As temporary measures, he took the animal back upstairs and found a piece of rope to tie around her neck. The other end he tied around a leg of his bed. The puppy tried to follow Pokey, but after he pushed her under the bed a few times to reinforce his desire for her to stay there, she reluctantly sat down and busied herself gnawing at the ribbon taped to her hindquarters.
"Good girl." Pokey whispered before hurrying downstairs to find a spare rag. Starting from the fireplace, he meticulously scrubbed down the soot prints off the carpet, figuring he can erase all traces of his new pet before his parents woke up.
Yet, he was not so lucky. Right as he was passed his parents' room in the hall, the door swung open. Pokey's father emerged and, in mid yawn, noticed Pokey crouched terrified on the floor. He regarded with growing displeasure his son and then the trail of dirt leading to his son's bedroom.
"Pokey..." He growled.
"I... I'm cleaning!" Pokey cried pitifully, shrinking back.
"The carpet shouldn't be dirty in the first place." His dad said, rolling up the sleeves of his pajama shirt. "And now you've wasted a perfectly good cleaning rag!"
"Eeee!" Pokey scrambled past his dad and jumped into bed although he knew it was ultimately futile. Under his father's authoritarian rule, his bed covers offered little protection. "Please don't kill me!"
His dad yanked off the bedcovers and Pokey cowered from the impending blow which, surprisingly, never came. Instead, his dad jumped back with a yelp. He teetered comically on one leg with the other one kicking out in an attempt to shake out the... flames? Was his leg on fire? Pokey watched in astonishment as his dad ran to the bathroom to douse his leg in the toilet.
"What the...?" Pokey whispered to himself. Then a possiblity occurred to him. He looked under the bed and sure enough, his coal was there, wagging her tail off at the sight of him. From where she stood, a black trail of charred carpet led to where his father stood a moment ago.
"Did you do that?" Pokey asked the puppy. She cocked her head and thumped her tail, not quite understanding. But the answer seemed clear enough. Pokey smiled broadly and reached down to scratch her ear. "I think I'll call you Roasty." Roasty licked his hand again and again.
