**Diary Entry – A Twist of Fate**
Love sneaked up on me unexpectedly, and then everything went sideways.
One evening, as Emily was walking home from work through a small park in London, a tiny puppy tumbled out from the bushes and right into her path. He was plump and round, like a little dumpling.
“Oh, where did you come from, you adorable thing?” she murmured, bending down.
The pup whined, wagged his stubby tail, and nudged her trainers with his nose. She scooped him up, and when he gazed at her with those sad, loyal eyes, she couldn’t leave him there.
Emily carried him home, set him down in her flat, and watched him sniff around.
“What am I going to do with you? I don’t even know how to look after a dog… and I’ll need a name for you.” She had no idea what breed he was or how big he’d grow. Peeking around the corner, she called, “Oi, where’ve you got to, eh, Toby?” The pup waddled out from behind the telly stand. “Oh, so you’re a Toby, then. If you stay small, you’ll be Toby; if you grow big, you’ll be Tobias.”
The pup whimpered, clearly hungry. Emily rummaged through the fridge—nothing fit for a dog.
“At least some milk for now,” she thought. “Better yet, the pet shop across the street. I’ll ask for advice.”
“Right, Toby, I’m off to the shop. Stay put—I’ll be back soon.” She waved, shutting the door carefully behind her.
At the shop, she explained her situation to the clerk. “I’ve no clue what to feed him. This was such a spur-of-the-moment thing.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll manage. I’ll give you the basics, and the internet’s your friend.”
She returned with bags full of puppy supplies. Each day, Toby grew, and Emily learned more—how to feed him, walk him on a lead, even scold him when needed.
“Toby, no! Toby, drop it!”
Work was the only worry. “What’s he chewing up now?”
Toby became Tobias—not enormous, but sturdy, some mix of a Labrador, brown and smooth-coated. Her neighbour Margaret, who owned a pedigree Alsatian, reckoned, “Emily, looks like a Lab cross to me.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Emily said, grinning. “I didn’t choose him—he chose me.”
A year passed, and Tobias obeyed every command. He “walked” her each morning, tugging her along.
“Tobias, thanks to you, I never sleep in anymore. You’re my alarm clock,” she’d sigh, ruffling his ears.
Weekends were his favourite—long walks to the park, the dog run by the pond, where he’d race about. He was her loyal friend, comforting her through heartbreak.
Before Tobias found her, Emily had split with her boyfriend, James. They’d lived together in her flat for a year, arguing constantly. James was hopelessly untidy—shoes left in the hallway, jacket tossed on the sideboard.
“James, things have their place. I’m not your maid,” she’d snap.
“Morning comes, and I’ll just put it all back on,” he’d retort.
Toothpaste smeared on the sink, towels on the floor—she couldn’t reform him. Eventually, she kicked him out after one row too many. He’d grown possessive, questioning her every move.
Her three-bedroom flat in Kensington was inherited from her grandmother, who’d fallen ill and moved in with Emily’s parents. Her grandfather, a surgeon, had passed young from heart trouble.
Emily worked nearby, glad for the short commute—Tobias waited eagerly by the door each evening. She’d leash him, and off they’d go.
Then William entered her life when she least expected it. At twenty-six, she fell hard—he was thirty, charming, nothing like James. No fights, no interrogations—just easy happiness.
“Can it really be this simple?” she wondered.
They married, but one issue festered: William hated dogs.
“Your flat’s in a prime spot—we could rent it out and live comfortably,” she suggested.
“Fine, but no dog. I can’t stand animals.”
Tobias, indifferent to William, stayed. After stubborn negotiations, they remained in her flat.
“Don’t expect me to look after that mutt,” William warned.
Then Emily’s cousin died in a car crash. She left for Manchester for three days to help her aunt. Reluctantly, William agreed to watch Tobias.
Returning early, she found Tobias overjoyed. Taking him out, he stubbornly dragged her toward a café—then growled at William’s parked car.
“He’s supposed to be at work.”
Inside, she saw William holding hands with a young woman, lost in each other’s eyes. Stunned, she fled. Tobias led her back to the park, resting his head on her lap as she numbly stroked him.
That evening, William spun a tale about overtime.
“Loads of contracts—boss is cracking the whip,” he mumbled over dinner.
The next morning, she checked his phone—a message lit up: “Good morning, darling. Miss you. Can’t wait for our next date. Love, your kitten.”
Fury simmered. Another message came the following day—same time: “Darling, see you at our café after work. Love you.”
That evening, Tobias led her back. William arrived with the woman, laughing, kissing. Emily stepped inside as they clinked glasses.
“Hello, lovebirds. Business meeting, is it?”
William paled. The woman pouted. “Timmy, who’s this?”
“I’m his wife. And you?”
The girl gasped. “He said he wasn’t married!”
“Pack your things, William. Don’t bother coming home.”
Outside, she hugged Tobias. “Thank you. I’d have never known.”
William’s wails when collecting his belongings meant nothing—Tobias stood guard, unimpressed by his excuses.
Emily cried later, baffled by betrayal. At least dogs never lie.
**Lesson learned: Trust the ones who choose you first.**
