I reached down with Pepper’s leash. The squirmy little ball of fuzz couldn’t keep still if her life depended on it. “I’m not going to walk you if you don’t keep still,” I snarled at her with a smile. I quickly clipped it on her collar when she wasn’t looking, “Why do I put up with you?”
We walked down the snow covered streets at Pepper tugged me along. I was so excited to finally have a snow day. I imagined sledding and drinking hot chocolate and watching Rudolph. We stopped about every ten seconds, so that she could sniff a tree or mark her territory. With all that time that we spent to stop and sniff things, I noticed something quite peculiar about the street. It took me a few minutes, but then I realized it. All the houses seemed empty. They all had their lights off and no cars in the driveway. I could even see that the busy street at the bottom of the road that seemed to always have an abundance of cars was car-less. I ran down the street with Pepper. I was in such shock by the absence of what seemed to be the whole town.
I then remembered someone who couldn’t be gone. I ran down to Dad’s office that overlooked the Lake. I ran up to the front door. It wouldn’t open. I tried so hard, but nothing. I picked up a decent sized rock and hurled it at the glass panes of the door. It bounced off it as if I only threw a pebble. I crumbled to the ground. Sobbing, I noticed that Pepper was still at my feet. Not only was she at my feet, but she was also sitting. I saw sadness in her eyes as I pulled her close to me. I knew in that moment that even if the whole world was lost, I'd still always have Pepper.