My Dog Sold My Truck!
I never suspected that Bruno, my golden retriever, had secret ambitions in sales. But the day I discovered what he’d done, I realized he’d always been quietly plotting.
It started when I parked my old pickup truck in the driveway, keys in my pocket, planning to clean it out later. Bruno sat nearby, watching, tail wagging with mild curiosity. I figured he was just being his usual loyal self.
Over the next few days, I noticed something odd. The “For Sale” sign that had been tucked in my garage—where I left it months ago—was now plastered against the driver’s side window of my truck. It read: “Reliable Truck for Sale — Good Condition! Contact: 555-7890.” That number, I realized, was scribbled in Bruno’s favorite squeaky-toy ink.
I gasped. I threw on a jacket and ran outside—only to see the truck missing. In its place? A neatly typed email from a “buyer” congratulating me on the sale, asking for pickup arrangements. The email was signed, oddly enough, by Bruno Barkley, Sales Agent.
I grabbed my phone, dialed the number on the sign. A confident voice answered: “Yes, the truck is yours. We’ll pick it up at 3 pm.” My heart pounded. Who was behind this?
Later that afternoon, a modest pickup truck rolled down the street. Bruno sat in the passenger seat, paws on the dashboard, tongue lolling as if he’d just closed the deal. The buyer, a wide-smiling stranger, rolled down the window and nodded at me: “Your dog’s got impressive negotiation skills. Pleasure doing business.” He handed me a wad of cash—then Bruno barked twice, hopped out, and trotted behind the new truck as they drove off.
I stood there, stunned, counting bills, watching my old truck disappear. The backyard was silent, except for Bruno’s triumphant slurp of water from his bowl. He looked at me, tail wagging, eyes shining. It was like he was saying: Mission accomplished. Thanks for trusting me.
Later, I checked online ads: the truck’s listing had hundreds of views. The buyer left a glowing review: “Great condition, seller very responsive—even sent a dog testimonial. 10/10 experience.”
That evening, I sat beside Bruno, scratching his ears. I apologized—half serious, half amused—for doubting him. He leaned in, licking my hand.
Yes, apparently, my dog sold my truck. And though I lost the vehicle, I gained a story no one would believe—and a dog who clearly thinks he’s better at sales than me. I’m okay with that.
