The Makr

It wasn’t any old box.

It was the Makr.


Chapter One

Three-month-old Spot barked for the first time.

“Woof!” Spot said, curling his mouth into a circle.         

He wasn’t any old dog. Spot would grow up to be one of the most adventurous and successful living things ever. By the time he was one years old, he found out about the Makr.

“Hey Spot!” said his litter mate, energetically. “Do you — ooff! Stop, Smicky!! I’m trying to talk to Spot!” he said angrily.

“So…” Spot tried to say, but his litter mate walked away.

He decided to try to read his personal newspaper (where he did his business.) Spot stared at the paper, trying to read, but Smicky tackled him, so he distractedly tackled Smicky back.

Later that afternoon, Spot read, “NEW DISCOVERY! There is a box that can make anything! But the archaeologists in Hawaii accidentally dropped it off of the mountains of Hanieh, and it fell into the dark caves of Hatonini. It can change size! But you nee–”

But then Smicky peed on the newspaper, over the words.

I wonder what it said next, he thought. Nah, it doesn’t matter.

“That’s cool!” Spot said excitedly to himself.

“That’s cool,” echoed a sweet, little voice outside of his playpen.

Oh! I completely forgot adoption is today! Spot thought excitedly.

Spot listened to the people, and they said, “Oh! I want to get a puppy now!!! Mommy, now!”

“Okay, sweetie pie. Uh, w-w-we’ll get that, uh, that spotty one,” the mother sporting a crazy hairstyle said, looking at her phone.

Perfect chance to get that box! Spot thought. Once I get adopted, I can escape when they’re not looking and find that box!

So, the girl scooped him up roughly and marched up to the desk and said, “We’re taking this one.”

Ouch! Good thing I’m not staying long! thought Spot as the mom filled out the paperwork and paid. When he got to their house, it seemed pretty strange. To match their weird hair, they had dolls for dog toys! Luckily, they let him outside after a while. As he was very eager to find the Makr, he immediately jumped over the fence, as soon as he got outside, and onto the roof of a moving car.  As the car was moving away, Spot heard a girl’s voice.

“Spot? Where’s Spot?”

From inside the car, he heard a kid saying, “I should’ve brought my X-Box for the plane.”

He waited on the car, since it was pretty obvious that they were going to the airport. Perfect chance to catch a plane to Hawaii.


Chapter Two

Spot woke up. “This family drives slow,” Spot mumbled as the family entered the airport.

Spot quickly jumped off the car and walked carefully into the airport. He looked around for “To Hawaii” planes. Finally, he found it, so he jumped on the corresponding conveyor belt. A human with a neon vest came by, so he hid in a suitcase that had a card that said, “Wish you were here! Hawaii,” because in any other suitcase, he wouldn’t know where it would go to. Later, when he got onto the plane, he smelled something good. Bacon treats!       

“That was good,” said Spot tiredly, after polishing off a package of treats that had been stored in one of the suitcases.

He fell fast asleep.


Hawaii: 5:20 a.m.    

Spot yawned. “Okay, time to — agh!”

All of the suitcases fell out of the compartment and onto a conveyor belt. Spot quickly jumped off of the conveyor belt, ran outside, and looked around.

Very sandy, Spot thought.

“Woah! The volcano!” Spot barked loudly.

Suddenly, the Animal Control came out of nowhere! But, he outran them by running as quickly as the speed of light. As soon as Spot got to the volcano, he realized that he would have to go quickly because it was active. The only thing to walk on was some metal chain and small, metal, lit lanterns, which looked like they would break after few seconds. Spot quickly ran as the lanterns behind him burst away into flames, but two ahead of him broke without him knowing. Every other one burst into flames rapidly as Spot wrapped his paws tightly on the lantern he was on. Suddenly, a few chains broke and, before he knew it, he was swinging out of control!                       


Chapter Three

He swung to one side, then the other side. He quickly hatched a great plan.

He pushed on one side, swung strongly out of the cave, stumbled, and did a forward roll. There was the Makr! In the cave!

But suddenly, a live skeleton of a dog came out. Spot yelped in distress. He was terrified!  What did the newspaper say again? Oh yeah, Smicky cut Spot off!

The skeleton was approaching, snarling!!  

“Umm, do you, umm…” Spot said, shivering.

He looked around… and saw a bone!

“Do you want a bone?” Spot said in a playful voice.

The skeleton nodded. Spot picked up the bone, swung it, and released it so that it would fly into the bushes. The skeleton dived for it.

Spot gratefully took the Makr. He thought hard while he put his paw on the box. He thought hard about what he wanted to produce. He imagined a new life. When he was finished, he looked in the box. A doggie helicopter!

He flew away, with the box in the helicopter, and found a peaceful family that he loved. They gave him good food, petted him, took him places, and, of course, gave him his favorite treat: bacon treats! He even had a huge yard that he could go out to whenever he felt like it. Just like he had imagined.

But one day, the “weird” family tracked him down, and he was taken back to his old life! They locked him in a cage, where the girl braided and dyed his hair all day. Fortunately, he was able to make sure the Makr came with him. One night, while the family slept, he once again stood on the Makr and thought hard. He taught the family a lesson by taking every single thing away from them.

As he walked home, with the Makr strapped to him, he felt something grab his neck and pull him into a truck! Oh no! The dog catchers! And they took his box away! When he arrived at the pound, he was only given five pieces of kibble.

One day later, Spot noticed a door had been left open! So he ran back home, with the box, without being noticed. He lived happily ever after with the new family he found with his Makr box. Spot was so happy, he never had to use the box again.

Well, almost never. But that’s a whole other story.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    

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