My family and friends would be shocked to learn that I resorted to lying, hiding, and sneaking the summer of my sophomore year. It all started when I was at home in the cities for a weekend during summer break. “Mom lets go see the puppies in the paper.” “Ok,” my mom replied. We jumped in the car on a warm Sunday morning and drove to the outskirts of Shakopee. We pulled up to see eight carefree, rambunctious, liver and white English Spring Spaniel puppies playing in the lush green yard. I got out of the car and they all swarmed to me as bees to a hive. I looked down to see one little girl puppy biting at my untied shoelaces. I picked her up in my arms and looked into her changing blue eyes. My heart cried out to bring her home with me; however, I had an internal struggle. I was living in the dorms until the papers cleared on the house I was purchasing. Before I knew it, I was writing a check for two hundred and fifty dollars. “Katie, how are you going to keep her until the house is ready?” my mom asked. “I am a good liar, and all I have to do is keep her quiet,” was my answer to her question. I took the puppy, held her at arms length, and studied her more closely. She had auburn patches on a pristine white coat with curly brown ears and a white blaze down her forehead. Her tummy was soft and sensitive with that puppy smell. She had tiny feet with small, supple, tender pads. I named her Trixie after the main character in my favorite mystery novels that I read growing up. I felt as if I found an undiscovered treasure. Trixie and I headed back to my parents house to start the long journey home back to the University of Minnesota Morris where I would begin the lying and sneaking to hide my new treasure from the “bad guys”.

Trixie and I arrived at Independence Hall after the two and a half hour drive home, which proved interesting. I put the pup on the seat of the car where she slept the whole way home. Little did I know that puppies have dreams, and Trixie was an active dreamer. I thought she was having a seizure; she was moving her legs, her eyes were twitching, and she was whimpering. I freaked out and pulled the car over with one quick jerk. I picked up my dreaming puppy, and she woke up. She looked at me with sleepy questioning eyes. I put her back on the seat, and with a loud sigh she plopped her head down and went back to sleep without a care in the world.

Indy hall only had four people living in it over the summer: a kid from Korea, the resident director, who coincidently did not like me already, the resident assistant, and me. I sat in the parking lot and scanned the scene. The coast was clear. I grabbed the little buddle of brown and white fluff and sprinted to my room. I felt as though I was a convict running towards my freedom; under no circumstances could they catch me. I was not going to give up my new treasure yet. I reached my room triumphantly; no one had seen me. I put Trixie down, took a deep long breath, and let it out hoping it would calm my racing heart. I felt as though it was pounding to an African tribal drumbeat. Trixie and I played for the rest of the evening. Before bedtime, she let out a whimper that said, “I have to go potty.” I had not thought of this situation yet. What was I going to do? I thought quickly and grabbed my large gym bag, placed her in it, and zipped it shut. I ran across the road to the football field in the cover of the night. I let her out where she did her business; I did not feel too bad about her peeing and pooping on the field because the football team was horrible. Giggling at myself, I picked her up, placed her in the bag, and ran back to my room. I went to bed with Trixie’s warm fuzzy body snuggled under the sheets in the crook of my bent knee.

Trixie woke me by pulling my ponytail with her sharp teeth the next morning. I went and grabbed my bag to take her out to the bathroom. After I got back, I realized that I had to go to my research assistant job in twenty minutes. What was I going to do? I got dressed and chained her to the foot of the bed and left. I shut the door, stood outside it, and listened praying that she would not cry. No luck, she let out a howl that reached my heart. It was as though someone was trying to wring it out like a wet rag. I opened the door and looked at her. She was no bigger than a pair of my sandals; how could something so small affect me so much? I grabbed the bag put her in it and walked to work at a very brisk pace.

I arrived at work out of breath; I felt as though I had just run a mile. I got to the office of the professor I worked for carrying a bag containing a squirming energetic puppy. He looked at me, then looked at the rapidly wiggling bag and said, “You bought a puppy didn’t you?” I opened the bag. Trixie resembled a cork popping out of a champagne bottle. The look on his face was all I needed; I could bring her to work for as long as I needed. It did not take long for the news to circulate through the building that I had a new puppy. Every hour there was a new person at the door with an excuse as why they were visiting; especially the women from the office below. I took Trixie out every two hours to go potty. I used the back stairs. Under the cover of the large lilac tree on the south side of the building, I let her go pee. I had errands to run and when I left her sight, she let out a gut wrenching cry that echoed loudly in the empty hallway, so I brought her with me. I got many laughs from the professors as they rolled their chairs to their doorways to see me walk past with a trailing clumsy, roly-poly puppy.

The routine continued for about three weeks of bringing Trixie to work when I started to notice she was gaining weight; I was even having a hard time getting her in my bag, but I could not figure out why her weight was increasing so rapidly. Then, it hit me like a ton of bricks; every time one of the women from the office visited, they would bring Trixie people food for treats. I decided that it was time that Trixie should stay in the dorm room during the day. I chained her up the next morning to the leg of the bed and shut the door. As the resident assistant walked by I held my breath hoping Trixie would not cry and she did not. I waited for five minutes, no crying, so I decided to leave her. My boss let me leave two hours into the workday to go and let Trixie out. I ran back to my dorm room and unlocked the door. A smiling puppy with a wagging tail and a large mess greeted me. Trixie had destroyed everything within the reach of her chain. I had forgotten to shorten it so she reached everything contained in the tiny dorm room. She knocked over the garbage and shredded it, ate my food stash, and chewed on my sandals. I picked up the mess cursing her while she looked at me with gleaming mischievous eyes. There was a sharp knock on the door and I opened it to see the resident director with a scowl on his face. I slipped from my room like a snake through the grass hoping he did not see Trixie. I asked him what was up. He asked me if I could please keep the noise down; I simply nodded my head and shut the door. I shortened her chain and puppy proofed the by room moving everything to high ground where it would be safe from her razor sharp teeth. I shook my head as I picked up my once favorite pair of sandals; they had little puncture marks all over them. A shark attack would have left them in better condition. I tossed Trixie her chew toys and angrily stomped my way back to work as if a little kid sent to time-out.

My scheme was working great; I left Trixie during the day in my room and I was with her at night; no one was the wiser about my little secret. With only a week left until the house was ready, I thought I was in the clear; what could go wrong now? I felt confident, until one day I came back on my lunch hour to find the campus construction workers feeding Trixie through my screen window. I lived on the first floor and the window was always open due to the hot Minnesota summer months. They were removing the screen, petting her, and feeding her. I panicked! I felt as though there was a blazing fire and no water was available. What if they told my resident director and I had to get rid of my baby? I raced towards the horrifying situation with hot burning tears in my eyes and talked with them. I found out that they had been doing this act of ‘kindness’ since the beginning of the week; in fact, they had a picture of them feeding Trixie through the window. I was worried; now someone had evidence of my crime. What was I going to do? They assured me that my secret was safe with them.

I moved out of the dorms the following week, and I felt as though a large weight was lifted from my chest. I had made it though the summer without anyone’s knowledge of the girl in Indy Hall with a puppy. Occasionally, I would get questioning looks from my housing supervisors but when they did ask me questions, I simply lied. The first week of school came and so did the universities newspaper where I was horrified to see a picture of Trixie hanging out of my dorm room window with a large smile on her face. Someone had anonymously sent the picture in with my story. I received a four hundred dollar fine from the housing department, which I paid, and then they changed the housing policy for summer to specify no dogs in the dorms. The summer was a continuous mission of hiding my puppy, which I was successful at, no one, had caught me. After I completed my secret mission, the authorities received evidence of my crime and I paid the price.