Welcome to my new ficcy, 'Canine Mishaps'. This idea came to me when I was drawing an increasingly silly little picture of the Phantom as a puppy (I always thought it'd look so adorable) and I was like 'hey, what if he was subjected to being a pet for all he's done to make up for what he's done wrong….' And thusly was this story born! I figured it'd be fun, ya know? Well, without further ado, I don't own the Phantom. I do, however, own his puppy form and him in my closet with a tub of chocolate sauce and a can of whipped cream.

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It was my birthday. I should've been happy. It was my sixteenth birthday, no less, and I had requested that I not have some massive extravaganza like most girls would.

I seriously hated those, with all the huge, puffy dresses and the false smiles that seemed so out of place. I'd just asked for a nice, quiet little evening with my family (I didn't invite my friends, lest my family go psycho and scare 'em away).

See, I'm going to explain something, a quiet evening with my family is impossible. We are, by nature, loud, crude, rude, lewd and all-around silly. We're a fun bunch, but we're very….European. We can't keep to ourselves, we gossip, we scream, we smack each other on the back, we fight tooth and nail and, most importantly, we eat. A lot.

However, that's not the reason I was unhappy. Ohh, by the by, allow me to introduce myself, my name's Kat. Well, not really, but I hate my real name so I don't use it. And my last name, though it's really not, is Valentine, which is also a nickname I picked up along the road of life.

Back to the matter at hand, I had just turned sixteen and I was irritated as all hell. I had wanted a dog since I was five years old and had spent every chance I got begging for a puppy. After sixteen years of carrying out the task that I consider living, I was granted my request.

Only, my request was granted as a cranky, scruffy little mutt.

The little dog sat in the corner, irritated as a canine could be. Its' fur was jet black and spiked though messy. Despite the obsidian fur, the undersides of its' ears as well as half of its' tail was bright white, which made me curious. Its' eyes were the most terrifying part.

Those eyes were too bright and too inquisitive to be anything but human. They were light green, but not bright enough to be emerald. The coloring was magnificent in itself, but it wasn't the odd thing. Those eyes seemed too intelligent for a dog, too sharp and intent. They seemed almost…arrogant.

My mother had decided, just to amuse me and feed my Phantom of the Opera fix, she would buy the mutt a tiny half mask and shove it upon the right side of the creatures' face. It looked so cute. A small, black string was tied 'round its' neck and fastened into an adorable little bow.

Despite the dog's looks, it was no cute little dog. On the outside it was a precious little puppy, on the inside it was a cranky, brooding little monster.

"Hey, princess, you like your new puppy?" my dad asked, affectionately smacking me on the back.

My father, though my dearest mom and dad were separated, had come to visit on my birthday and give me my present. He was a rather short, though imposing in stature, broad in shoulder and dangerous-looking in his features. His hair was black, though silver strands speckled his hair and was, as usual, slicked back. He had inherited the bright blue eyes from his father's side of the family, a trait I admired and resented because I had not had the luck to gain it.

"Yeah" I pasted on a false smile "thanks, daddy"

He smiled, placed a hand upon my head and patted my brunette curls affectionately. My mother casually stepped through the ocean of relatives and over to me, smiling widely.

She was fairly tall for a female, with hair identical to mine, though shorter. In other words, curled in these disgustingly perfect ringlets that were, unfortunately, perfectly natural. I had not gotten her eyes, either, mine were all my own.

"Ooh, yeah, hi, haven't seen you in awhile, Aunt Fofo. Yes, nice to see you" she managed to make it over to me, smiling widely, "how do you like your new pet, sweetie? Isn't he adorable…you should go teach him to sit"

And I was shooed from the room before my mouth could even open. Next thing I knew, the door was opened and the dog was dumped on the bed next to me. It instantly bolted off the bed and into the corner, glaring like a human.

The silence was deafening.

"So…." As soon as my mouth opened, the mutt began to growl in the back of it's' throat.

Why did my dad have to get me the devil dog?

"I think I should name you cranky" I glared right back. The creatures' mouth opened and a quiet little 'yip' escaped its mouth as if to respond.

"You're sorta smart for a bratty little doggie…so…yeah…the mask says it all. Your name is Erik now" it turned its face to me, floppy ears perking in recognition and slight interest. Another teensy yip.

The familiar sounds of my aunt Helen trying to marry me off again reverberated off the walls outside my room. I heaved a little sigh and looked back at the mutt, whose eyes were intensely studying me.

"So….I'm…talking to my new dog…" it yipped again, this time in what I could swear was irritation.

A loud chorus of yells came from outside (the world I dare not enter for fear relatives would eat me) and someone yelling, "she's smart, she'll be a psychiatrist, I'd bet all my steak on it!"

Yeah. Definitely an argument worthy of my family.

"….." the dog's expression read. Then, I heard something. I thought it was my aunt Helen screaming again, so I got up and locked my door warily.

But the sound wasn't a girl's voice…it was male…and it was grumbling in a slight French accent…

….what the hell?

"Dog…are you…talking?" I asked, getting off my bed. I knelt over cautiously, eyes wide and disbelieving.

"Ohh my, you blithering fool, have we truly regressed to referring to me as a canine when you had the name so correct?" the mutt turned and pawed forward a little, arrogantly giving me a once-over.

My mouth dropped to the floor, my jaw hung slack, my eyes began wider than dinner plates.

My dog could speak. And like really speak, none of that woof bullshit.

"….you're a dog" the creature suddenly stepped to me and clamped its fangs into my arm, snarling.

"I'd kinfly haff you know tha' I a' no do', mademoiselle" he managed, arm still in his mouth.

(I'd kindly have you know that I am no dog, mademoiselle)

"OWWW!" I yelled, raising my arm. The little mutt remained set, teeth sinking in and producing a stream of bright scarlet.

"Ta' ba' tha' las' commen', mademoiselle!" the canine exclaimed.

(Take back that last comment, mademoiselle)

I frantically waved my hands around before I closed my hand around the dog's tail, yanking him free of me with a loud slash across my skin as his teeth scraped crossways. I held him in the air by the scruff of his neck.

"HOW DARE YOU BRING SUCH DISHONOR TO THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA!"

…….Tell me I'm dreaming. Tell me he didn't just say that.

Ohh damn.

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Review and I will continue. Wow, I hate this idea :laughs: ahh, well, I like writing it. Flames will be used to toast marshmallows. Anyways, Phantom puppy has mauled me!