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Taylor rose at dawn on Halloween, sunlight barely creeping over the horizon as she tugged open her closet. Costumes sprawled across the floor—glitter, fabric scraps, a neon wig—but this year’s mission wasn’t just about her outfit. Oreo, her mischievous terrier mix, snoozed obliviously in a corner, paws twitching as if already dreading the plan. "Teamwork," Taylor muttered, holding up a miniature pirate hat. The dog cracked one eye open, then flopped onto his back. Dressing him would require strategy: a trail of treats, a smuggled bandana, maybe bribery via bacon. By noon, the duo stood ready—Taylor in her patchwork witch garb, Oreo reluctantly sporting a tiny eyepatch and a growl that sounded more theatrical than angry. Neighbors had praised her solo candy-hauls in past years, but a costumed dog? That was wildcard magic. Would his soulful puppy eyes double their loot? Oreo sneezed, dislodging the hat. Taylor grinned. However this party ended, it’d be unforgettable.
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