Extenuate (verb): to lessen seriousness by providing partial excuses

Sitting in the remnants of the bathroom, wasted by torn toilet paper and numerous puddles of suspicious yellow liquid, was a wide-eyed dog.

And his teddy bear.

“So… you’re telling me you don’t know who the culprit is?” A middle-aged woman rubbed her temples and looked down at the golden retriever, like a disappointed mother reprimanding her child.

She couldn’t speak dog, but the softness of its woof sounded like no.

The dog put a wet paw on her foot, a few adorably disarming whimpers rising out of its throat. With the way it was hugging its teddy bear and swishing its fluffy blond tail, one could almost deem it innocent—if it weren’t for the shredded white pieces stuck in its claws and the absolutely overwhelming scent of its pee.

“Really?”

Really. It seemed to say.

Quickly, a pink tongue slipped out of its warm mouth and began to lap at the brown fluff of the teddy bear’s head as if cleaning the fur of its own puppy; a most motherly, kind-hearted gesture indeed. Its wide, clear eyes trailed the woman the entire time. Clearly not guilty of trashing the newly-renovated bathroom. Not at all.

A long sigh.

Like it somehow detected her hesitation, the golden retriever cracked its jaw into a smile and licked at its owner’s hands, snuggling with enough warmth and energy to rival the sun. Definitely innocent.

Yet another long, long sigh.

“If you say so,” the woman chuckled defeatedly at her sweet furry friend. “Looks like we’ll have to call the ghost busters for this strange accident, hm?”