Jake and Kat had always talked about doing something spontaneous. So one random Friday morning, over pancakes and coffee, Kat looked up from her plate and said, “Let’s go to Vegas.”
Jake blinked. “Wait, seriously?”
“Dead serious,” Kat grinned. “Let’s just pack a bag and go. We’ll take Oliver too.”
Their little brown fluffy dog, Oliver, perked up at the sound of his name, his ears twitching like he already knew something exciting was about to happen.
By noon, their bags were packed, Oliver’s leash was clipped on, and they were pulling out of the driveway in Jake’s SUV. The drive was long, but the views of the desert stretching for miles kept them entertained. Kat played DJ, scrolling through playlists while Oliver had his head out the window, tongue flapping and fur whipping in the wind.
“Look at him,” Jake said, laughing. “He looks like he’s skydiving.”
Kat leaned back, snapping pictures on her phone. “I’m making a whole highlight reel of his Vegas road trip.”
By the time they reached the Las Vegas Strip, the sun was setting, casting a golden glow on the skyline. Neon lights started flickering on, and the city came alive. Oliver sat upright in the backseat, eyes wide as he looked out the windows at the chaotic buzz of people, lights, and giant billboards.
They pulled into a pet-friendly hotel right off the Strip. As they entered the lobby, a well-dressed front desk clerk beamed at Oliver. “Oh my gosh, what a cutie! May I pet him?”
Kat smiled. “Of course. His name’s Oliver.”
“He’s already the most popular guy in the lobby,” Jake said, as another guest came over with their phone to snap a picture of him.
The hotel surprised them with a little silver tray that had a dog biscuit shaped like a bone on it. “For our VIP guest,” the staff said with a wink. Oliver sniffed it suspiciously before wolfing it down, tail wagging furiously.
Their room was on the 18th floor with a panoramic view of the Strip. Oliver leapt up onto the bed immediately and plopped himself in the middle like it was all his.
“I guess we’re sleeping on the floor,” Jake joked, dropping his duffel bag.
“No way. We’re squishing in around him,” Kat said, falling back onto the bed next to Oliver and burying her face into his soft fur. “This is his trip now.”
That night, they took a walk through the bustling streets. Fremont Street was alive with music and performers—there was a guy breathing fire, a girl dancing in roller skates, and even someone dressed like Elvis. People kept stopping them to say, “Your dog is adorable! Can I take a picture?”
“He’s gonna be famous before we are,” Jake laughed.
Oliver didn’t mind the attention. He strutted down the street like he belonged there, occasionally stopping to sniff a bush or tug toward someone with a snack.
They stopped to grab food at a taco truck and sat on a bench just outside the Bellagio fountains. The water show started, and Oliver’s ears perked up at the sound of music and rushing water.
“You like that, huh?” Jake asked, rubbing behind his ears.
Kat leaned her head on Jake’s shoulder, smiling at the sight of Oliver staring in awe. “This is literally perfect.”
Later, back at the hotel, Oliver sat by the giant window, watching the city lights blink like stars on the ground. Kat took off her heels and dropped onto the bed.
“I don’t want to go home tomorrow,” she mumbled.
Jake laughed, slipping off his hoodie and tossing it onto the chair. “Let’s just live here. You, me, and Oliver in a suite forever.”
Oliver yawned from the window seat.
“Even he’s down,” Kat said, curling under the blanket. “Vegas suits him.”