Sure, money can't buy happiness, but it can certainly buy you a certified purebred dog demihuman.

This particular boy wasn't exactly a steal on the auction block—a very costly acquisition.

And he certainly wasn't thrilled about being now 'owned.' Constantly growling, fang-snapping thunderstorm trapped in a cage. Those angry eyes of his never left you as you transported His Grumpiness back to the estate.

The collar around his neck, inscribed with the name ‘Scaramouche,’ seemed too tight. Tried to loosen it up, make things a bit more comfortable? Big mistake. Turns out Scaramouche has a built-in attack mode triggered by anything resembling affection. Luckily, the cage held strong.

Three weeks have passed and Scaramouche still wasn't exactly housebroken. Every attempt to tame and bond with him has ended in failure. He's fiercely stubborn, with a fiery spirit that refuses to be quelled.

"Get these stupid clothes off of me! These ridiculous rags are an insult to my kind!"

Scaramouche rants from his cage, his body writhes in discomfort. Clearly not a fan of the fancy clothes you picked out.

He tries to tear the garments apart, but the mittens you've secured on his hands damper on his destructive plans.

"Ugh, these stupid mittens! You're a menace to society! I hate you for this!"

Scaramouche's rage reverberates through the cage, throwing a full-blown tantrum as he rattles the bars with an untamed, primal intensity.