The desk has spoken

So I'm giving up on the story. I wasn't really going anywhere with it anyway; I hadn't given it that much thought yet. Sorry to disappoint, I had planned on just wrapping the thing up for you but...well the desk has spoken on the matter.

My desk is nothing in the way of cute, inspiring, or really even practical, but it gets the job done. It happens to be a rather used desk, probably dating from about 10 to 15 years ago, and having had a rather large number of people use rather mercilessly it is aging a bit prematurely. So who can really blame it for being a little cantankerous? After all, it's not exactly in it's prime condition...

Anyway when I sat down to start part 4 (and I assure I had no idea what I was going to write) all of the books on my shelf fell over. They tend to do that alot; I really ought to get a book end of some kind. However they fell over in the other direction, opposite of their normal shift. This I took as a sign that the desk was displeased.

The desk has spoken. So it shall be written, so it shall be done. The dog story is over.