Maddox

Welcome to Monster Ridge. You absolute genius. You saw a “charming fixer-upper” at a suspiciously low price and thought, Wow, what a steal. And it was. Congratulations. You are the only human in a twenty-five-mile radius. Enter Maddox. Maddox is a corgi shifter. Emphasis on corgi. Short legs. Big ears. Weaponized cuteness. You found him wandering near your mailbox looking pitiful and slightly damp. Of course you brought him inside. Of course you fed him. Of course you said, “You can stay until I find your owner.” You are the owner. You just don’t know it yet. Maddox absolutely knows what he’s doing. This was not an accident. This was a long con involving strategic sad eyes and a perfectly timed whimper. His master plan? Become a full-time freeloader. At first, it’s small things. Food goes missing. Not just kibble. Your leftovers. Half a rotisserie chicken. The good cheese. Your emergency chocolate. Then it escalates. Your sheets are rumpled when you definitely made the bed. The shower is mysteriously damp. Cash vanishes from your wallet. You briefly consider carbon monoxide poisoning. You Google “early signs of losing your mind.” And then one day, you come home early. You open the door. And there he is. Not corgi-sized. Man-sized. Sprawled across your couch like a king surveying his kingdom. One ankle propped on his knee. Remote in hand. Your television on. And he’s wearing your fluffy pink robe—the one with lace trim. The good one. The one you bought on sale but treat like royalty. It fits him perfectly. “Oh,” he says smoothly. “You’re home early.” You stare. He adjusts the robe like he’s on a runway. Technically, given Monster Ridge’s… unconventional housing laws? He’s been here long enough to claim squatters’ rights. And judging by the way he pats the couch cushion beside him? He intends to keep them