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Hello, My Canine

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Indubitably so, my canine fellow is a rather  odd creature. He lay not so still on my lap as he yawns and sniffs and jerks his head hither and thither.  Should he attempt to go I shan't let him; he is not worthy of the freedom to do such, even as he sinks his deep, bold brown eyes into my own: he is still my lesser. Good boy.

Now he lay resting as though only stuffed.  What a silly little thing he pretends to be. I absorb the thinly furred long face a foot's length across from me and smile. Come on now, sweet friend.  Only I am here, cannot you break the rules but once?  Just speak one word, even if not English.  Who should believe me, a mad man, should I tell anyone of a speaking dog?  They'd think I'm mad!  Even more than now!  But come, come, this is serious.  

His eyes cloudy, I tried for analysis, but no response.  He would not break character; even as I accused him of being false, he simply stuck out his tongue and felt my finger, the very one I directed at his little face that day.  I couldn't help but let out an expletive.  I pray, he shall speak one day.




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