Oh floppy-eared dog. The one with the goofy, gap-toothed grin. Your coat so sleek and dark. Your eye-brow spots. Don't sigh around the house. Don't lick incessantly.
These animals I live with, I tell you, though they are not mine, I do really enjoy them. I especially like that I don't have to care for them or clean up after them. They are great companions and honestly, superb specimens of their kinds. Zorro is such an easy-going dog. He's usually quiet. He howls when he sees we're going outside. He also barks at dogs at the park because he's a cattle dog and has to boss everyone around. He is very fast learner and knows his place at the bottom of the pecking order. I do feel bad about his poor, sensitive paws though. I intend to make him some booties.
Chance is queen. We do her bidding. She is not like many cats though. She loves all forms of attention. She seriously likes her tail pulled. She talks a whole lot. She greets people from the stairs. Yells when she's hungry (she needs company to eat.) If we've been gone and she hears us coming home, she sits in the window and cries. Occasionally she forgets when we're home and yowls so loudly until we call her. She also comes when called. Almost always. Often she hesitates first, in order to make it known that she wanted it all along.
|he's scared of her. she knows it.|
So now I have animals again. Sorta. They're not actually mine.