Little Dog: So, you’re a big dog.

Big Dog: Go away.

Little Dog: I’ve always wanted to meet a big dog.

Big Dog: Leave me alone.

Little Dog: And here you are! You’re big. You’re a dog. The genuine article. The real McCoy.

Big Dog: You talk too much.

Little Dog: This is the happiest day of my life!

Me: I thought yesterday was the happiest day of your life.

Little Dog: What happened yesterday?

Me: You met the neighbor.

Little Dog: It’s an evolving paradigm. So, Big Dog, now that we’re friends…

Big Dog: We are not friends.

Little Dog: You’re right. We’re best friends. And being as how that’s happened, I feel like we should do some best friend things.

Big Dog: Like what?

Little Dog: I could chew on your ears.

Big Dog: No.

Little Dog: Or I could share your bone with you.

Big Dog: No.

Little Dog: Just a little corner…

Big Dog: NO!

Little Dog: Okay, no bone then.

Me: Give Big Dog some time, Little Dog.

Little Dog: Boundaries aren’t my bag.

Big Dog: Why did you do this to me?

Me: You were depressed, you said. Lonely. I thought you might like a buddy.

Big Dog: This is not what I had in mind.

Me: How am I supposed to know what you want if you won’t talk to me?

Big Dog: I want to go back to my crate now please.

Little Dog: What if I just sat down next to you, Big Dog? Just right here, in the dog bed.

Big Dog: I am already in the dog bed.

Little Dog: If I curl up really small in this corner, you’ll hardly even know I’m here.

Big Dog: But I do know you’re here.

Little Dog: “Hardly” was the operative word, Big Dog.

Big Dog: So we just sit here.

Little Dog: That’s right.

Big Dog: Together.

Little Dog: Yep.

Big Dog: In the dog bed.

Little Dog: Feels pretty good, amirite?

Big Dog: It’s okay.

Little Dog: That’s because we’re friends.

Big Dog: Maybe.

Little Dog: Best friends

Big Dog: Don’t push it.

Little Dog: Okey doke.