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.