Me: Stop pulling.
Little Dog: Must pull. MUST PULL.
Me: Untrue. When we walk without Z, you are sweet and mellow.
Little Dog: He refuses to walk in formation.
Me: He’s a child.
Little Dog: It’s anathema to everything I believe in.
Me: You’ve never walked in a formation in your life.
Little Dog: I’m not a member of the herd, so that’s really not my job, is it now?
Me: Stop pulling!
Little Dog: Also, I hate it when he’s ahead of me. He’s a little human. No, a micro human. He can’t even adequately use a fork.
Z: I can too use a fork!
Little Dog: Micro humans have no business leading. Make him stop that. Stop it, micro human!
Me: You never used to do this when Big Dog was around.
Little Dog: I didn’t have to. Big Dog never let micro human walk in front. I’m a failure as a pack leader.
Me: Since when do you care about things like pack leaders?
Little Dog: Since Big Dog died.
Me: Also, I’m the pack leader.
Little Dog: Har har.
Me: Well, it isn’t you.
Little Dog: Is so.
Me: Har har.
Little Dog: I am canine, hear me roar.
Z: Look at me, look at me! I’m already at the corner!
Little Dog: Are we really going to let the micro human take the lead. WE ARE NOT!
Me: Wait a minute…
Little Dog: It’s go time, people!
Me: Stop!
Little Dog: CHARGE!
I love Little Dog. Sweet girl.
Aw, thanks. So do we.