When lying down near your old friend you are such a Bengali sweet and softy in upper palate as you close your eyes.
As they do , boy and girl on a chocolate , in t.v. advertisement, gooey and goofy. You are not dog to fish for compliment.
They make jokes of your seeming lying in canine disinterest in flies, a lack of tail for the flying wind of flies.
You don’t understand their carnal jokes. Nor do they follow your dog’s emotions. Your paw-prints are not seen in garden.
After your old friend stopped thinking in her arm, you are such dogged friend who brings old smiles back to her eyes.