White Dog's wonky eye, swollen and crusty from allergies, has made her surly. At breakfast she spit out berries with the disdain of a Rothschild sampling Lancer's Rose. On her perch at the window, she thoroughly tongue-lashed anyone daring to pass within her lines of sight. Our every conversation ended with my stern, "No!"
After irritably pacing and muttering under her breath for a while, White Dog finally stomped off--back to bed.
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