Papa, the Boyfriend’s Father, gave me his favorite hunting dog, Ruby for the day.
I was excited for the company.
Ruby did not seem to share my excitement.
He spent most of the morning sitting at the door with a sad look on his face, anxious to see anyone else but me. He would lift his right paw and hit it against the door handle and then look at me and whimper.
Trying to cheer him up, we went on four walks. I was sucking up a bit, and he saw through it.
I gave up.
Eventually, Ruby moved from the door to the new couch (chocolate brown couch + white Ruby hair = lots of cleaning fun for me). I would sit next to him, petting him, and talking to him trying to comfort him and make him happy and he would just look at me with a sad confused look.
And then it dawned on me, Ruby doesn’t understand English.
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