He stands In front of the basin chewing a stick while he froths at the mouth.
He spits repeatedly, and drinks deeply from the water spitting it out once more.
He must be sick but this has gone on for as long as I can remember.
He stands for a moment staring at his double and for a moment I think he will finally catch him
Alas he turns his back and In a moment his twin is gone.
With a flick of his paw he turns day to night and retreats to his bed where he begins to shed his skin.
He looks down at me and mutters such harmonious sounds.
I do not understand but few words.
He stretches and yawns so I do as well
He pats me on the head with his paw heavy, and tender "good girl Brody. "
As he climbs into bed I hop up beside him a nestle my head on his stomach.
"Goodnight human. "
There's a storm raging outside, but since he got me my "thundershirt" I haven't been scared at all, it reminds me of when I was little snuggling
in the folds of mama's belly, I am hugged tightly. There is no fear.
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