“I hate it when people treat dogs like humans,” you said.
“It’s like they’re making dogs feel like they’re going to be humans too one day.”
I held back my laugh.
You looked at me curiously and continued anyway, “That’s why I don’t talk to Hunter and Patches.”
Then you went on about how when you hold a dog’s paw they might think, when will my paws turn into hands? And it pains you.
“Spot was the last one.”
I knew Spot of course. We saw him die at the vet. You squatted beside him, his head and neck limp and reaching for your lap. You held his paw like how you would a dying man’s.
(writing practice inspired by unphotographable.com)