I am Doodlebug, King of the Olde English Bulldogges.
Me: Sweetie, where are you running to?
Sweetie: Nowhere. My feet just go where they want. They’re on their own.
Me: Not so. Your feet go where you tell them to.
Sweetie: I’ve never said a word to my feet in our whole lives together. My feet are like the big rolling box. We jump in and it takes us wherever it wants to.
Me: Again, not so. I have to steer the car and step on the gas.
Doodlebug: My feet are lazy. They follow my nose when my nose is awake.
MoonCat: Let me be perfectly clear. My own personal feet are under my complete control at all times. Who would you rather have loose in your house?
I am Doodlebug, King of the Olde English Bulldogges.
Sweetie: Speaking of frowning, Lady Human…
Me: Are we still speaking of frowns?
Sweetie: I am. Why is my face shaped like a frown?
Doodlebug: Mine, too! All droopy mouthed.
Me: Our faces are our faces. A lot goes into that. Heredity. Your particular family line. And above all, you are bulldogs. I’m a human. We show that off in everything.
Doodlebug: What if I don’t like the way I look?
Me: Learn to like your face. It’s yours.
MoonCat: I do not frown. My face is the perfect example of composure and determined calm. Now leave me alone.