Me: Look. A fly wouldn’t stand a chance of sitting on your bowl if your big ole bulldog mouth would eat when your food is set down and not hours later.
Sweetie: There’s just no telling where its feet have been.
MoonCat: No doubt all the same places your feet have been.
I am Doodlebug, King of the Olde English Bulldogges.
Me: How well I know! What’s the problem, boy?
Doodlebug: Problem? What problem? There’s no problem.
Sweetie: She means why are you barking in your sleep?
Doodlebug: I was doing no such thing!
MoonCat: Yes. You were. Admit the truth, bulldog! You all are blabbermouths even when you sleep.
Doodlebug: Well, if I was talking in my sleep, and that’s a big IF, it’s because I had something to say. So…what did I say?
Sweetie: I dunno.
MoonCat: Who cares?
Me: I needed an interpreter.
Doodlebug: It could have been the most important thing ever said and you humans have all these phones and recording dealywhoppers and nobody captured my special comments…
Sweetie: Whoa there, big boy! Let’s not get carried away! Not every burp that you let loose smells like roses.
Bulldoggy 