A little Boston Terrier struts by you and plops down right in your way. Apparently it’s his favorite spot.

Grrr rahhh? Bark ark, yip? Grooh arf brrr ruff. (What do you think you’re lookin’ at? I’m a dog, what do you expect? It’s not like you’d be able to hold a conversation with me.)

He doesn’t seem inclined to move…