Peggy ran in, panting heavily. ‘Oh my god, granda, our human can talk! Put down that paper,’ she said, circling his chair madly.
Rupert wasn’t interested, making a conscious effort to ignore her and focus on his crosswoof. ‘What? No, you’re going off again with one of your fantasy stories. You’re eating too many dog biscuits. You’ve snuck into that cupboard I’ve told you not to, again. Is this like that time you thought the neighbours’ human could speak?’
‘I was taking Hooman on her walk, like every morning,’ said Peggy, ‘And she turned around and said, “Hello”!
Peggy remembered complaining to Hooman about the repetitive clicker her teacher used at Puppy School. And Hooman had told her, ‘I don’t like the sound of clickers either!’ Peggy was flabbergasted. But she didn’t tell her granda any of this.
Rupert replied sarcastically, ‘I’m sure she said woof woof’.
‘In our language, granda.’
‘She spoke to you? Did anyone else hear these things? You need to have witnesses.’
‘We were one our own, you always refuse to come on our walks.
‘I remember from my time in the CIA… I thought I heard a human speak,’ he whispered under his breath as vivid flashbacks crossed his mind….
