Mary Lennox was . . . not, perhaps, in the best mood when she headed towards Milliways today.
But then she did enter Milliways.
And it was full of creatures.As far as Mary is concerned, the only thing better would be if the walls and tables had suddenly sprouted flowers. She sits down at a table, very still and quiet so as not to frighten any of
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Still, she's a little girl, she looks happy, and Brian is delighted to spend his time with nice people in the bar. He's possessed of unusually simple nature right now.
So he veers politely to greet her. He's only been a dog for a few days, and he's still managed to wear his nails down to silence on the hard floor. But his waving tail announces his presence. It's a semaphore of happiness!
Or something.
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However: happy dog! Mary holds out a hand, hopefully, for the dog's inspection.
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Clearly, he is to be petted.
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If there is no response, he will shortly be awarded one!
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The problem being that pettings, along with other sources of joy, tend to help him get his wires all crossed and he tries to talk in an untranslatable combination of English (which he can't even form most sounds for) and canine. The bar's translation system shrugs and goes about its business without trying.
But he gets that she's Mary. See the increased tailwagging?
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"I cannot understand," Mary says, rather apologetically - though she's still petting. She's good at petting. "Would it be all right if I called you something for short? Like Pup?"
Mary is not so good at names.
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Okay, guess Pup will work fine.
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Dogs seem to be quite easy to make happy.
Mary is pleased, and yet can't help feeling like she ought to be doing more. "Would you like something to eat?" she offers.
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