A Jack Russell Terrier was rolling around a little bit when he suddenly sat up at feeling cold stone. He sniffed around a bit, ran around a bit, and jumped up on the table. He nudged the Dictaquill, which sprang to life.
Oh!Wishbone thought. The Dictaquill wrote that down. Also the 'hmmmm' he thought after that. Then it pointed at the application.
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"Hey," he called cheerfully as he approached. "I'm Simba." Then he cocked his head to the side and scrunched up his nose; he had a question. "What's a chew toy?"
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Eh, lion.
Something that I can chew on and the owners won't get mad at me about it.
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"Owners? Who are they? I get to chew on whatever I want."
Well, unless it was food that someone else had caught, in which case, he really shouldn't take it, because then they'd get mad and try to steal it back and he wasn't really supposed to go around challenging people to fights... Not that he couldn't win! But... It wasn't a good idea. But food had never been a problem for him, with his Dad being who he was.
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You invade one at a time. Shur you seem Harmless enough until that one day when you out number us then you raze up and over through the Human empire.
Well luckily I have discovered you evil ploy and after long and hard thought I finally decided to hereby accept your unconditional surrender to the newly formed unofficial Hogwarts Red Army.
I'll have Private Groupie bring you the paper work.
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[[Oh Sarge.]]
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I hav' accepted your'a unconditional surrender and membership.
You, private Chew-toy, are now tha third in command an' commanding officar of tha K nine division effective thirty seconds ago.
Now tha best place to put ya would be with either me or with Private Groupie. At least then one’ve us could show ya the ropes.
And so is only logical ta vote ya into Huffly-Dor.
Once I inform Private Groupie of ya membership I’ll finalise details. Until then, ya on vacation… Unpaid!
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Fortunately, the forced imprisonment in the tent village did not apply to attending Sortings, even if the House Elves insisted on escorting her. Sure, driving Dwight crazy was fun, but Tomo was sick and tired of beets.
She came into the Sorting a little late, looked at the application, looked at the applicant, and came up with the most profound greeting ever.
"A talking dog? AWESOME!"
Okay, "profound" was a relative measure.
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"Can I pet you? My dog Kuro's back home in Japan. He always likes ear scratches."
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Welcome to Ravenclaw!
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