by Jonathan L. Miller
I am sitting in a chair. The Man has put me here. He rubbed my head and I thumped my tail.
I look next to me and see another man. He is also in a chair. The Man is talking to him, but he does not say my name, so what he says must not be important.
Now he is putting something on my head. It is like a bowl. The other man is talking now too, but he doesn't say my name either. He sounds angry, though. But The Man isn't listening to him, so neither do I. He has a bowl on his head too, and he smells scared.
Then something happens and I feel all confused. I feel strange, like I am sleeping, but I am not sleeping.