“Hey Lewis, what’s with the teeth-on-toes action in the morning these days?
—Whatever do you mean?
“You know what I’m talking about. You’re not just licking my toes when you do your morning hoppy dance before breakfast, you’re nipping my toes.”
—Unequivocally and firmly and without hesitation, I deny that: I do not bite the toes that feed me . . . get it?
“Yeah, hilarious, you’re a real Henny Dogman—but come on, I’ve definitely felt your teeth on my toes.”
—If so, and I stoutly and without reservation refuse to admit to such a possibility . . . it would be accidental, pure and simple.
“Once would be an accident, maybe twice, but I’ve been getting nipped every morning now for over a week.”
—Do you feel no guilt over your obviously egregious and outrageous exaggerations? Let me state categorically: I do not bite, nip, nibble, chew, masticate, or otherwise grab with a vise-like-grip-that-rends-the-flesh your toes with my canine canines . . .
“Methinks the dog doth protest too much . . .”
—. . . but, if what you claim has happened, actually happened, though inadvertently, mind you, if I did, somehow, slightly, almost imperceptibly, and with the lightness of a tiny wisp of goose down brushing against an eyelash that has fallen undetected upon your forearm, actually grazed your precious wittle toesies with my small, and extremely dull teeth, rest assured there was no direct intention behind such an alleged act, rather it would be merely incidental, brought on by the excitement of the morning reverie.
“ . . . “
—Aren’t you going to retort with some of your biting human sarcasm . . . biting, get it?
“You’ve stupefied me with excess verbiage. Just watch the teeth from now on, okay?”
—You have my word.
“I’ve had too many of your words today: actions speak louder, got it?”
—No morning teeth. Got it . . . is it time for a biscuit yet?