I’m a struggling writer with writer’s block, living in a stuffy rented room.
One night, my dog suddenly starts talking:
“It hurts! What are you standing around for? Pull it out!”
From then on, I can understand every animal.
The ragdoll cat makes snarky remarks with an aloof air, the hamster argues over its food, the rabbit reasons things out, and the dog begs for attention every day.
They scold me, argue with me, and drive me crazy,
but when I’m lonely, they quietly keep me company.
Everyone else thinks I’m raising pets.
Only I know the truth:
I’m raising a whole houseful of family members who can talk.
From now on, I’m their one and only: the Big-Pig-Trotter pet parent.
