"...Peanut," she finished. You look at her, cocking your soft head to one side as Mom began patting you. "All right, Peanut," Mom cooed in a babyish fashion as a group of other shoppers exited. She set you down on your four paws and clipped a leash to your new collar. "It's time for a walky-poo, Peanut."
Peanut? Walky-poo? You begin howling and whining at the horrible thought.
"Peanut," Mom firmly says. "Peanut, hush." A few bystanders were chuckling amusedly as you sulked, lowering your head and closing your muzzle, your tail between your legs like any bad dog.
"Good boy. That's a good boy, Peanut." You keep from barking again as Mom started walking. You sit down and look up at her. "What are you waiting for, Peanut?" Mom gently jerked the leash. "Let's go." There were more chuckles from the passersby as you laid down on the rough pavement.
"Fine," Mom sighed. "I guess we'll just have to..."
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