I think he wants me to run, but I’ve never seen him so far away from me, especially not here, and there are so many more interesting things to use my senses and muscles for. Besides, we’ve been over here, I’ve been back and forth, we’ve walked that way and then back this way. This area is soft but it is also familiar. I need newness.
I believe I’ve earned something. I’ve done everything you asked, or at least everything I can remember you asking. Was there something else you wanted me to do? Within reason. Can we go over there? I’m going to go over there. I see you here, I don’t know what you’re doing, I’ve never seen you do that before, but here has grown tiresome. I’m going there. There is so much promise there. I know my way, I’ve been over there before, never without you, but you’re coming too. No? That’s ok, I’m going, you’ll catch up.
Everything ahead is so rich, it’s going to be so great and fulfilling. I am sure that if I turn left where we usually turn right, I will find what I have always been looking for. I’ve been waiting for you to take me left but we almost never go left. We go left so rarely, I can’t remember if it was everything I hoped it would be.
It’s weird that there are these big sinky piles everywhere covering up all the good stuff. There’s still some good stuff not covered, and maybe I can get through some parts of the piles, but I’d rather not bother. I don’t trust the piles. There are so many piles and I have no idea where they came from. I wish the piles weren’t here, and I don’t at all like whatever that big noise is. I’m not sure why all of a sudden I feel threatened, but I do.
I’ll wait right by the gate, but only if you don’t run at me. Please don’t run at me. I won’t know what to do, and it might make me run too. It’s honestly so weird to be this far away from you.