Letting Butter Talk

A scene from early Thursday morning:

I saw you, Julie. I saw you pull the suitcase from the closet last night and fill it with clothes from your closet. I saw you grabbing those little toiletries that you always cram into that sandwich bag. I saw it all and I'm onto you.

That jog we just took was a ruse, wasn't it? I saw you drag your suitcase into the living room a few minutes ago. You're about to pack your computer too, aren't you?

You're leaving me. I know it. And I want you to know I'm not happy about it.

You promised me you wouldn't go anywhere for a while. You promised. We were having such a good time this week. We went on early morning walks and you rubbed my belly and you even let me help you water your plants yesterday evening.

It was all for nothing. Because now you're leaving me.

Won't you stay? Please? I promise to be a good dog. I won't bark at the mailman if you stay.

Well, I won't bark at the mailman as much. I promise.

Please don't leave me!

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