"Hi, doggie. How's it going today?"
I started to move on when the dog jumped up, wagged its tail and said, in perfectly plain English: "Hello, sir. I'm just weak and couldn't respond right away. Could you please give me a bone, or something else to eat. I'm awfully hungry."
"Sorry, little fellow but I'm running late this morning."
The dog gave me a sad look and laid back down, looking away.
Several passers-by had by this time stopped. One asked me, "Hey, guy is that your dog you're talking to?"
"No," I said, "but look, he can talk. I'll show you." And I called out to the dog, snapped my fingers, whistled, did a little dance to get his attention. His eyes remained closed and he remained silent.
"Talking dog, huh?" said someone else, with a sarcastic laugh. The entire crowd moved on.
"That wasn't a nice thing to do," I said, wagging my finger at the dog. The little fellow jumped up again, shook himself, and said, "I didn't talk for the other people because you wouldn't give me anything to eat. That wasn't very nice of you."
"Tell you what," I said, reaching down to pat him on the head. "You come along with me, wait in my office till my work is done, and I'll give you all the food that you can eat. I might even think about adopting you, if you don't already belong to someone else."
"Deal!" said the dog. "And no, I don't belong to anyone--except you, now."