I parked the car next to the dog pen and got out. As usual, Lexy was waiting for me, looking expectantly with ears perked and tail wagging frantically. I swung the door open and smiled at her. Using my singsong, “There’s my Lexy, What’s my Lexy doin’?”

“What d’ya have for me t’day?” she stated gruffly. I stopped mid getting-my-purse-from-the-passenger-seat. I looked at her. I blinked and got out of the car. Forget the purse.

I stepped carefully to the fence. She was turning circles and hopping upand down. “What d’ya have, what d’ya have?” She repeated again and again. I petted her head. “Did you just? Lexy?” I said softly. She cocked her head to the left. “You speak Lexy? Yea!” Then she yelped happily!

I yelped in surprise! She panted and bounced in her playful way. “Treat, treat, treat!!” I went to the car and dug into my bag of treats. I always had one tucked away for her when I came home from work, afterall.

Of course, the entire time I cooked, window open, she talked. And talked. And talked.