I want to be my dog. What a carefree and almost spoilt life. My dog gets walked, bathed by someone, brushed by someone, fed by someone. All he has to do is follow me around, beg when there’s food, sleep when tired and look cute all the time. Happy? Wag tail. Not happy? Sulk in a corner or growl.
Life’s great as a pet dog.
I want to be my dog. Woof woof.
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