Tika: I'm such a good puppy!
NM: You peed on the floor.
Tika: You still love me.
NM: I know, but you sleep all day and cry all night.
Tika: I'm a puppy. Let me sleep with you.
NM: No. You also need to learn to walk when we're outside. I'm not
your wheels... and you peed on the floor.
Tika: Why walk when I can ride, and you didn't take me out when you
knew it was time. The alarm went off and everything.
NM: My fault?
Tika: Your fault.
NM: I'm not happy.
Tika: Maybe I should kill myself.
NM: That's not suicide. That's torture. You whined and cried the
whole time I was teaching yesterday.
Tika: I adore you. You should let me help you teach.
NM: Played a lot of guitar have you?
Tika: No, but it fascinates me.
NM: You were pretty focused when I played for you.
Tika: Uh huh.
NM: Did I tell you one of my students asked what you were doing to
that toy upstairs while I was teaching?
Tika: What toy?
NM: Exactly, you squeeky, whiny little furball. (Then he scratched me.)
