I wasn't feeling well. My dog Rexy said, "But you're not sick."
I said, "You're wrong."
I went to the doctor. They ran a battery of tests. The doctor said, "You're not sick."
I went home. My dog Rexy said, "What did I tell you?"
I was angry and ended up feeding Rexy dry food all week instead of her favorite caned Ken-L-Ration Liver and Kidney Bonanza.
I secretly read Rexy's diary. Rexy wrote, "That fool, Brooks. When will he ever listen to me? Or when will I stop trying to change him? Alas, none of us can help but fetch the tossed stick."
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