Trout

There is a dog named Trout a few feet away from me. In between us are two walls and two doors. If Trout had any idea I was here right now, I would no longer be able to hear my typing fingers for all the barking. According to my cousins, E and R, any place that Trout has been for more than a few minutes with them is her new home, and she protects it from intruders, especially men. She doesn't like her feet to be touched, so her claws grow out a few centimeters from her paws like pencil lead. We are ambivalent about letting her snuggle up on their air mattress. She wants to, though; however protective, once you are friends, Trout is the sweetest dog, like a big reverse black hole, despite her color.

The good news is that when you come into the house, you can hear her coming and make a getaway. She's a lot better than life, but hits you just as hard.