I was outside washing the windows, and my dog was looking at me forlornly, the way he usually does when he can see me and I'm not petting him. Then it slowly dawned on me as he continued to stare at me like I was betraying him, that the motions that I made with my hands across the glass as I rubbed it dry, were remarkably similar to the hand motions that involve petting a dog.
"Oh Merlin," I said shaking my head, "you're making me feel bad for washing the windows...You dog."
He sighed dejectedly and walked away.
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