The sheepdog heard his human making sounds, but most of them held no meaning to him.
His concentration focused entirely on the smuggled strips of bacon, which vanished all too soon. The sheepdog used its big, pink tongue to lick a few stray bacon crumbs from the ground and then whimpered for more.
His human didn't offer more of the delectable treat, yet kept yammering at him.
There was so much more to vie for his attention. He sniffed the air, hoping he might catch a hint of more bacon.
His human's voice changed, becoming more demanding. The sheepdog gave him a moment of attention, but then the sounds blurred together. Through a fringe of hair, the sheepdog looked up into the eyes of his human. The dog sensed some distress and whimpered softly.
The dog felt a pressing need, walked over to a shrub planted near the veranda, lifted a leg, and watered the leaves as the tone of his human became more strident and even scolding.
Kev watched his brother the sheepdog nonchalantly peeing on their mother's prize azalea. "Jared, what's going on?" Kev's voice grew increasingly concerned.
A squirrel chattered from a nearby tree.
Kev watched the sheepdog rush to the base of the tree's trunk and bark its head off, tugging urgently at the lead attached to its collar. Watching Jared go nuts in a futile attempt to get at the squirrel, Kev shook his head. He wondered if he ought to betray Jared's confidence and inform their parents what had happened.