"You know what? Yeah, okay, let's go," you say, standing up.
"Great!" he barks happily, tail wagging quickly. "Come on, we'll talk as we walk."
He began trotting off at a casual, but not terribly slow pace. You stumble a bit as you follow, but before long, you start getting the hang of it. You're getting a rhythm to walking, and it works great. One foot after another after another after another. Repeat.
"Ya know, I'm glad to get the chance to meet you. It's so rare to have another talker around here. It gets lonely," he says as you catch up, keeping pace with him easily.
"The humans don't talk to you?" you ask, and it didn't really even occur to you that you started thinking of humans as something different than yourself. Heck, you didn't even realize the fact that you had no desire to find out this dog's name. It was of no consequence to you, just as your own name was of no consequence to you either. There were other ways to identify dogs. Scent, vocal sound, fur patterns.
"Oh, they do sometimes," he answered. "But it's not the same. They treat me like I'm any other dog, and they're always surprised when I talk back."
"Well, that sucks," your head cants to the left a bit. "Well, I won't talk down to you."
"I know you won't, and I'm glad for it. So..." he says, a sly tone to his voice. "Wanna see my favorite toy out here?"
"Toy?" you ask, mildly intrigued.
"Oh yeah, it's just over this way. It's awesome. C'mon!" He turned slightly, and started to run.
"Hey, wait!" you call out, and then chase after him. God. The speed. You've never run this fast before. It's a rush, a thrill. The wind racing past you, the terrarium grass crushed beneath your paws... it's amazing.
Finally, you catch up, and find the male sitting by what looks to be some sort of a cannon, angled up and pointed out at the distance.
"I'm not used to running yet!" you chide him, but he doesn't seem bothered.
"You did great," he answered. "Anyway, this is it. The wonder device. The source of so much entertainment."
"What's it do?" you ask, peering carefully at it.
"Oh, it's simple. Just watch. GO FETCH!"
It must have been a vocal command, because as he shouted, the cannon shot a tennis ball out and to the distance. Suddenly, you realized you had to have that ball. You wanted that ball. And you charged off after it. It took you practically no time at all to catch up to it, and pluck it up out of the grass in your teeth. You trotted back to the cannon and the waiting male, proud at your accomplishment. You drop the ball at the cannon and sit down, tail wagging.
"That was awesome," you say. "Do it again."