You can't remember the last time you've had this much fun. It's so simple, really, but in the end, isn't that always how it goes? It's the simple things that you enjoy the most. The taste of fresh meat, the smell of the clean air, and a ball that goes way out there so you can chase it down and bring it back. You realize your brain must be readjusting, because this new way of thinking doesn't bother you at all.
Your new friend seems to be enjoying himself too. After a bit, you start shouting out the commands to the cannon and he gives chase. It's really as fun a time for him as it is for you, and you're glad for that. The longer the game goes, the more readily you give up thinking about the reason you're here, the deception that brought you to where you were. Something about a boyfriend. It was hard to recall, and you didn't really care. This was the best time you've had in such a long time.
But eventually, you and your new friend are tired, and you opt for laying in the grass were you were, panting heavily from the exertion of running around so much.
"So..." your friend said as he adjusted his head to look towards you. "Do you feel better now?"
"SO much better," you answer, tail wagging lazily, what little energy you have causing it to thump idly on the grass. "It's honestly hard to remember why I was so upset."
"There's a girl," he said, scooting over in the grass despite laying on his side to get a little closer to you. "I knew you had the makings of a great dog in you."
"You did?" for some reason, that makes you feel very proud. You're not sure why, but you choose not to dwell on the thought.
"You betcha. It's not every day I see a shepherd as beautiful as you around these parts."
"Awww, shucks," if you could blush, you would have. You'd just have to settle for a slight flush of heat to your face.
"I mean it. You're a knockout. In fact, I'd really like to mate with you once we've rested up a bit."
"Wh-what?!" the forwardness of this statement took you off guard, and you reflexively scramble to a seated position, scooting back a bit.
"What's wrong?" he asked, not getting up from the grass.
"We... we only just met like, an hour or two ago! Isn't it a little... early for that?"
"No. We're dogs."
"Oh..." you suppose that makes sense, but the human in your mind finds it a bit odd.
"So what do you say?" he asks, and you can tell from the tone of his voice that he's really hopeful.