You close your suitcase, but then hesitate. Your canine friend notices, and cocks his head.
"Something wrong?" he asks.
"Well," you respond, trying to put your real feelings out of your head. "I gotta be honest with you, I'm stuck in a small apartment right now, since I'm in college still. It probably won't be that great of a place for you to live, as a dog and all..." you trail off, avoiding his searching eyes.
"Hmph," he snorts, "I'm not that picky, a big yard's just something to look forward to in the future, but...that's not what's really worrying you, is it?" You wonder if he can smell the doubt on you, and somewhat miss being able to tell what others are feeling simply by their scent.
"I wish..." you start, sitting down on the dog bed, then decide to have out with it, "I wish there was some way to have the best of both worlds...I can't be a dog all the time, but I would like to be able to change sometimes without having to come all the way back here, and..." you look away shyly, "I'm kind of curious about what you were like as a human. I think it would be nice to be able to hang out sometimes as people, not just as person and dog..." You wonder if you've gone too far, and sneak a peek at his face.
Having been a dog, you can read his expressions and posture better than most people, but without the expanded senses and natural instincts that came along with being a dog, you feel like his expression is inscrutable at this point.
"Well, honestly, there's something I wanted to tell you..." he began.