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“He pushed to his feet, wobbly, still adjusting to his new center of gravity. He gingerly moved one forepaw, then the next, one rear paw, then the other. He picked up the pace, but still slow as he circled the clearing. A snort, like he'd figured it out, and he broke into a lope, stumbled and plowed muzzle-first into the undergrowth. I stifled a laugh, but not very well. and he glowered at me. "Forget running. A nice, leisurely stroll might be more your speed." He snorted and turned fast. When I fell back, he gave a growling chuckle. "Still can't resist throwing your weight around, can you?" He lunged again. This time I stood my ground and he checked his leap at the last second...and toppled sideways. I didn't hide my laugh that time. He twisted fast, grabbed my pajama leg and wrenched, and down I went. "Bully." He growled a chuckle. I fingered an imaginary tear in my pant leg. "Great. I finally get some pj's and you rip them." He walked over for a better look. I tried to grab his foreleg, but he darted out of my reach and tore across the clearing.” — Kelley Armstrong