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  • Before this pooch we had a black lab that would only bark if someone came to the door...and hardly even at that. This one, she's a talker. She talks to you each morning to say hello...get up. She talks to the cats when she's playing with them. She talks to the deer, possums and racoons outside in the middle of the night.

    Here she's saying, "Come on already. Let's go outside. See what we can smell. Tromp through the mud. What takes you so long?"

    My favorite talking is when she talks back. When she gets in trouble for, oh say eating both dishes of cat food or being on the couch when she knows it's prohibited. I have to admit, it's pretty precious.

    "Willow. Did you eat that cat food?"
    "Noooooooooo," she says head down, ears back, but tail wagging. "I did not eat that cat food."
    "I know you ate that cat food. That's bad." I tell her in my sternest voice, trying not to laugh.
    "Well I might have eaten it, but I didn't enjoy it very much," she says as she slinks away (head still down, ears still back) to hide behind the couch, not knowing exactly how much trouble she might really be in.
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