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"So Max, do you like it here?"
"Yeah!" Max barked. "You get to play and learn and be a kid. Not like the outside, where you have to pretend to be big all the time. Now I get to be little and just have fun!"
Melissa had a creeping feeling "And your... uniform is a part of that?"
"Yeah. Sailor suits are what we wear. Little kids."
Melissa trailed off. What an odd thing to say. Most 10-year-olds she knew would never willingly refer to themselves as "Little," much less consider outfits as a mark of such a positive.
That Isn't me you're talkin' to, lady!
Melissa froze. In the mirror behind Max was his reflection, but not. His infantile uniform was gone, replaced by a simple shirt and jeans. The pup's face reflected cold fury.
She blinked and the image was gone. There was only Max in his sailor suit, busily building.
"Are you all right Ms. P?" The concern on his muzzle was heartachingly genuine.
"Sorry. I was lost in thought. Let's continue."
(C) Ken McKey 2024
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