Stavanger Bay give me daughters, send me sons, i'll make them all chosen ones

For anyone allowed in the den!  Dog sausage time.

The scope of her world was very narrow.  It was limited to sensing, not thinking.  She was aware of things, but was without the knowledge to name them or aptly respond.  She was a creature of instinct, and little else.

She could crawl along at a snail's pace, and she could sleep.  But her favorite was eating, and so that was what she did with whatever frequency she was allowed.  Currently, she was quite interested in doing so, so she let out cries of indignation, hoping to catch the attention of someone who could rectify her situation.