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He almost did it. Dingo felt a swell of pride for his own great teaching abilities, and grinned down at the boy. That's right! Way to go, bub! His tail wagged behind him hastily, whipping at the dirt. Dingo craned his head down again and gave the boy a boop as if it were a gold star and Peter had earned it. Pooooo! the older boy imitated, his voice transitioning from a word to a tiny howl, drawing it out for as long as he had air in his lungs, and then he did it again but a little louder: PooooOOOoop!

When he was out of breath, Dingo stopped and panted for a moment. He listened for the little boy's voice, wondering if he would sing with him, and then let out a small chuckle at the thought. Hey, I think we just composed a song together! Dude! I call dibs on all the hot chicks, mmkay? You be my wing-man, he booped the boy again, this time with a reach of his nearest paw. We can tour around, play some shows, get all the hoo-haw. Well, I get the hoo-haw, you... You can, ah, Dingo couldn't finish the sentence because of a big yawn that caught in his throat, prompting him to open his loud mouth nice and big before Peter's head.