Wheeling Gull Isle not unlike the waves

He growled and he fought, but the flower was too strong for him.  He lost his grip on the stem and the flower shot back upright, mocking him from its lofty position above him as he lay on his back, glaring at it in dismay.  Grumbling, he rolled over and stood up, flecks of grass littering his dark charcoal fuzz, and marched awkwardly over to the offending plant.  He lifted an oversized paw and smashed the flower flat to the earth, growling furiously as he worried the foul-tasting stem with his teeth.  It wasn't long before he noticed that somehow, he'd managed to break the stem and the flower now lay, unmoving and dead, at his feet.  

Were his cognitive faculties better developed, he might have found himself saying, Hmph.  Not so sassy now, are you?

At some point he became aware that his sister was watching.  He saw her at the same time that she whined, and his tail began to wag vigorously in response.  Grabbing the flower stem in his teeth, he half-toddled, half-hopped over to her, the bright yellow flower bobbing from where it hung in his little jaws.  Dropping it to the ground before her, he pointed at it and exclaimed excitedly, "Fhaaaa!"