Wheeling Gull Isle heart made of glass, my mind of stone

She watched carefully as he bristled and slowed her interrogation, though he did not seem pleased until she was finished.  As soon as she broke contact the strange male the life trickled back into his statuesque form, and her ears stood at attention as he vocalized at her.

She moved her nose forward to nearly touch his sand-encrusted paw.  Slowly, she sank down into a play bow, her rear end wagging behind her as she returned his hopeful yips.