No lick

I'm reading the book Beacon 23 by Hugh Howey, and, really, can't help but laughing out loud when I read this passage:

“No lick,” I tell her, wiping my cheek. I’ve tried to train this out of her. “Never lick me again,” I say, shaking a finger at her. She sits and cocks her head to the side. “Last time. Never again. No licking. I mean it.” Her tail swishes the steel grating. I pat her head.

I swear she can read my mind, and yet somehow she doesn’t seem to hear a word I say. I scratch behind her ears and ask, “These are just for decoration, aren’t they?”

She licks my hand. I don’t know why I even try.

Totally reminds me of Annie.

Lick lick lick lick lick oh god stop with the licking lick lick lick lick lick lick stop it lick lick lick lick fuck dog lick lick lick lick lick lick lick stop lick lick lick lick lick lick lick.

Might be time for another dog.