<span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-style: italic">I love you too, puppy</span></span>, I replied silently. When I was focused on a task, I didn't like speaking. I felt it distracted me from more important matters, such as keeping my eyes on my work. After reassuring him about my love - I could completely understand his insecurity after the recent events - I went on with the stitching. It did look pretty bad. But I knew my treatment plus the healing pace of our kind together meant he had a pretty good chance of recovering. I didn't want to think about the alternative. Not now, not ever.<br/><br/>After I finished the stitching, I started covering his wounds tightly. I knew he was stubborn enough to try and pull the stitches the minute he thought I wasn't looking. "That's done, puppy, now leave the damn stitches alone. Does anywhere else hurt? Anything I didn't see?"<span style="font-style: italic"><span style="font-weight: bold">Don't lie to me, puppy. Really, don't.</span></span>