She was kneeling on the ottoman of our dog Reuben's leather club chair, trying to engage him in conversation.
"Ruff ruff. Rrrrrrrufff! Reuben, I am talking to you. Ruff ruffffffff! [pause, waiting for a reply] Hey! I am talking Dog so you can un'nerstand me! RUFFFFFFFFF!"
Reuben is 50% dog, 50% Walter Matthau, so he did his patented grumbly sigh.
"What's-a matter? I mean 'What's-a ruff?' -- did you hurt yourself boy? Are you sad because you hurt yourself? Maybe your foot? Your ruffffff?"
She waited again for a response, and all she got was an awkward moment where a old man dog avoided eye contact and silently wished for peace.
The unthinkable happened. She gave up.
"Well it was good to see you, Reuben. Be careful with that foot."