She put some things in a large skin bag. It had dual straps such that she could put them over her back and carry the thing like a pre-historic back pack. I guess that is what it was. She loaded a similar contrivance – it had its straps in a different configuration – and used that difference to attach the thing to Moustache.
“Tighten it a little” I understood.
She cinched something in the two straps and the pack became much more firmly attached to the dog.
She looked around the place and put her left hand to her eyes. I heard a snuffle.
“I have loved it here” was in my mind.
Then, mouth moving, vocal chords engaged she said “au revoir; goodbye”
“No fair” I said with my vocal chords.
“Fair” she said.
“So why have we been playing this telepathy game” I put out from my mind.
“It’s kind of fun” she said in un-accented west coast American English.
“You’re from Seattle” I rejoined.
“No. Portland.”
“I guess we had better get out of here.”
“I was wondering if we ever would.”
That was Moustache
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