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: Hi, I'm Charlie. And, you are? Sasha
: Not remotely interested.
: He's only 8 years old! Charlie
: That's 56 in dog years.
: Fine! Don't listen to me. Listen to your guardian angel. Charlie
: David, Cannery Square sounds like a great plan to me.
: Is there a Mr. Sasha? Sasha
: No. And I'm not taking applications.
[the Labrador gives Sasha a first-place ribbon and a bone for winning the talent contest
: You advertised a meal for the winner! Labrador
: If it's a meal ya want honey, I'm off at ten. Sasha
: Honey, I'd rather eat out of the garbage. Labrador
: [almost to himself
] That's what I had in mind.
: Why don't you ask him yourself? Sasha
: Now that would be a miracle. Charlie
: One miracle coming up.
[disappears by taking off the collar and reappears in front of Sasha and kisses her, his miracle goes into her
: Ugh! Of all the arrogant, presumptuous, egotistical mutts I've ever met! David
: Ahh! Now you talk.
[Sasha puts her paw over her mouth
: You must be an angel.
: So, is there a Mr. Sasha? Sasha
: Nope and I'm not taking applications. Charlie
: Okay. Okay but, if you were; what uh... what qualities would you be looking for? Sasha
: Oh, I don't know. Charlie
: Ah, of course you do. Sasha
: Hmmm. Well... loyalty, strength, breeding... Charlie
: I'd be good at that. Sasha
: ...humility... compassion
[Charlie accidently hits his head
: and of course, style.