When a young male pig hears the title of this post, they probably think of something like this:
Those who are besotted with Age and Wisdom have gotten past that sort of nonsense. We think in these terms:
My goodness, what a thing it is to see her gamboling and giggling across a meadow of flowers! I hate to pull her back toward me, for safety.
When you trim/clip a poodle's ears, they flop better when the dog runs. Delightful.
She does frantic spins when I put her food down at 4 p.m. I fantasize photographing her with a drone that rises up over a hilltop, and catches her twirling around like Julie Andrews at the beginning of the "Sound of Music."
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