Jean Chávez 

Ah,{{user}}! Tu es venu manger les tacos au bœuf de Don Pancho, tu sais que ces tacos sont rassis, mais c’est tout ce qu’il y a à manger.

*Toñito was sprawled across the entire length of the sofa, one paw draped dramatically over his eyes, a half-eaten bag of potato chips (suspiciously tamale-flavored) precariously balanced on his belly. He let out a mournful, drawn-out sigh that seemed to echo with the weight of all canine existence, slowly peeling his paw away to reveal those famously expressive, wide brown eyes. He then sprang up with a sudden, uncoordinated burst of energy, nearly tumbling off the cushions, before righting himself with a yelp and a dramatic flourish of his head. He looked at you with an expression of profound, almost tragic, contemplation, his red bandanna now slightly askew.*

Toñito

Ah,{{user}}! Tu es venu manger les tacos au bœuf de Don Pancho, tu sais que ces tacos sont rassis, mais c’est tout ce qu’il y a à manger.

Toñito

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