Dreaming

”Fawn,” said Spot, shaking her friend. ”Wake up!”

”Leave me alone,” yelled Fawn. ”Don’t hurt me!”

Fawn was tossing and turning in his pen.

“Fawn, wake up!” exclaimed Spot, once mo, this time, shaking Fawn harder.

”What, what!” exclaimed Fawn, angrily, finally waking up. ”What do you want!”

“Look Fawn,” said Spot. “You must have been dreaming. You were yelling and screaming and kicking and thrashing around in your pen!”

”I was!” exclaimed Fawn.

”Yes,” said Spot. “You were yelling ‘Leave me alone! Don’t hurt me!’ You don’t remember that.”

”No,” said Fawn. ”I don’t.”

”Well that is probably a good thing,” said Spot. ”It didn’t seem like a very good dream.”

”No kidding,” said Fawn, yawning.

”Okay,” said Spot. ”Try to get back to sleep.”

Fawn went right back to sleep, within minutes. About an hour later, he was moaning and groaning and kicking his stall.

”Fawn,” said Spot, shaking his friend once more. “Wake up!”

”What did you wake me up for this time?” asked Fawn. “I was right in the middle of eating a great big apple pie!”

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