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    Summary

    When Jabber thinks of Zanka, he tends to think of a dog. It’s the eyes, mostly—big, dark, drooping downward in a way that always makes him look like he’s asking to be pitied. I’m so sad and mopey and pathetic, pretty pretty please feel bad for me. If Jabber’s in an especially bad mood, he’ll come up with a couple meaner parallels. Dogs don’t ever leave you alone. No matter how much they like to bark and growl and bite, they always come right back to you, drooling over their favorite stick as they beg you for a pat on the head and assurance that they are, in fact, your favorite boy. 

     

    Jabber doesn’t like dogs. Whether he likes Zanka depends on the day. 

    Jankatober Day 3–Obsession

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