She laughed deeply, sitting down next to him. She had a sweet laugh, low and warm. "You thought he was me?!? When I have I ever licked your face?"
"Maybe that my dog was licking you? Although," she teased, laying down next to him. "I could lick you. But I think that'd be awkward for everyone involved."
She sighed dramatically, stretching out on the floor. "Fine." Tom took Francis' spot, and Poppy wrapped her arms around the dog, staring up at Francis defiantly as the dog looked up at her adoringly. "You've been replaced."
She sighed before turning to Tom. "Sorry, boy. Francis doesn't love you." He seemed to get the message, standing up and curling up by her feet.