Mr. Dog by Margaret Wise Brown
Once upon a time there was a funny dog named Crispin's Crispian.
He was named Crispin's Crispian because he belonged to himself.
In the mornings he woke himself up and he went to the icebox and gave himself
some bread and milk. He was a funny old dog. He liked strawberries.
Then he took himself for a walk, and he went wherever he wanted to go.
But one morning he didn't know where he wanted to go.
"Just walk and sooner or later you'll get somewhere," he said to himself.
Soon he came to a country where there were lots of dogs.
They barked at him and he barked back. Then they all played together.
But he still wanted to go somewhere, so he walked on
until he came to a country where there were lots of cats and rabbits.
The cats and rabbits jumped in the air and ran, so Crispin jumped in the air and ran after them.
He didn't catch them because he ran bang into a little boy.
"Who are you and who do you belong to?" asked the little boy.
"I am Crispin's Crispian and I belong to myself." said Crispian.
"Who and what are you?" "I am a boy," said the boy, "and I belong to myself."
"I'm so glad" said Crispin's Crispian. "Come and live with me."
Then they went to a butcher shop -- "To get his poor dog a bone," Crispian said.
Now since Crispin's Crispian belonged to himself, he gave himself the bone and trotted home with it.
And the boy's little boy bought a big lamb chop and a bright green vegetable
and trotted home with Crispin's Crispian.
Crispin's Crispian lived in a two-story doghouse in a garden. And in his two-story doghouse he had
a little fur living room with a warm fire that crackled all winter and went out in the summer.
His house was always warm. His house had a chimney for the smoke to go out.
And upstairs there was a little bedroom with a bed in it and a
place for his leash and a pillow under which he hid his bones.
And there was plenty of room in his house for the boy to live there with him.
Crispin had a little kitchen upstairs in his two-story doghouse where he fixed himself a good dinner three times a day because he liked to eat.
He liked steaks and chops and roast beef and chopped meat and raw eggs.
This evening he made a bone soup with lots of meat in it.
He gave some to the boy and the boy liked it. The boy didn't give Crispian his chop bone,
but he put some of his bright green vegetable in the soup.
And what did Crispian do with his dinner? Did he put it in his stomach?
Yes, indeed. He chewed it up and swallowed it into his little fat stomach.
And what did the little boy do with his dinner? Did he put it in his stomach? Yes, indeed.
He chewed it up and swallowed it into his little fat stomach.
Crispin's Crispian was a conservative. He liked everything at the right time.
Dinner at dinnertime, lunch at lunchtime, breakfast in time for breakfast,
and sunrise at sunrise and sunset at sunset, and at bedtime -- at bedtime he liked
everything in its own place -- the cup in the saucer, the chair under the table,
the stars in the heavens, the moon in the sky, and himself in his own little bed.
And then what did he do? Then he curled into a warm little heap and went to sleep
and he dreamed his own dreams. That was what the dog who belonged to himself did.
And what did the boy who belonged to himself do? The boy who belonged to himself
curled in a warm little heap and went to sleep, and he dreamed his own dreams.
That was what the boy who belonged to himself did.