Whispers From the Tent - Phili

Phili was about my age. I talked to him practically all the time. I was sure that he understood. A smack of the lips, a quick, repeated chirrup, would calm him instantly, no matter how high his spirits. And just as quickly, I could snatch him from lethargy by clucking my tongue against the roof of my mouth. His spirit would be aroused at once, and when I combined the clucking with a forward touch of my heels, he would bound away with me.

— Drinkers of the Wind, by Carl Raswan, 1944