Pear appreciation

She loves a pear, that dog. 

In fact, if I had to hazard a guess at what she's thinking, it would be "I love a pear, me." 

Misshapen it was, and (judging by the crunch) turnip-hard. No matter. It all disappeared in a couple of chomps. 

Felt remarkably fresh when I got up, considering yesterday's shenanigans. But as the day's gone on, I've been fading. I think we all know what that means.