Lomov: You take that back! My dog could best your dog any day of the week. He’s lost a
big of speed but still more nimble than your fleabag
and could still hunt like the grace of a
cheetah.
Natalya: Oh my! Such fantasies. Did you not grow out of those as a young boy?
Lomov: Shall we make a wager? Perhaps you should hunt with Father and I tomorrow.
We’ll take Squeezer and Guess along and whoever bags the biggest duck wins.
Natalya: Such envy of my lovable little Squeezer. He shall trounce this sorry excuse any
day of the week. Isn’t that right, Squeezer?
Natalya rubs Squeezer’s chin and Lomov follows suit in a tryst of competition to see who
can show their own dog more affection and attention.
CHUBUKOV yells from a distance. The words are inaudible but it is surely a command.
Lomov and Natalya abruptly stop showering the dogs with affection and run off towards
the barn door. The pair jostles for order all the way back to the house.
Squeezer: Well, it was nice while it lasted.