Ferdinand is magnificent

I wrote a book about the dog, and now, many years later, my conscience torments me. I believed that I invented all this, but in fact I just wrote off the book from my dog. One evening we stayed alone at home, only I and she. I was tapping something on my now unfriendly printing machine, and my dog ​​was lying at my feet and slept softly. But then suddenly something began to happen. Through a dream, my dog ​​began to smile, shake his paws and as if she wanted to run away from someone or from something. Without a doubt, she had a dream. It turns out that dogs, like people, have dreams. What if she dreams of becoming a man? So a book has developed in my head. There was only the very trifle: just write it down