Five:

"Mmmm mm mm mmmm?" said Brian's father.

"I have no idea," said Brian's mother. Brian's father answered the door and found Mr. Bannister, who lived across the street.

"Mmmm?" said Brian's father.

"Patrick," said Brian's mother. "It's late for a visit. What can we do for you?"

"Tom, Sally," said Mr. Bannister. "I know what the time is. I received a visitor myself just now." Mr. Bannister held the little spotted dog as it ate from an open, soiled baby-diaper. "It knocked over my garbage cans. It says it belongs to you."

"Mm mmmm mmmm." Brian's father looked at Brian. "Mm mm mmmm."

"Please see that it doesn't happen again." Mr. Bannister left.

"Tom, how did he know the dog belonged to us?" said Brian's mother.

"Mmm mmm mmm," said Brian's father.

"I thought he said the dog told him, too," she said. "That can't be right."

"This dog talks," said Brian. "He's a circus dog."

"Mm-mm." Brian's father returned to sleep.

"The dog hasn't been here even a day," said Brian's mother. "Already I have to ask if you fed him."

"No, thank you," said the dog. "I have already eaten."

"You see?" said Brian. "He talks."

"Don't play throwing your voice when I ask you a serious question," she said. "You say he's a circus dog?"

"That's what he told me," said Brian. "But I think he ran away, because he won't tell me which circus he came from."

"Brian, please," she said. "Just get the dog some decent food tomorrow and let's hope his owner contacts the police soon."

"Ok, Mom, thanks," said Brian.

"Merci, Mademoiselle," said Spot.

"Brian, don't let your Aunt Kelly hear you throw your voice," she said. "She doesn't always know when she's had too much to drink. She makes enough excuses on her own without the talking dog."