Millie, the Irish Setter, was not your average dog. She was as active as a squirrel on caffeine, as alert as a meerkat on sentry duty, and as intelligent as… well, a very intelligent thing. She had a peculiar hobby, one that set her apart from all the other dogs in the neighborhood. Millie, you see, had a knack for helping dinosaurs find food.

Now, I know what you’re thinking. Dinosaurs? Aren’t they extinct? Well, in Millie’s world, they were as alive as the postman she loved to chase every morning. And these dinosaurs, they were always hungry.

Millie’s best friend was a Triceratops named Terry. Terry was a vegetarian, which was fortunate because Millie didn’t fancy the idea of helping him hunt down other dinosaurs. Terry had a problem, though. He was terribly short-sighted and couldn’t tell a fern from a fir tree. This is where Millie came in.

Every day, Millie would lead Terry to the best patches of cycads and ginkgoes, her tail wagging with the joy of a job well done. Terry would munch happily, his gratitude evident in the thumping of his tail. It was a peculiar friendship, but it worked.

One day, Millie met a new dinosaur, a T-Rex named Tina. Now, Tina was a carnivore, and Millie was a bit apprehensive. She wasn’t sure she wanted to help Tina find food, especially if that food happened to be Terry. But Tina was surprisingly polite for a T-Rex and promised not to eat any of Millie’s friends.

So, Millie found herself leading Tina to a herd of hadrosaurs. Tina was thrilled. She hadn’t had a decent meal in days, and the sight of all those hadrosaurs was like a buffet to her. Millie watched from a safe distance as Tina chased down her dinner. It was a bit gruesome, but Millie reminded herself that this was the circle of life. Or the triangle of life. Or some geometric shape of life.

Millie’s dinosaur-helping exploits soon became the talk of the neighborhood. The other dogs were a bit jealous, especially the poodles. They thought they were so fancy with their fancy haircuts and fancy collars. But they couldn’t help dinosaurs find food. No, sir. That was Millie’s specialty.

One day, a group of poodles approached Millie. They wanted to know her secret. How did she do it? How did she help dinosaurs find food? Millie just wagged her tail and gave them a knowing look. She wasn’t about to reveal her secrets to a bunch of poodles.

The poodles huffed and puffed and went back to their fancy houses. Millie just laughed and went back to her dinosaurs. She had a job to do, after all. Terry was waiting for his lunch, and Tina was probably getting hungry again.

So, Millie continued her dinosaur-helping adventures, her tail always wagging, her nose always sniffing out the best food. She was a hero in her own little world, a world where dinosaurs still roamed the earth and a dog could be their best friend.

And as for the poodles, well, they could only watch in envy as Millie trotted off to another dinosaur-feeding adventure. They could have their fancy haircuts and fancy collars. Millie had something much better. She had joy. She had friendship. She had dinosaurs.

And really, what more could a dog ask for?