Alright, 3 months...

...is a long enough time. Time to resurrect this dead puppy. And who doesn't like puppies, especially dead puppies come back to life, zombie puppies? Puppies that not only do that cute, puppy-patented tilt of the head, as if to say "My word! What in blazes is that?", that we, puppy-lovers, go bat-guano gaga over like dribbling idiots. But puppies that spin their tiny, decomposed heads 360 degrees until they snap off, tumble onto the floor, and meet your feet with their rotten yet surprisingly still sharp fangs before you even have a chance to run away and thus save your humanity.

But because you were bitten by the self-beheaded zombie puppy, you then become a zombie yourself, slowly but surely. That's just the rules, however illogical or unfair it may seem to you. So when you finally become a zombie, then, naturally, you no longer fear the ravenous puppy-head, but rather you identify with it, and thus recognize it as a part of your own undead world. You now do what you can to help out your fellow creature, for the both of you are now zombie comrades, and the both of you know this, though, naturally, neither of you cannot express this except through grunting exchanges. But the grunts involved are not the grunts we the non-undead are most familiar with, which sound caustic and thus may communicate aggression, irritability, or ill-will, as in "Eeerrrrggghhh!!!" Instead, the zombie-to-zombie grunts are, relatively, gentle, and therefore zombie codes for mutual understanding, as in "Eerrgghh" or "Urrgh" or the more simple but effectively empathetic sounding "Uuhh."

In your now brittle hands, you take the zombie puppy head, which is no longer snapping its fangs at you but is instead doing that puppy-patented headtilt I was telling you about earlier, as if to say, "My, you're so kind to me," which, in zombie-speak, should translate into "Urgh, ugh errgggh err ugh eghh." You then try to attach it back to its body, which before was limping about, knocking itself into walls and furniture, leaving corpse dust everywhere, which you normally would have been angry about, given how messy and extremely unsanitary this is, especially to a room where you work to entertain family and guests, but because now you are a zombie, not only do you not care anymore, but you haven't the slightest inkling of anything that doesn't involve either your fellow undead or live human flesh to sustain yourself with. You're no longer of the material world, far away are you from the overwhelming marathon of material possessions and desires that have once crowded you, and buried your humanity under its endless feet like so many marching boots. You are now strictly within, and thus wholly unifed with, zombie nature...