My childhood dog Dakota, was a diabetic, chubby little yellow lab, who was my best friend, prime confidant, and pseudo-therapist. He never quite talked, but my brother gave him this squeakily, high-pitched voice, and we would talk through him. Though, having grown up this way, it was hard for me to communicate my real, gushy feelings without Dakota and his pinkpig nose plushed and listening. I found myself kind of rummaging through any imaginary, playful outlet that could mimic him being there, from writing to animating to little paper puppets. This film for me is Dakota, as I remember him.