He strolls up to the bar and orders a drink, where immediately a drunken cowboy starts to berate him for trying to be human.
The talking dog says "Man, you're way too drunk". The cowboy responds by pulling out his pistol and attempting to shoot him in the head, but in his drunken stupor he misses and shoots the dog's foot. The dog runs out the door whimpering.
Three hours later, the bar has reached it's zenith for the night. Blue smoke drifts through the saloon, barely allowing sight of the sillouhette of a piano player in the corner. Brawls break out at overturned tables. Shady men with scars deal blackjack, with men betting their souls as stakes. A bartender with teardrop tattooes, one for every year she's gone he says, sells shots of bourbon to the scum of the road.
In swing the saloon doors, and there stands the talking dog. He's got a black cowboy hat on, black cowboy vest, black cowboy briches, and black cowboy boots with golden spurs.
He reaches to his holster and rests his hand on a silver engraved revolver, scans the room, and says
"I'm looking for the man who shot my paw."
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