Still playing, he grew so excited that all that had been feigned became actual.
This was battle a struggle against the hand that seized and shook him and thrust him away.

The make-believe of ferocity passed out of his growls; the ferocity in them became real.

Also, in the moments when he was shoved away and was springing back to the attack, he yelped in high-pitched puppy hysteria.

And Captain Van Horn, realizing, suddenly, instead of clutching, extended his hand wide open in the peace sign that is as ancient as the human hand.

At the same time his voice rang out the single word, "Jerry!" In it was all the imperativeness of reproof and command and all the solicitous insistence of love.
Jerry knew and was checked back to himself.