Somehow Lewis is back inside the house even though I don’t remember letting him in.
Or maybe I did, and it’s become such a common an activity, I don’t remember it. Almost like an automatic, unconscious motor function.
Lewis won’t tell me one way or the other.
—It would interfere with my sleeping schedule.
“It’s a simple question. Your excuse for why you wouldn’t answer took longer than an actual answer would have.”
—Do tell. I guess you’ll just have to take the issue up with the Canine Union.
No answer. He’s already twitching from strange dreams.