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.”

Lewis yawns.

—Do tell. I guess you’ll just have to take the issue up with the Canine Union.

“What?”

No answer. He’s already twitching from strange dreams.