“You’re going out earlier today, my dear Lewis.”

—What?

“Yeah, in about 10 minutes.”

—Come on, it’s cold out there.

“I know, but I’m taking a long trip out to the valley and I need you to guard the back yard. Oh, and watch out for the holes.”

—How come you guys get to dig holes, but I get in trouble if I dig holes?

“Because our holes have a purpose, yours are simply destructive and pointless.”

—My holes have a point.

“And that point is?”

—It’s classified.

“Classified?”

—Top secret dog intelligence.

“Playing with oxymorons again?”

—Ha, ha. But just trust me, there are some things it would be better that you did not know.

“And one of those things is why you dig holes?”

—Yes.

“I find that hard to believe.”

—You wouldn’t by any chance be a cat sympathizer, would you?

“And what if I were?”

—Even more reason not to explain my hole-digging. We have to be careful in these dangerous times.

“You’re beginning to sound like the Bush White House: be afraid, be very afraid.”

—If only . . . if only . . . the terror I have to deal with. . . . Let’s just say, again, you don’t want to know.

“All the more reason, then, for you to go outside.”

—Wait, no, that’s not what I meant . . .