—Haven’t you forgotten something?

“What?”

—Look what time it is: you haven’t even begun writing down our daily conversations.

“Good heavens! My mind is so befogged with exhaustion and the need to finish this job application . . .”

—Good thing I’m around to provide the necessary reminders.

“Indeed, thank you.”

—So how about a biscuit as a way of compensating me for my . . .

“Wait a minute: this from someone who licked my muffin without permission?

—Um . . . was that your muffin?

“When have you ever had a muffin? Dogs don’t get muffins, unless they’re dropped accidentally.”

—As I recall, the muffin that I . . . allegedly, mind you . . . licked, that muffin was on the floor.

“It was not: it was on the coffee table, right next to the TV remote.”

—It was pretty close to the floor: I mean, if you had been standing up, it would have been closer to the floor than it was to your mouth . . .

“Your defense is weakening by the second: you licked my muffin: admit it.”

—I’d say ownership is determined mostly by possession, and as I recall, the alleged muffin, that I allegedly licked, ended up in my stomach.

“So, that’s your new plan, eh? Lick everything so that it ends up in your alleged stomach?”

—Of course not. It hasn’t been proven that I licked anything in the first place.

“Whatever: no alleged biscuit for you, in any case. And maybe no alleged food for you tomorrow, either.”

—Now, now let’s not do anything one might regret.

“One—meaning you?”

—Allegedly.