“Explain something for me: I’m curious: since you’ve decided that you can hop on the bed without asking permission, why do you wait until we’re just a few minutes from getting up? Why not be presumptuous and rude in the middle of the night so that you’d get to spend more time on the bed?”

—Tradition.

“Tradition?”

—Yes, we of the canine persuasion are big on tradition.

“Since when does hopping up on the bed equal tradition?”

—After the first time it happened.

“What?”

—Well, okay, the second time, but the first time prompted the second, so it might as well have been the first.

“You’re not making any sense.”

—Look we dogs are big on routine, we like to know what’s happening and when. Things that happen regularly become traditional, and traditionally, we like to have as many traditions as possible directing our existence. It makes us feel comfortable, safe.

“I see. So, because you were let up on the bed one morning, now that’s the only time you can repeat that?”

—Something like that.

“But shouldn’t part of the tradition be ‘getting permission’ like the first time?”

—I didn’t want to disturb you and I felt we had an understanding.

“Uh huh.”

—It’s a very important tradition, you know, I’m not sure you should be questioning it.

“Right.”

—It keeps you safe, too.

“Yeah, I’ve never felt so secure.”

—See?

“I don’t know, it just seems like you’re taking advantage.”

—Never.

“Oh, so it’s a sacrifice for you to have to get up on the bed every morning?”

—As a fierce but loyal watchdog (Barkmark still pending) I don’t know the meaning of the word sacrifice.

“All in a day’s work?”

—That’s right.