[Editor’s Note: Lewis learns that the Editor and She With Whom He Abides are celebrating their second anniversary.]

—And I guess it’s our 14th year anniversary in dog years, which mean 14 celebratory biscuits.

“We’ve talked about this before, remember? The 1 human year = 7 dog years calculation is inaccurate.”

—What do you mean?

“You’ve forgotten?”

—Maybe. Remind me just in case.

“All right, but only because you look so pathetic right now. So, actually, it’s more like 15 years for your first year, 8 or so for the second, and then 3 ½ for every subsequent year, or something like that.”

—So that means I get 23 biscuits?

“No one said anything about you getting any biscuits.”

—I did.

“Besides you, and no, that doesn’t mean you get 23: the first two years reflect how fast a puppy becomes an adult: you were already an adult when I first met you, so the two years I’ve known you equal 7 years, at the most.”

—I’ll take 7 biscuits, then.

“You might get one, if you’re lucky.”

—Not very sentimental are you? But okay, I’ll take one biscuit.

“You probably should do something about that one-track mind of yours: there’s more to life than biscuits.”

—True. What do you have in the refrigerator?