When this kind of stuff happens, I think, "Why not get another dog? We should have three dogs. Maybe even four!" Then they get off the couch with a big, long stretch and I hear their toenails scraping against the oak floor, which was laid last summer but now looks like we've had it ten years, and I know that two dogs, four ears, and eight legs are enough.

 

Fern doesn't count as a dog -- and don't let her hear me even think that she might -- but she certainly fits in when it's time for supper: