The art of the Dog.
It's like that Dr Who episode...
It's after 10pm and I'm snacking on some cold chicken wings behind the kitchen counter. On the other side, the dogs sit up straight, so terribly straight, while staring intensely at me with their laser beam dog eyes.
I look away for a second, exchange words with my dearest. And then something changes.
The dogs have teleported into a new spot, still transfixed in the same pose, but closer to me.
I blink, and it happens again.
And again.
And again. I swear they are moving! I just can't prove it. Somehow, they are getting closer to the food while remaining as still as statues. They're like those flipping weeping angels. I must protect the Tardis (AKA fridge) from them!



