Sorry about the dirty door.

Sometimes, the Germans get all anxious to go outside, so I let them out. When I look outside a minute later, they’re somewhere in the yard, close to each other, just lounging around, like hey, thank you for facilitating this urgent meeting . . . this relaxing in the yard stuff is serious business.

Coltrane, in true curmudgeon fashion, does his own thing and cares not for the leisure pursuits of other dogs. Earlier this evening, Peaches was trying to play with him. She was running around the yard having the dog crazies — you know how dogs get when they’re playing, where they’re all run run run run freeze run run play bow run run run freeze. That’s one of my favorite things in the world. (One of my other favorite things in the world, also dog-related, is when a dog rests his or her chin on you.) Coltrane just stood there and barked and wanted to go inside and watch his stories or do whatever it is really old people do.