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I tried to explain daylight savings time to my dog but he just didn’t seem to get it. He’s a smart dog. I think he was just being obstinate.

He says that moving the clock back an hour doesn’t change anything. His bladder is still ready when it’s ready—not earlier. When I tried to take him out for a walk this morning, he gave me that line again about “let sleeping dogs lie.”

But I have to go to work, I explained. It’s now or when I get home.

He grudgingly accepted by position. But he was vindictive. Peed on my leg.

“Okay, smarty pants,” I said. “What would YOU do?!”

“I’ll show you,” he said with his eyes. Arthur knows I hate it when dogs talk and their lips move. He can be considerate…sometimes.

There was a ripple in time and space. Arthur smiled (he does that) and led me outside.

I’d never seen so many bright red fire hydrants. Each one was drenched with markings from multiple dogs. Arthur sniffed joyously. His bassett hound needs were satisfied. He added his own markings judiciously.

“Nice,” I said diplomatically. “But you’re making me late for work.”

Arthur is a tough negotiator. I offered lots of treats, but he wouldn’t give much ground. I broke first and our agreement was, well at least acceptable.

I put in a doggie door. But now I also stay home and we get up when Arthur wants to get up. I make less working from home but I get to sleep late. And my leg stays dry.