Little Dog: Fancy running into you in a place like this.
Me: You mean the dining room?
Little Dog: Of all the gin joints in all the world, amirite?
Me: It’s too early for your pithy repartee, Little Dog.
Little Dog: So what are we eating?
Little Dog: Breakfast. That’s wild.
Me: You realize I can totally see you.
Little Dog: You can see me what?
Me: I can see you chewing on the table leg.
Little Dog: Am not.
Me: You’re doing it right now.
Little Dog: So I am.
Me: At least have the good manners to look embarrassed that you’ve been caught.
Little Dog: Shame’s not really in my repertoire.
Me: I’ve noticed.