The dog is waiting for commands from his master. His name is Fido, of course. He belongs to my granddaughter. She’s in Boston, in graduate school. I don’t detect any sounds. Fido’s thinking “what do we do next?” He’ll probably go for a walk with his mistress. It’s cold. Fido is wearing a cape; it’s so cold there. It looks like terry cloth. He’s eating dog biscuits. I really don’t know what they taste like. Fido is a schnauzer. He doesn’t have a family, he’s a bachelor. My granddaughter loves him. How can I tell? Oh, you can tell if someone loves a dog. Is there anyone around? Around where? Her husband always walks with her and the dog. Before this moment he probably barked and needed to go out. Well, they’ll take him for a walk. They enjoy it.