You know that rhyme about the group in the bed and the little one telling them all to roll over - and they do? If you bother to think about it, this whole situation raises many puzzling questions. Let us cast aside the moral one about what all those people were doing in bed together in the first place and concentrate on the more puzzling one. Why did they all keep doing what the little one said even though after the first time it should have been obvious that someone was going to end up crashing to the ground? I think I have unlocked this mystery. There was a little bitch calling the shots (I can use that word here because it's correct). The one wearing the pants around here has no pants at all. Miss Winkle is the cute little dictator bending humans and canines to her will. Rumple brings his favourite ball and drops it at my feet and then begs (because he asks nicely and doesn't demand) for a game of Hall Ball. Rumple loves me to sit at one end of the hall and repeatedly throw the ball so he can charge along and collect it. Winkle stole the ball and wouldn't give it back. Rumple let her. Cousin The Fed came over for a play date and dinner. Anyone who knows beagles know they have very strong noses and even bigger appetites. Bowls were put down for the three dogs and Winkle gulped the content of hers and then pushed The Fed out of the way and finished his - and he let her. Man, how do the beautiful people have so much power to get what they want? That's a question for all of us, even those without dogs big or small.
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