Mary and I were exhausted when we got home, for various reasons. She had been at the lake for two days; I had been awake and moving meaningfully earlier than usual. (I do not do lakes anymore, really. And the lakes seem better off for my absence anyhow.)
Around 3:30 we both fell asleep in the living room (the living room looked more like the dead zone). She was comfortable on the sofa; I was somewhat uncomfortable in the big dad chair since I hadn't planned on falling asleep. My faithful dog Simon was sound asleep beside me. And so the afternoon passed into the late afternoon, when I slowly became aware of a tiny whine being repeated at ever louder decibels, and I heard the telltale bounce, bounce, bounce. I readjusted my neck and looked up at the clock. It was exactly 5:30. Schuster, as well as his brothers and sister, gets fed at 5:30 every day usually. It was exactly 5:30, and there he was, bounce, bounce, Feed Me!
I staggered to my feet, went to the kitchen, got out the four bowls, and fed him/them. How did he know it was time? That, I'm afraid, will remain one of the great mysteries of western civilization. To the minute he knew it was time for his supper. The other three slept on. Only Schuster seemed to know. I'm beginning to think he's a house elf, or something other than just a hungry dachshund. A little bit scary.