Recetlly having joined the ranks of dog-owners and dog-lovers, I have gradually become aware that the world is actually going to the dogs--it is awash in puppies, teeming with canines. They drag their bipeds out onto the streets morning and night. I have no idea how numerous they are, but if my own Darlin' Maggie Dogg is any example they must produce a billion pounds of turd material a day. That's enough to build a whole Turd World country! The dogs of the world, also, are telepathically linked in an international network of quadrupedal communications. The Dog Matrix. It's faster than the Internet and more complex than the DM V. A dog can be entirely bemused walking down the street, chatting with his person, and all of a sudden he gets a flash message from the canine network. Bam! His tail goes out, his ears perk, his nose quivers, and he is all attention. Once he has processed the dog-e-message, he sends his ACK and suddenly relaxes, resuming the conversation with the biped as though nothing had occurred.

But I know, and now you do, too. This international conspiracy of sniffers on four legs is alert, and it operates twenty-four hours a day. We may consider ourselves lucky that this massive organization considers our kind an ally, and is willing to overlook our past brutality and ongoing blundering stupidity in exchange for the occasional loan of an opposable thumb.