It’s a trait of my breed – always paying attention, always in a position to monitor my Dad. Some examples. When he is taking a shower, I lay on the bath mat. When he is working at his desk, I block the doorway from his office. When he is making the morning coffee, I’ll rustle up some toys to place around the kitchen. But, when my Dad starts doing certain things like picking up the keys, putting on a coat, changing shoes, putting his cell phone in the jacket, I have to engage in some serious politicking. Stare at my Dad, keep getting in the way, pick his gloves up to help him, stand in the way some more, look at my Dad and tilt my head to the right, just a bit (that’s the way I ask questions). I only need that quick whistle to know that I am going with. He opens the door, I step out on the walk and always look back…waiting for the key to turn in the lock…then I am certain of going with. My Dad’s new car is an xB. You know what that is? He was thinking of me when he bought that car. He folded down the rear seats, bought an area rug from Target to cover the flat space. I can stick my head out the left rear window (my Dad puts these little orange things in his ears, don’t ask why) and bark and bark and bark at all of the delivery trucks menacing our path. I know them all – Fedex, UPS, the (hated) mail truck, any white delivery van. I’ve heard my Dad tell people that I can pick out a UPS truck from several blocks away. When the car is in motion, I N-E-V-E-R sleep. Things have to be monitored…does my Dad really know the dangers on the road? My Dad and I drove down to Georgia several years ago. He was amazed I stayed up during the entire drive – how fun!