My two dogs, Zeus and Bella, follow a strict daily schedule. Each day, we get up and they get a dog biscuit, then go outside to perform morning rituals. About 10:30 a.m., they begin making noises about a car ride -- usually to our local dump. Of course, I don't take trash to the dump every day, but when I do, it is usually around -- you guessed it -- 10:30! Then if I am working in my office and I happen to go past twelve noon or twelve-thirty, they are quick to brush me with their noses to let me know it is lunch time. They usually get a small tidbit as I prepare a sandwich for myself. In the afternoon, between three and three-thirty, I begin hearing some odd grunting sounds, accompanied by more nose-brushing. This is code for "We wanta go out for a walk!" Now they have a perfectly good, generously-sized dog run that they can access at any time. But the air and the smells there, you see, are not nearly so sweet as they are on a walk along our street or up the occasional path. So -- a walk it is, which is good because it gives the "Master" some exercise as well. Finally, at 5:50 p.m. on the dot, my two mongrels make their last request of the day known, which has to do with dinner. No matter what I'm doing, or how deeply I'm involved in my office or in some project around the house, Zeus and Bella expect their bowls to be promptly filled with a doggy culinary delights.