“Pssst, Henry, don’t look now, but guess what?”

“What?”

“She’s got freeze-dried beef liver treats in her bag today. That means pure liver, nothing else.”

“Oh boy, Aussie, what a walk this is going to be!”

“So, this is what we’re going to do, Henry. We take turns, see? Every three minutes one of us hangs back and gives her the I’m-starving pleading look.”

“I know how to do that, Aussie, chihuahuas have the biggest eyes. I’ll get those liver treats, I promise.”

“No, no, Henry, this is not about liver. It’s about training. We have to train our human.”

“It’s not about liver?”

“Liver is just a pretext, Henry, it’s not that important.”

“What’s more important than liver, Aussie?”

“Training is more important than liver, Henry, and humans must be trained. So, we take turns walking back and giving her the look. At first, she’ll say, ‘No, no, we’re walking now.’ So you take a few steps forward, then I go back. And she’ll say ‘No, no, let’s walk,’ and I move forward while you go back, see?”

“Not really. When do I walk, Aussie?”

“Training is more important than walking.”

“When do I start racing after chipmunks? When do I smell Priscilla’s Poodle pee under the forsythia?”

“Henry, training is way more important than those things. If we don’t train Eve, she’ll get herself into trouble. So you come back with The Look, move forward, then I come back with The Look, and finally she’ll give us liver treats. And we keep on coming back, see?”

“But I want to walk, Aussie.”

“These things take patience and practice, Henry, so you have to sacrifice. We have way more patience than humans. Pretty soon she’ll get disgusted and find it’s much easier to constantly give us the liver treats.”

“We win!”

“It’s not about winning, Henry, it’s always, always about training. It doesn’t matter who gets the liver, what matters is that the human gets trained. Same thing with the sofa.”

“What sofa, Aussie?”

“When I first arrived at the house, I right away jumped on the living room sofa. Eve said to get off and I got off. Next day I jumped on the sofa again. Eve said to get off and I got off. Next day I jumped on the sofa again-“

“How long did it take till she stopped telling you to get off?”

“About two weeks. Did I like to go up and down and up and down day after day? Of course not, but now the sofa’s mine. You see, Henry, she thinks she has power, but inside she knows she’s a wimp. Whereas each time we win, we develop our power and our confidence. In the end, we control the day, Henry.”

“We do?”

“Just look at our day, Henry, it’s one big treat. We have breakfast, then our morning walk with lots of treats, come back to the car safely, treats, go to the bank, bank treats—”

“Those aren’t so good, Aussie.”

“We got to train her to change banks, Henry. Come back, more treats, take a little nap, walk, more treats, then dinner. Isn’t that the best? But it takes training. After all, Henry, humans live in our world and we can’t expect them to figure things out. For one thing, they can’t communicate.”

“Because they don’t have a tail, Aussie?”

“Precisely. They don’t understand each other, never mind us. This could result in danger, Henry. Humans could get hurt.”

“Don’t they know about porcupines?”

“It’s up to us to watch out for their safety and security. It’s up to us to take care of them. And how do we do that, Henry?”

“Training!”

“Pssst, Henry, don’t look now, but guess what?”

“What?”

“She’s got freeze-dried beef liver treats in her bag today. That means pure liver.”

“Oh boy, Aussie, what a walk this is going to be!”

“So this is what we’re going to do, Henry. We take turns, see? Every three minutes one of us hangs back and gives her the I’m-starving pleading look.”

“I know how to do that, Aussie, chihuahuas have the biggest eyes. I’ll get those liver treats, I promise.”

“No, no, Henry, this is not about liver. It’s about training. We have to train our human.”

“It’s not about liver?”

“Liver is just a pretext, Henry, it’s not that important.”

“What’s more important than liver, Aussie?”

“Training is more important than liver, Henry, and humans must be trained. So we take turns walking back and giving her The Look. At first, she’ll say, ‘No, no, we’re walking now.’ So you take a few steps forward, then I go back. And she’ll say ‘No, no, let’s walk,’ and I move forward while you go back, and we do that over and over again, see?”

“When do I walk, Aussie?”

“Training is more important than walking.”

“When do I start racing after chipmunks? When do I smell Priscilla’s Poodle pee under the forsythia?”

“Henry, training is way more important than those things. If we don’t train Eve, she’ll get herself into trouble. So you come back with The Look, move forward, then I come back with The Look, and finally she’ll give us liver treats. And we keep on coming back, see?”

“But I want to walk, Aussie.”

“These things take patience and practice, Henry. We have way more patience than humans. Pretty soon she’ll get disgusted and find it’s much easier to constantly give us the liver treats.”

“And we win!”

“It’s not about winning, Henry, it’s always, always about training. It doesn’t matter who gets the liver, what matters is that the human gets trained. Same thing with the sofa.”

“The sofa?”

“When I first arrived at the house, I right away jumped on the living room sofa. Eve said to get off and I got off. Next day I jumped on the sofa again. Eve said to get off and I got off. Next day I jumped on the sofa again–“

“How long did it take till she stopped telling you to get off?”

“About two weeks. Did I like to go up and down and up and down day after day? Of course not, but now the sofa’s mine. You see, Henry, she thinks she has power, but inside she knows she’s a wimp. Whereas each time we win, we develop our power and our confidence. In the end, we control the day, Henry.”

“We do?”

“Just look at our day, Henry, it’s one big treat. We have breakfast, then our morning walk with lots of treats, come back to the car safely, treats, go to the bank, bank treats—”

“Those aren’t so good, Aussie.”

“We got to train her to change banks, Henry. Come back, more treats, take a little nap, walk, more treats, then dinner. Isn’t that the best? But it takes training. After all, Henry, humans live in our world and we can’t expect them to figure things out. For one thing, they can’t communicate.”

“Because they don’t have a tail, Aussie?”

“Precisely. They don’t understand each other, never mind us. This could result in danger, Henry. Humans could get hurt.”

“Don’t they know about porcupines?”

“It’s up to us to watch out for their safety and security. It’s up to us to take care of them. And how do we do that, Henry?”

“Training!”