Wayne and I are dog lovers.  Before Bogie we had Peterkins.  I picked Peterkins out of the litter;  I house trained him; I took him to the vet ;  I fed him . . . and he was Wayne’s dog.  He followed Wayne everywhere.  He loved Wayne and sort of put up with me. 

Bogie is a different story.  He’s my dog.  He sits at my feet while I write and follows me from one room to the next.  But until today I didn’t realize how much he takes after me.  This morning Bogie went outside to do his business, and I discovered my dog is dyslexic, just like me.  I have a dyslexic dog!  Instead of lifting his hind leg, he lifted his front paw.  Yup, Bogie is my dog.