You need the BAG!

He didn't go off in the car this morning. I've noticed he's like that a couple of times a week except when he's sneezing so loudly that even I can hear. She was still in bed. The problem is that he doesn't know the drill. You go out, you come in, you eat, you go out. Some things need attending to with urgency. All things must be done according to regulations.

This morning, under his care, I went out, came in, ate, went out, came in. He was still looking hopeful. Annoyed, possibly. Then she got up. There was an exchange. Now, she may have been in her dressing gown but she knows what to do. Some things are better not said. Non-verbal communication is essential to maintain one's dignity. She went to the door, picked up the new bag, followed me out and bingo! I have to say, though, that they weren't convinced by my look of confusion and excitement. I thought, well, if it's about ratios of outs to ins and eats then I might be in luck. She's looking rather smug.

Incidentally, I had a nice communication in response to yesterday's posting. All the way from Denmark:

Dear Monty. Whilst I must consider myself as a mere pup (I'm a blue roan cocker spaniel of 99) in comparison with your esteemed self, I feel that I have topped your achievement of (re-) learning to bark at 105; I waited until I became as deaf as a door post before re-embarking on the good, old-fashioned bark to ensure maximum attention (and, as you have discovered with your nice, well-trained old lady, they are now much more responsive to my needs).

My fan base is expanding. I've conquered Australasia, Scandinavia. Where next? The world is my bag of biscuits.