'Granny, Zakky wants some milk!
Tyler called me from the kitchen. I hauled myself up from my armchair and went into the kitchen.
'Sit', said Tyler, copying his grandad and raising his hand in a hand signal.
Zak's bum hit the floor and he looked at Tyler expectantly.
'How do you know he wants milk?'
'Cause he told me.' Tyler jumped up and down. Zak rose from his 'sit' and did the same.
'Dogs can't talk.'
Zak looked at me with huge brown eyes and then deliberately looked at the fridge. He did this twice and then wagged his tail.
'Ooooohh. Granny. They can. They talk to little boys and girls and say Oiiiii, I want some milk.'
'But Zakky doesn't drink milk. He drinks water from his water bowl when he's thirsty.'
'I know that Granny, but he told me he really likes milk.'
'I didn't hear him go woof, woof, woof.'
'He told me in my brain.' (Tyler's still got a thing about his brain - remember the dead fish?)
Zak went over to the fridge and sniffed the door. I gave in.
Now, every time I go in the kitchen, the blasted dog asks me for milk!