Tim Dowling: my wife needs to go to bed. According to the dog

The dog used to be dependent on us for everything. But since graduating from dog school the tables have started to turn

It’s a cold winter night, and my wife and I are alone in the house, binge-watching some new series. I was transfixed by episode one, and gripped by episode two, but midway through episode three I have started to look at my phone, and as a consequence I’ve lost track of the plot. I have an idea what’s going on, but it’s not the right idea.

“So hang on,” my wife says. “Was that just the dead guy? Meaning he’s not dead?”