Matt got up this morning and came back to the bedroom after a few minutes. "Where's Pete?" he asked.
"What do you mean, where's Pete?"
"I mean, where's Pete?"
He wasn't on the couch. He wasn't in the computer room or dining room. I went to the back door and opened it, and Petey was standing on the back porch.
"Oh, honey! Come inside!" He charged up the steps and fixed me with a baleful eye. And rightfully so. I'd let him and Willy outside at some point late last night, let the one in when he scratched at the door, and then between one thing and another had forgotten Pete was still out there. And then I went to bed without my normal detour through the dining room to wish them a good night.
Willy was particularly underfoot before I went to bed, and now I'm wondering if he was like, "Hey, lady. LADY. There is no Pete here. Get Pete. Pete Pete Pete," and there I was thinking Jesus, dog, back off already.