I'd Like to Make it a True Daily Double, Alex

Every evening, after dinner, after I've fed the dogs, after I've cleaned up the kitchen and done the dishes, our dogs go batshit crazy. It starts with Bette running around with one of her squeaky toys in her mouth while Chandler takes it easy lounging about. After a while Bette tires of the squeaky toy and starts nipping at Chandlers feet, then his jowls if the feet don't elicit any response. Before long she has lured Chandler into her crazed pit of dog fun that we call the living room. For nearly thirty minutes every evening it is a maelstrom of flying fur, flashing teeth, and loud, threatening growls. For a long time I've tried to figure out what it is that sets them off. Is there crack cocaine in the dog food? Is Bette out of her mind? Well yes, often she is, but that doesn't explain the fact that they go crazy every night at the same time, for the same amount of time. That for almost exactly thirty minutes the prevailing sound in our house is that of two wolves attacking each other. And then it hit me, the obvious reason both dogs go absolutely bonkers. They're responding to Mark and me. Each and every night of the week, at seven thirty in the evening, we watch Jeopardy, and during Jeopardy Mark and I shout out the answers. Often we try to out shout each other, I in my manly man voice, and Mark in his. It's very exciting... to a dog.