It is 4 pm, the witching hour. If I make any move whatsover away from the spot where I am now working, the dogs will conclude that dinner is upon us, and set to making a ruckus. If I deny them, they will be inconsolable, preventing further work. So I must stay pinned to this spot, making as few movements as possible, not daring to even look at the door, until the appointed time ... We thought we domesticated predators and trained them to help us. Instead, we have trained ourselves to act like prey.
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