Suddenly the tummy grumbles, just like the worst ribut you can think off.

He comes for a tummy rub, because he believes that will give me luck.

So we go, sit, on the couch sit, tummy rub sit, look, I throw a tennis ball sit, say hello to that other dog.

And I remember this plan, born out of frustration from a kid who kept calling me Yogi, then pointed at my tummy and said, Too many picnic baskets.