Last night, at the gala premiere of Wild Blue (more on that later), I received a phone call from Stephanie, the woman who is Goblinsitting my dog. She spent ten minutes telling me how great everything was going, and how lovable Goblin is, and when I thought the conversation was going to end so I could get back to the party, she said in a different sort of voice, “Uh, I do have one question.”

“Yes?”

“Um, whenever we come in from her walks . . . well, is there some reason why she jumps into the bathtub and won’t come out?”

There is a reason.