I was in the doghouse over a dog we once had. His name was Charlie and he was a stray who had been abused. If you raised your voice he flattened out on the floor. Anyway, we're getting ready for Sunday dinner and Charlie walks by the dinner table and, without missing a beat, turns his head as he walks by the table and grabs a dinner roll. It was so smooth I wish I had filmed it. So I chase him into the family room and start yelling at him. He jumps up on the couch and starts growling at me. Suddenly, my wife and both kids start yelling at me saying the dog is having flashbacks, etc. I spent the rest of the night watching tv alone in the living room. Lesson? I now know my place, right below the fish in the aquarium.