Alfred, my father who steadfastly refuse to be one had bought four sausages, and was frying them when I came in, but papa I said you are a vegetarian, yes he said two are for you and two are for the dog that hangs outside the restaurant where he plays the piano, it needs reassurance and food. Alfred chuckled to himself, and I was not sure if I should feel offended, but let it slide seeing him wrapping the sausages in tin foil, for the dog that doesnβt belong to him.