There are four chairs around the table and each has four legs. This means there are sixteen legs under the table plus the legs of the table. When Daisy weaves her way between them, it’s almost impossible to get her out. Daisy, I say, what is the matter? This behaviour must have an underlying cause! Is it something that happened to you as a puppy? Can it be found in the depths of your soul? Is it perhaps ideological? Daisy pokes her head out and tells me that I am looking in the wrong place. You always look underneath, she says, but you should attend to the surface. To the surface of the table? I ask, observing a number of dog treats stacked upon it. To the surface, says Daisy, of life.