It’s been bothering me for a while so I decide to just come out with it. Daisy, I say, why don’t you laugh? Daisy eyes me seriously. Look, I say, I’m going to tell you a story about a chicken. So I tell her a story about a chicken. Nothing. Not even a giggle. I attempt a knock-knock joke – risky, because I know Daisy isn’t keen on people at doors. No response. If anything, her look becomes more intense, more serious. Exhausted, I slump down next to her. There is not a knock-knock joke for Daisy in the world. After a while, she nudges me on the arm. What is it that you want me to do? she asks. I demonstrate a chortle, a giggle; I try out a belly laugh. Daisy nods wisely. They are the sounds of defeat, she says, and I am not going to make them.