When not teaching Paradise Lost to apathetic (and generally unappreciative) undergrads, Prof. Milton enjoys a brisk walk, perhaps a scamper up a tree from which to survey the world. Here we see him poised in regal splendor atop a gnarled cedar tree.

However, Prof. Milton has also acquired a wholly inappropriate and rather disgusting personal habit. It all started innocently enough. Like all dogs, Prof. Milton enjoys a good sniff. There's nothing like a wet snout plowing through the grass, the hedges, all about the fire hydrants.

But when his daily walks are somewhat neglected, Prof. Milton goes a tad batty. He has begun to sniff, rummage, sort and paw through the trash. Knowing, of course, that such behavior is frowned upon in polite circles, he has resorted to hiding his rancid treasures in his doggy-run area. James is often the unwitting discoverer of these rotting caches.

In addition, Prof. Milton has exhibited his distaste for our absences by chewing to pieces Jude's booster seat. The upside is that he has quit chewing the kitchen-table chairs.

Despite holding several prestigious degrees in literature, Prof. Milton seems unable to communicate his needs to those who love him most. Perhaps it's just his being male. But then again, he's been fixed--which begs the question: are eunuchs usually so tight-lipped?

Ah, well. I suspect that he so dearly loves his walks that when he does not receive them, he retaliates with actions and not words. And the best way to break a bad habit? Replace it with a good one. Tomorrow, Prof. Milton, you shall have your walk.