It doesn’t seem silly to him that Meghan tells him things, as if he should have an opinion. Most times, he has no idea what she’s talking about; he just enjoys the atmosphere of a happy, if one-sided, conversation. He utters little woofs, a yip or two, just to keep her going. This time, he recognizes the Rosie word and knows that something has made Meghan laugh. That’s good. Because in the next minute, she holds the phone in her lap and sighs. The presence of inner trouble that rises to the surface in ways only perceptible to a perceptive dog has arrived.