Lately, I’ve been talking a lot to inanimate objects such as sticks, fridge doors, car keys and shoes — that sort of thing.

You won’t be surprised to hear that my inbox has been flooded this week from my four-legged friends, terrified about being eaten by a Haitian immigrant... or any homo sapien. Take this email from Louis, a German short-haired pointer of my acquaintance:

I am totally confused and don’t know which ward I am in.