In my dream (aka: nightmare), Max is sitting in bed, propped up against the pillows in a very human-like position. He has a breakfast tray across his lap and is being served kippered herring by a tuxedo-clad Richard.
Some claim that it is a sign that we have lost control of the household.
My only point of contention with that theory is that it implies that we had some semblance of control of the household at a point in the past. There is no truth to that postulation.
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