Roscoe is a canine of routine. He monitors when it’s time for walks, meals, or trips to the yard. He knows when the Hu-Dad should climb into the human bed with a book for reading time, which is Roscoe’s time to snuggle. And, if Hu-Dad finds the book super enjoyable and reads beyond the official lights out time, Roscoe leaves the human bed for his sleeping spot on his own schedule. (Frankie Suave sleeps in the human bed at night and isn’t big on sharing.)

These methodical patterns include his bathroom habits. Roscoe believes certain things should occur at certain times. Morning turnouts are for big business. Other times are strictly for watering plants.

The other night, as we prepared for bed with one last trip to the yard, Roscoe surprised the Hu-Dad with big business. Yes, he knew it wasn’t the morning, but sometimes, well, big business happens. He located the perfect spot, assumed the position, and prepared the stinky missile launch.

This change in routine surprised the Hu-Dad. In fact, the surprise was so great, Hu-Dad uttered a single word of marvel. “Oh.”

Now, Hu-Dad intended that noise to mean nothing more than he was caught off guard by the revamped routine. He didn’t aspire to impede Roscoe’s concentration on important processes. Or, more importantly, Roscoe’s productivity.

Roscoe, however, was as startled by Hu-Dad’s sudden noise as the Hu-Dad was with the change in routine. “Oh” revised everything.

That single word forced a reconsideration of all that had passed—and all that had not yet passed. Roscoe held the all-important position, but the launch was delayed. Instead, he looked toward the Hu-Dad, cocked his head in study, and contemplated his options.

Hu-Dad, wishing to get things back on track, explained at great length the meaning of his utterance, a conversation that probably amused any neighbors fortunate enough to hear the exchange. Roscoe, however, remained unconvinced. He decided the problem wasn’t in the what, but the where. Something about his placement selection must be the issue. That was the only plausible explanation for the sudden “oh.”

With unfinished business to attend, Roscoe commenced searching for a new location for his treasure. He takes great pride in such decisions, as is evidenced by his lengthy sniffing during our walks to locate the exact correct tree most in need of watering. One shouldn’t be hasty about such important matters.

Thus, thanks to Hu-Dad’s single word utterance, Roscoe broke protocol in two ways. Performing a morning duty in the evening. And slightly delaying bed time while proper placement was identified.

Hu-Dad, for his part, maintained silence while these critical matters were executed. He had learned his lesson and kept his editorial expressions to himself so as not to interrupt the canine expressions.

And that, dear friends, is the power of “oh.”