It begins with pacing around the sofa through the dining room and back to his blanket.  He sits on the blanket and stares.  Yes, stares at me.  Repeat: a lap around the sofa, dining room and back to his blanket.  After several seconds he gets the notion that standing between us and staring might better his chances.  When he gets no response he decides that a paw on the sofa might draw more attention then hot, stinky dog breathe.  Well, it worked.  Stinky dog breathe; yes.  Dog paw on the couch; no way. 

"No, Trace.  Get back on your blanket."

Grunt, moan and grunt.  Dog swear words I'm sure.

"It's not time yet.  Lay down and relax."  As if protesting he responses with a long, painfully pathetic moan as if to say he'll obey, but he's not happy.  I've bought myself some time, but I know it will not last.  

How can a dog tell time?  His internal clock could be used to set the clock on the space shuttle.  What amazes me is his sense of routine or his need for routine.  Maybe a lesson can be learned here: there's nothing wrong with a bedtime snack although I'll pass on the Milkbone and go for some cheese and crackers.