When I left my house on my way to lunch at Benjamin’s, I bumped into Zdravko Košutić, one of my next-door neighbors, who was on his way back to his house together with his dog. As usual, the dog rushed toward me at once and wagged its tail with unbridled enthusiasm. “The dog obviously loves you,” chuckled Zdravko. “He sees something in you I cannot quite see myself,” he added after a brief pause and chuckled again. “Chances are the dog ain’t normal,” I chuckled in turn, patted the dog on the head, and waved them both goodbye. My neighbor must understand me perfectly well. He is a psychiatrist, after all.