Button is addicted. The scent of vinyl drives him wild. A squeak excites him to the point of lunacy. He’s a killer whale playing with his prey. He pushes a ball under the furniture just to get us to pull it out. His habit has become ours. The house and garden are littered with obsolete toys. Not a day goes by without a game, or two, or three, or more… until at last he passes out, snoring gently like a cellphone vibrating on silent. His paws twitch as he dreams of tomorrow when it will all begin again.