Shaggy dog falls in love with chicken.

Chicken gets drunk and falls into bed with shaggy dog.

Shaggy dog takes this to mean that chicken has loved shaggy dog from the start, and discounts all previous evidence to the contrary.

Chicken realizes she has gotten herself into something here, but figures that she should see where it goes, that this is acceptable for now, even that this might be what she has wanted for some time. A lie, of course, a horrid one.

Shaggy dog, who would fail to understand chicken under ideal conditions, is now so thoroughly in the dark that he has no hope of ever emerging from it. Decides he is happy. Ignores (or is ignorant of) all negative signals, atmospheric hints, forewarnings of doom.

Chicken is now so deep in this thing that, during the 75 per cent of the time when she wants out, she is incapable of action because it could ruin her sense of self-as-good-chicken. Allows herself a grace period in which to strike upon a blameless exit route. Another lie, of course, and again a horrid one. The thing gets worse. During that other 25 per cent of the time, she pretends she is happy, so convincingly she almost feels it. The thing gets still worse.

Shaggy dog remains blissful. Most of him. One part is terrified--a mental part, which tries to tell the rest of him. Unfortunately, this part has been named "Silly Doubt" by its peers,so when it runs around the streets spreading the news, those happy, cynical urbanites of shaggy dog's mind scoff and smile. "Oh that Silly Doubt," they mock. "By name, by nature!"

Chicken finds herself telling the truth whenever she talks to her friends, and telling lies whenever she talks to shaggy dog. This also works within her: she thinks truths when with friends, and falsehoods when alone with shaggy dog. This raises interesting questions about the nature of herself and of truth, questions that she explores during this grace period she allowed herself a while back, the period in which she will make certain what she wants. The answers to these questions will be of use in later conversations. She even imagines that she is explaining it all to shaggy dog, who understands perfectly.

Shaggy dog passes on the town joke about Silly Doubt to chicken. Ha, ha! jokes shaggy dog. Everybody laughs at Silly Doubt! This turns into a serious conversation, however, in which chicken changes Silly Doubt's name to Sensible Doubt, and shaggy dog starts listening closely. Chicken explains the causal topics of her recent cogitations: the nature of herself and of truth. Shaggy dog looks appalled--he does not understand at all!--so chicken reinterprets her theories on the fly. (She is good at this; it's why she never needs to redraft her essays. Often she doesn't even leave the introduction until last. She's brilliant!)

Chicken thinks she got through that conversation pretty well. She did not say everything she could have said, but sometimes less is more. Less is more! she repeats to herself, now that she and shaggy dog are happy together once more. Less is more! Left is right! She tries explaining this to her friends, who don't understand her theories either. She takes this useful input, combines it with shaggy dog's useful input, and makes a whole new theory that accommodates them all. She is brilliant! The new theory requires that she divide herself into parts, like Gaul.

Shaggy dog finds himself listening to chicken's new theory. He consults Sensible Doubt, his new chief advisor. Parts of chicken are happy, chicken explains, but parts are not. Shaggy dog tells Sensible Doubt to put a sock in it, and agrees that this is quite normal, particularly in matters of love. That is another thing, chicken continues, because parts of me are in love, but parts are not. Parts are telling me to get the heck out of here! What's a chicken doing with a shaggy dog? ask those parts. That's just twisted, those parts are saying.

I have parts too, says shaggy dog. Sensible Doubt is a part.

Yes, in that sense we are the same, admits chicken.

And they stay together a little longer.

Tom Howell is in Toronto. Making sense.