Sometimes, these conversations are utterly hilarious. Like the other day, when my fiance was going upstairs after having eaten breakfast. Partway through his ascent he stopped and turned. "Elka, did you drool in my pocket?" he asked in a scandalized tone.
Elka did not look up at him, but went and got a toy that she shoved in my hand, so that we would play tug, as if to say "No! I'm playing!"
Now, I don't know how she drooled in his pocket. Or even why, really; Elka is not really a drooly dog. I didn't verify the drool volume, so I'm not sure how much of an exaggeration the phrase "pocket full of spit" really is. But really, it was funny because it wasn't me.
Another one: "Elka, did you put footprints on the new couch?"
Yup! (it's just dusty, it brushed away after I took this picture for posterity).
"No, it was...uh...I'm tired."
Of course, we're not actually into "dog shaming" in this house, and really, some drool and some footprints? We do have a dog, after all. It's hard to remember sometimes, but Elka is a dog.