When their cat died, my grandmother, who had limited mobility, asked my grandfather to get her a lap dog. He came home with a Rottweiler. It sounds like a punchline but the dog was so large, that even as a puppy he hung over my grandmother’s lap. She loved him and named him Plato because he was so smart. She was generous in her anointment. He ate the contents of our litter box. My grandfather would show off his one “trick” where he would pretend to hit my grandmother with her cane and Plato would half jokingly lunge after my grandfather and bite his arm. Then my grandmother would pretend…