At least in our home.
"Steve, why is the front door open? It's only 47°F out!"
"I think that they might have to go do their business," answers my Aspergian Husband of many years.
"But Sweetie, there's a dog door in the basement for them to use," I respond, as a cold breeze flails the curtains of the livingroom.
"They might have to go too badly to run all the way downstairs. I don't want them to have an accident in the house," rings a slightly irratated voice from within the depths of our home.
"When is the last time they had an accident in the house?"
I stand near our front door and wait for an answer.
And I wait.
I look at my phone. It's been five minutes since The Hubster's last response. I walk towards the kitchen where I believe Steve's voice had been coming from with a strong north wind buffeting me along the hallway.
I check our bedroom and bathroom.
I run down stairs. No Hubby, no dogs, but the dog door is indeed open and it's access flap is ready and waiting for canine egress and ingress.
I run upstairs, calling for my spouse. I try to keep a neutral tone and refrain from puffing. Those stairs must be steeper than they were last year. Hmmm.
Back in the main entryway with no spouse or canines in sight, I shut the front door and head off to do the never ending laundry.
"WHY IS THE DOOR SHUT?" comes a furious bellow followed by a crash as the freshly closed door now swings wide open and smacks against the shoe rack behind it.
"Sweetie, the dogs aren't even in the house!" I proclaim. "They are already outside, as were you!"
"Well they might come in and have to go out quickly!" protests Steve. "Why do we ALWAYS have to do EVERYTHING your way?"
Just wait until next week when I have to go buy another ton of pellets for our pellet stoves that heat our house. Then someone will be screaming bloody murder because we went through the current ton too quickly.
It really is a dog's life, lol.