Toby the Puppy is playing us like a fiddle.

Here’s the latest tune: He’s going voluntarily into his kennel. He’s making us think he’s actually OK with spending time in there.

I’m not taking the bait.

Why not? Because he has this particular expression he gives us when he knows it’s time to go inside the kennel. It involves the time his mother and I have to leave the house and we cannot take him with us.

Dog owners know the look. I think it’s a sort of universal canine countenance.

He starts by lowering his ears. Then he licks his chops ever so subtly. He then gets a sort of sad look in his eyes, as if he’s saying, “Please, Dad, don’t put me in there. I know you’ll be back, but pl-e-e-e-e-a-se don’t put me inside that thing over there in the corner of the room.”

Well, the past few days has brought this new phenomenon.

He goes into the kennel all by himself.

My wife had left the house to run an errand the other day. I had to leave for an appointment. I looked for the puppy. I couldn’t find him. I had a mild panic attack, thinking for an instant he might have gotten outside the gate. Finally, I peeked into his kennel. There he was.

I closed the door on him, peered inside and got “the look.”

I won’t be fooled by this pooch, who I insist is just about as smart as Lassie or Rin Tin Tin.

He’s already learning how to spell certain words. We speak to him in complete sentences and he understands every word.

Now he’s seeking to fool us into thinking the kennel is really and truly an all-right-place to be.

I know better.

It’s that look that gets me every time.