Our dog Kate was a healthy 150-pound St. Bernard, large by any measure. Like all dogs with over-sized cheeks, she drooled – long, stringy spit Dad called “zingers” because when she shook her massive head they would let loose, fly, and stick to anything within 12 feet: a cupboard door, the TV screen, an unsuspecting visitor’s pant leg.

Recently I have discovered upon waking up there is often a slick of cold saliva on my pillow. Thanks to age and gravity, like Katie the St. Bernard, I now have over-sized cheeks, or – as the plastic surgeon calls them – dewlaps.