"It helps that he's well-behaved," Ned says, with considerable affection, "Plus, I'm pretty sure he kind of... knows what would happen if we ever touched. Like he can sense it somehow. Dogs can sense all kinds of things that people can't, so why not that?"

Even if Ginsberg doesn't voice his vague suspicions aloud, Ned guesses that he is tying the various pieces of evidence together, seeing Ned's somewhat strange behavior in regards to physical contact in an entirely different light. Might as well acknowledge it. "What with the way I am... I've learned to be careful, yeah. Of a lot of things, not just Digby."

He smiles, faintly, adds with a touch of humor, "Paranoid would be another word for it. I've gotten by, pretty much, by having a million tiny rules about what I can and can't do. In order to prevent, well, stuff like what happened when we were in the park. That was really unlike me, being reckless and walking on that wall. Even running into that shop without looking inside, first, was pretty daring, according to my standards."