Never admit defeat? Why ever not?

I needed to get to work but first I needed to take Ray for a quick walk around the block.

I grabbed his leash off of the hook where it hangs. Usually the noise of the leash being picked off its hook is enough to get Ray moving, but he knew that today he was going to daycare (he can tell the difference between getting ready for work and getting ready to walk around the lake) and was comfily curled up on his favorite chair.

"C'mon Ray let's go for a walk," I said to my hound.

Ray didn't move although those tell-tale eyebrows were doing the dance showing that he had heard me.

"C'mon Ray, don't you want to go for a walk?" I asked.

Ray pretended not to hear.

"Let's go Ray," I said sternly.

Ray buried his nose further into his tail to show me that he was perfectly fine right where he was, thank-you-very-much.

"Ray, come," I said commandingly.

Ray didn't move a muscle.

I gracefully accepted defeat (for the moment) and sat back down with a cup of coffee.

To paraphrase Malcolm Forbes, "Coffee is sweetest when you've known defeat." (Ok, so he was talking about victory, but coffee works very well in this context).