No ownership.
Boredom
She knocks on his door every morning. Partly to tell him that his tea is served. Mostly to tell him that if he goes on another day sitting and smelling like rotting cabbage she'll have him evicted sooner than he could say "Nanny".
One day, she adds, "There must be something you could do with your time."
And as much as he hates to admit it (and make no mistake, he loathes to admit it), she's right. There must be something worth doing in between cases. He's got to occupy his mind somehow.
His gaze, inevitably, falls onto the dog
A/N: Poor Gladstone.
~panini