The statements about yawning and did you know nobody knows why we do it(?) were loud in his head, but he didn't say it. Clint was great at having internal thoughts he never voiced, especially ones that sounded smart. He was incredibly intelligent, but he liked to play dumb a lot more than he liked to be thought of as smart. Smart people had problems. Dumb people had dogs. See? Dumb people had it better. Way better.
"Sleep is the single most important thing in the history of things," he said, which he hoped sounded dumb and not even slightly intelligent. "I sleep for as many hours a day as I can get away with, which is not as many as it used to be because now I have him."
He pointed to Lucky, who got up and licked his finger, then sat back down and barked at him twice. "Yeah. You." He scratched Lucky's ears. "You have to get up and pee and stuff. I just wanna sleep, buddy. But uh. Going with us, I don't think it'd be that bad, so long as you could obviously protect yourself, which I mean. You probably could. Can you shoot a gun? I don't do guns, but I mean, we have people who do..."