My daughter gave me a dog for Christmas.
I love dogs. She has a shepherd-lab cross that we rescued from the shelter a number of years ago.
So she gave me a dog. He looks like this:
His name is Slinky. From Toy Story.
So here he is in my office.
Our building has a “no pets” policy. So I went to the concierge, looking downcast, and explained apologetically that my daughter gave me a dog for Christmas, and I was really sorry, but I couldn’t leave him home alone all day so he was in my office, and he was really small, and wouldn’t cause much trouble, and well, “Can I keep him?”
I invited her to come to my office to see him.
As I opened the door I said, “Slinky, what did I tell you about climbing on the furniture?”
And the concierge hit me.
That was fun.