My doorman and his wife adopted a new puppy.
Sunny, is her name, and she’s part Beagle, part Lab with a little Pitt tossed in.
Her mother, clearly, was a busy girl.
When I asked how Sunny was doing, Mike said, “Well, okay, but she’s in the doghouse.”
“What did she do?”
“She ate my wife’s slipper.”
“Uh-oh. I guess your wife wasn’t too happy.”
“No, they were brand new.”
“What did she do? Did she yell at her?”
“No, she just gave her the other one.”