I'm still laughing thinking about one story yesterday.
When man and I got to his mom's house, there were 4 dogs running around - 2 with one sister, 1 with the other sister, and 1 with mom's husband's brother (who was dog-sitting for a friend in jail).
Yeah, of course the story is about the dog whose real owner is in jail. The dog, we were told, was Roy. Four dogs are a constant source of entertainment. Anytime there was a lapse in conversation we were calling a dog over.
When we were eating pie, someone said something to Roy. At this point, man's younger brother says, "If he doesn't answer, it might be because his name probably isn't Roy." Huh? "I just started calling him that today."
"Well," we wanted to know, "what is his name?"
"We're not sure. Uncle forgot."
Hysterical laughter ensued. See, Uncle was out during this conversation. Out indulging in recreational herb use, if you get my drift.
Last I heard, it causes memory loss. Apparently it was working its magic on him. Unfortunately for not-Roy.
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