Bud: Hear ye, hear ye, minuscule Human! The Council of Canines has convened and I, the Grand Mastiff of the domicile...
Me: Really. Grand Mastiff. You're going with that?
Bud: DON'T INTERRUPT.
Me: Sorry.
Bud: It's Grand Mastiff to you. Rats! I knew I should've worn my ceremonial hounds' tooth.
Me: Get on with it, Grand Mastiff.
Bud: Ahem...yes... Our jackal instincts tell us the rainy season is upon us.
Me: And?
Bud: We are looking for interior bathroom accommodations for the duration.
Me: What about your wolf-like yearnings to roam and be free?
Bud: They tend to be dampened in downpours.
