When a squirrel slipped into my house, I did the logical thing: I panicked and called my father.
"How do you get a squirrel out of a basement?" I shrieked.
Dad advised me to leave a trail of peanut butter and crackers from the basement to the outside. It worked—the squirrel ate his way out of the house. Unfortunately, he passed another squirrel eating his way in.
When our client’s dog lapped up anti-freeze, the veterinarian I work for ordered a unique treatment... an IV drip mixing fluids with vodka. “Go buy the cheapest bottle you can find,” he told me.
At the liquor store, I was uneasy buying cheap booze so early in the day, and I felt compelled to explain things to the clerk.
“Believe it or not,” I said, “this is for a sick dog.”
As I was leaving, the next customer plunked down two bottles of muscatel and announced, “These are for my cats.”