“JJ, I think there’s some sort of opossum in the car.” “Will you put your shoe back on?” I asked exasperatedly. “It’s a dog.” I think. His face screwed up. “Well, whaddya get a damn dog for?” “I couldn’t afford a helper monkey for you.” “You’re my helper monkey,” he informed me. “A little chattier than I bargained for, but beggars can’t be choosers, and all that.”
