There is a dog next door that window companies should hire to drum up new business for thicker window installations.
That a junior Nyquil analyst would have to thank for a slight uptick in sales in our half-mile area.
That liquor stores would toast in jubilee were they to know how much its presence correlated to purchases of liquor and aspirin.
There is a dog that corrupts dog lovers, that taints their ears to respond to a bark as it were a slur.
That no bird, rabbit, or squirrel will ever suffer from, as any hunting instinct its bloodline once had has been replaced by an oversized voice box.
That, if values were properly reported, would make each house on our street worth $15,000 less, at least.
That would taunt the zen of a monk toward frenzy, in the name of peace of mind.
There is a dog next door that makes me wish we lived nearer an orchard, and that a rogue tree may accidentally shower down pre-raisins upon our lawn.
Don't even get me started on the owners.
