A short drinking story.
Several years ago I had a night where I had a few too many drinks. I woke up the next morning and I wasn’t alone. No, I didn’t meet a girl, but there was this really sweet dog asleep on the foot of my bed. I had no idea where he came from. I petitioned everyone I was with the night before and no one remembered seeing me with a dog. This happened right in the middle of the Olympic Games, so I just went with it. I named him Norman and took him out with me to the bars to watch the rest of the games. Sadly, a couple weeks later I found out he belonged to a neighbor down the street. I returned him, but still went back every so often to take him out with me. After a few months his real owner got a job that required moving over seas, so now Norman lives with me and he can’t wait until the next Olympics.