Roof!

Greetings to all!  It's me, Maggie.  Our neighbors are getting a new roof, so about every hour yesterday, I told Mom I needed to go outside to use the yard.  Once out there, I did this:

"Ooh, look!  Roofers!"

I love watching people work! Isn't that why we're called "Working Breed" dogs?  I could be onto something here.

Anyway, that reminded me of an old joke. I'm not sure, but from what I've heard about my great-sister Amber, it was probably one of hers. So this joke goes something like this:

A guy walks into a bar with a small dog under his arm and sits down at the counter. He puts the dog on the stool next to him. The bartender says, "Sorry, pal. No dogs allowed."

The man says, "But this is a special dog -- he talks!"

"Yeah, right," says the bartender. "Now get out of here before I throw you out."

"No, wait," says the man. "I'll prove it." 

He turns to the dog and asks, "What do you normally find on top of a house?"

"Roof!" says the dog, wagging his tail.

"Listen, pal..." says the bartender.

"Wait," says the man, "I'll ask another question." 

He turns to the dog again and asks, "What's the opposite of soft?"

"Ruff!" exclaims the dog.

"Quit wasting my time and get out of here," says the bartender.

"One more chance," pleads the man. 

Turning to the dog again, he asks, "Who was the greatest baseball player that ever lived?"

"Ruth!" barked the dog.

"Okay, that's it!" says the bartender, and physically throws both man and dog out the door and onto the street.

The dog looks at the man, shrugs and says, "Maybe I should have said Joe DiMaggio?"

"DiMaggio!"  Ha roo roo roo!  No jokes like the old jokes!

OK, the roofers are still here today.  I need to convince Mom I need to go outside.  Have a great one, everybody!

Yours sincerely,
Margaret Thatcher