“Why does my puppy’s breath smell like a humidor?”
Gasping: “My cigar!”
“Your cigar?”
“I was smoking a cigar outside and tucked the unfinished part in the windowsill.”
“The puppy-level windowsill?”
“Yeah.”
“Didn’t think that one out, did you?”
*Believe it or not, this was Caleb, NOT Troubadour.
