It was 1999 or 2000, right around the time the lovely ballad “Who Let the Dogs Out” was gracing the airwaves. I was in my room, home on a break from college, talking to Ian on the phone. We had an intercom in our old house, one that my parents used mostly to spy on me because they were convinced I was constantly Up to Something.
My father, via intercom: “Hey, are you talking to Ian?”
Me: “Yes, I am.”
Dad: “Tell him I have something important I need to tell him.”
Me: “(Sigh) My father has something important he needs to tell you. What did you need to tell him, Dad?”
Dad: “Tell him, I LET THE DOGS OUT.”
Me: “That’s great, Dad. Can I go back to my conversation now?”
Dad: “Okay.”
Cat Hair Tumbleweeds 