"Oh, Now This Is Just Great," He Says

"Hey, hon!" I called. "Look what followed me home."

My wife came out of the kitchen while I shook the werewolf off my ankle where it had been gnawing on my Nikes. Try walking home from work with a three-hundred pound lycanthrope fixated on your feet.

"Oh, dear," my wife said. "You're not going to keep it are you?"

"Of course not! You think I want some infectious critter in my house. One nibble and we'll end up baying at the moon ourselves. I'm dragging it off to the pound. Anyway, I don't think it's fixed and I'm not going through that again." I shuddered at the memory of the unspayed and very pregnant unicorn that once followed me home. Bloody things multiply worse than rabbits. At least there's a market for free unicorns, but werewolves? I mean, they're cute when they're little ...

"Oh, no!" my wife protested. "Not the pound. I'll just give it a quick flea bath and feed it and maybe we can find somebody who wants a wolfman."

Well, that was three months ago and it wasn't a wolfman.

Anybody want to adopt some little werewolves? They're really cute.