Okay, I tried to resist, but attached
is my child, Zoey. She looks so placid, but she's lying in wait
for somebody in a uniform. Next time you see a FedEx ad about
how they deliver anywhere, look for the asterisked exception.
That's my address. Actually, it's the house that Zoey permits
me to share with her. The day she adopted me (late in 1999), she
began protecting the house. Within a week, she took over the block.
She is now responsible for the zip code. But aside from well-wrapped
gifts (which she feels are intended for her), she destroys nothing.
I've learned that most people truly appreciate muddy footprints
on new garments.