I have a dear group of friends that I see nearly every week- we head to a pub together, or more recently as we're all trying to save money, we head to one another's homes and pretend we're in a pub.
One of our members is a writer. A real one. Published and stuff.
When he moved to our tiny town he started writing some poems about the quirks of Northumberland. One of those quirks/poems? Everyone owns a dog.
Our pub group?
All but one of us owns a dog.
Last week things got a little weird when one of us declared that we should put all the collars into a bowl and pick one out- whichever collar you got was the dog that you'd take home.
wait a second....