Tuffy lay on his back in the cage, legs drawn up, tongue hanging out one side of his mouth. It looked like he'd vomited in one corner of the cage. "Does he do this often?" the big guy asked.
"Get drunk?" I asked as Charlie got down on her hands and knees, crawled into the cage and started scratching Tuffy's belly. "Yeah. We tried to get him into rehab, but he refused to go when he found out Lindsay Lohan was going to be his roommate."
He looked down at Charlie and Tuffy. "He couldn't walk a straight line when he was brought in."
I couldn't help laughing at that. "You gave a dog a sobriety test?"