Talking Dog Talent Scout

A talent agent was sitting in his high-rise office when a man walked in with a scruffy-looking Golden Retriever. "Look, I’m busy," the agent snapped. "Unless that dog can juggle chainsaws, I'm not interested."

The man smiled and nudged the dog. To the agent’s absolute horror and amazement, the dog cleared its throat and spoke in a deep, weary voice. "Well, sir, I’ve had quite a life. I served in the Coast Guard for six years, saved twelve people from a burning building in Chicago, and I’m currently finishing my third memoir on the socio-economics of the modern tennis ball."

The agent’s jaw hit the mahogany desk. He jumped up, clutching his chest. "This is incredible! He’s a gold mine! I can put him on every talk show in the country. Why on earth are you trying to sell him to me for only fifty dollars?"

The owner sighed, looked at the dog, and shook his head with a look of pure exhaustion. "Because," the man whispered, "he’s a pathological liar. He didn't save anyone in Chicago, and he can barely even read."