Fred took life as it came, so naturally, when he met and married Milly, he chose a woman who was uptight about everything, whereas Fred could happily spend his life watching dust grow.
Milly, who had a low level of exasperation, would boss Fred around. He became so deaf to what she was saying to him that his habitual response was, "If you say so."
One Day Fred came home with a totally nondescript dog. Tan, the color of the entry-hall rug. Milly had a fit. She asked Fred what the dog's name was, and Fred said, "So."
Fred and So got along just fine. He'd take So on walks around town, earning himself a reputation as being an abrupt-speaking, old, oddball. Fred would plump himself down on some park bench and let So off his leash to wander as he saw fit. All of a sudden, Fred would yell out, "So, sit!" when he'd wandered off too far.
When Milly up and died, Fred took to going to the local where people understood him. They'd ask how So was, and Fred would say, "So's so-so." So would nod, and that's what I know about Fred and So.
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