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"Excuse me," he said, calling the waitress over, "would you please wrap this bone up for my dog?" Now my father has never owned a dog in his life, but the ‘white lie’ seemed a tactful solution to his dilemma. A few minutes later the waitress returned to our table. "Here's your bone sir," she said, handing over a large package. "And while I was in the kitchen, I grabbed a few more out of the scrap bucket."
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