Well, I want the baby to come out all cute and fat!

These are the ashes of my dead horse, Gaucho. I had him when I was a little girl.

Those aren't their names. Grand Pig has chickens. Wow.

Next we need a teaspoon of pepper, which, I believe, was also the name of your childhood dog.

What is it? We have a new pet. Can you guess what it is? Dine-saw? No. It's not a dinosaur. Come and see.

You think you are fearsome. Orc children have pets more fearsome than you.

You probably thinking I'm a real son of a bitch, who cares only about regulations and not his men. May I?

Now, have they decided to raise it Jewish or regular? Welcome to Texas. They haven't said.

And I think I've got it. You consider: a family possesses a dog that is so large and poorly disciplined, he causes nothing but problems.

Is that better? I don't know. It's worse. It's so much worse. You son of a...! I've about had it with you!

What's the matter, Auggie? Is no one believing that the little kid could possibly have an idea about how we could raise our older child?

Well, the cowboys are real, and they tend real cattle, but this is the modern-day prairie. Not a blade of grass in sight.

I favor widowed, given the number of cats you share your life with. Sherlock. Two Burmese and a Tortoiseshell, judging by the cat hairs on your cardigan.

And then somewhere along the line, four more sneak in, and you think, "We're good. We're cool. We're the cute girls with six cats."

Granny Pig and Grandpa Pig have a pet parrot. Peppa, George, this is our pet parrot. She's called Polly. Pretty Polly. Pretty Polly.