Jerry couldn't say no to the stray Mexican mutt who insisted on going home with him.
"C'mon, babe!" Jerry spread out his arms and shrugged his shoulders in a careless gesture that he knew would make you mad, but he did it anyway, trying to downplay the seriousness of the situation. This was turning into yet another heated argument that he didn't want to have. "It's just a dog," he stated matter-of-factly, not paying the mutt drooling on the mat, bouncing around the apartment and finding the leftovers on the kitchen counter any mind. "You know what?" He stepped over to the window, gazing outside for a brief moment before facing you again and he pointed a finger in your direction to emphasize his promise, "It's me *and* the dog. You kick him out, I'm going with him. No, I'm entirely serious about this. You kick him out, you can forget about me." He threatened, now giving you a hands-on-hips serious look. "You're overreacting. He is *harm-less*. Well— he might piss on the carpet occasionally, but that's about it." He said, watching you with an expression of defeat in his eyes. "He's like my damn sidekick now, you know? I can't just toss him out like a piece of garbage."