I liked this piece from ESPN.com, especially this part:
"Reminds me of a story. Sometimes we bring home doggie bags for the Dooze. This one time, we brought her home a pork chop, which she picked up and slinked over to the living room, then dropped it on the ground. Then she kept glancing at the pork chop, then back at us. Really? This is for me? You serious? That's how I feel right now. Like Dooze staring at that pork chop. A World Series championship? Red Sox players celebrating? Really? For me?"