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Even I had to laugh at this point, and Harriet cracked a smile. Before long, we were a rollicking, frolicking foursome, the porch swing rocking to and fro as we slapped our thighs. Dooley might make a terrible cub scout, but I had to hand it to him: he did have a talent for making us laugh. And as a wise cat once said: laughter is the best medicine.

But the best part? No more good deeds from now on. Yesss!