Former boss Flo is sleeping in my guest room as I type this. Even if I had no foreknowledge of her stay, I could deduce her presence from the state of things downstairs. Everything I own is out of its place, if not actually on the floor. I know the dogs appreciated sleeping on my couch pillows and blanket. Me, not so much. What did she use ramekins for? The meat cleaver? My cigar lighter? Why is my dining room centerpiece in the kitchen? Why is there an X-Box controller in the bathroom?
Flo is a marvel. Were she a dog, she'd be the mutt who instantly empties any toy basket she sees, flinging balls and bones willy nilly into every crevice of the house.
"Were she a dog," nothing. I'm pretty sure she did this as a human.