You know how sometimes you run into something in the world that means one thing to everyone else, and something completely different to furries?

Yeah, this was one of those times. The backstory is that my dad has taken up the cult of woodworking as a hobby. And I do mean cult. Suddenly he's immersed in a world of strange new terms. A biscuit to him is not a flaky food item that is delicious when covered in gravy or when sliced and used as bread for a breakfast sandwich. It's something you use when joining two pieces of wood together. Snipe is not either a real wading bird or a nonexistent bird used as part of a practical joke on novice hunters. It's an artifact from running a board through a planing machine. And so on.

So anyway, I was talking with him today. I was with  foxnight, but I stepped out of line of sight for a moment. He kept on talking to Foxnight. I was around the corner and I heard him announce that he was going to start "dog breeding" in the basement.

I held my breath and silently willed Fox to have the self control not to respond to that the way he would if I said it. There are some things you don't just casually say to foxes.

Fox later confessed to me that he was thinking it. He managed to keep from making that "baroo" noise, but he still did the tilted head gesture of curiosity. But my dad didn't really get the full implication of that body language.

Apparently what my dad meant is that he was going to start mass producing bench dogs, which are kind of like pegs you can put into holes in a workbench and use for clamping purposes. And yes, the holes you put them into are indeed called dog holes. It gets better, though, because he was going to mass produce the dogs through the use of a blank, a template that would guide the cutting of the wood. And that template would be called his "dog breeder".

Give me credit. I kept a straight face until Fox and I were out of earshot.