Most of the cats, dogs, ducks and bunnies had been adopted. No one seemed to want the poor wooly mammoth, so I took pity on the creature and brought him home. The first days were difficult. Mr. Fuzzy, yes I named him that, would destroy the neighborhood, squashing cars and eating expensive plants. After many months, I was able to train him and began taking him for long walks. Everyone waved hello to us and children would ride on top of him, some even hanging on to his tusks. Mr. Fuzzy and I became local celebrities. Folks would often stop to ask me what is the most difficult part owning a wooly mammoth. That’s easy, I would say, finding a super large poop bag.