Woody: 78, 79... If you keep moving around, Spotty, I'm not gonna be able to get an accurate count. 1, 2, 3, 4...
Rebecca: I guess you've given up on finding his owner, huh?
Woody: Well, why don't you want me to have this dog, Ms. Howe?
Rebecca: It's not that I don't want you to have the dog, Woody, it's just that I have this this thing about being completely honest when it comes to lost pets. Okay, when I was ten years old, I had this beautiful Persian cat named Princess. She only loved me. She didn't like anybody else in my family. One day I woke up, Princess was gone. My mom and dad said that she got out through the bedroom window. The weird thing is, I could have sworn that bedroom window was painted shut. It bothered me for years.
Frasier: Then as you matured, you came to accept the fact that it was your parents who, in fact, got rid of the cat.
Rebecca: What?! My Princess?! They took my Princess?!

Cliff: Hey, guys, guess what followed me home.
Carla: A slime trail?
Cliff: This cute little fellow right here. Huh? Isn't he sweet? The cutest little dog you've ever seen, huh?
Sam: What you gonna do with him, Cliff?
Cliff: Oh, l, I thought we'd just keep him in the bar here, Sam, you know, kind of like a bar mascot.
Norm: Guys, I kind of thought I was the bar mascot.

Frasier: Oh, boy, me and my big mouth. Why don't I just go down to the park and tell the little kids about Santa Claus?
Woody: What about Santa?