Martin: Frasier, what happened to your jacket?
Frasier: Oh, at the airport, I helped this woman get a dog into her car.
Niles: Oh, I hope at least it was in a crate.
Frasier: Yes, a very heavy crate. I had to hold it at arm's length so that what I chose to believe was drool wouldn't run out onto my shoes. Eight blocks later, I finally load little Fido into her backseat and the woman drives off without so much as a "Thank you" or an offer to give me a ride back to the airport. Well, I responded with the time-honored gesture of disapproval, but on the upswing I caught my finger on the jacket.