The commercials featuring perfect dogs playing with perfect owners had stretched Doris’s patience to breaking point when a handsome man’s face suddenly filled the screen.

 

“Hi Doris. My name is Jacob. Sorry for the wait. What can Designer Doggies do for you today?” he said with a radiant smile.

 

Her anger declined a notch. The customer service android’s young, Scandinavian visage was designed specially to placate irate middle-aged woman like Doris.

 

“Roscoe, the dog you sold me, is defective,” she snapped.

 

Jacob silently analyzed the emotional profile of her voice as well as Doris’s demeanor and adjusted his response accordingly.

 

“I am so sorry to hear that,” he said, activating his empathy smile. “In what way?”

 

“This so-called premium breed of yours is supposed to have a vocabulary of at least 400 words. After more than six months the animal has barely mastered half that,” she complained, holding up a beringed hand in protest.

 

The android scanned her account internally. “I see you purchased a Pooger from us. That’s my personal favorite!” said Jacob in accordance with his customer response protocols. “Although one of our most intelligent models with superior learning skills, we recommend the Pooger’s learning capacity to be 200 to 400 words, Doris.”

 

“Nonsense!” she barked, sending shock waves through her ample double chin. “That is not what I was given to believe.”

 

“Your sales agent was Clint. He is very experienced, ma'am, one of our best,” replied the android.

 

“Well, he misrepresented the dog you sold me.”

 

“May I ask whether you are satisfied with the canine’s other specified attributes, ma’am, such as companionship, obedience, and sunny nature?”

 

“I suppose. But I was never thrilled with the color. Clashes with my new rugs. But I was willing to overlook that.”

 

“I see.”

 

“Now Myrtle is cock-a-hoop of course.”

 

“Myrtle?”

 

“My friend. She bought the same breed from you and the animal has learned more than 400 words. At this rate the mutt will soon be memorizing poetry,” moaned Doris. “The woman is insufferable!”

 

Jacob said he could not access Myrtle’s account without her permission, and asked if his customer knew exactly what breed her friend had purchased.

 

“I think she said a Retger,” Dori said.

 

“Ah! This could be the source of the confusion,” said Jacob.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

He explained that the Collpooretgerdob, or Retger, has a slightly different genetic makeup than the Collpoogerdob, or Pooger, the breed of genetically engineered dog Doris purchased.

 

“In addition to our proprietary blende of Collie, Poodle, German Shepherd and Doberman DNA, we splice a sequence of Retriever DNA into the Retger’s genetic mix. That little addition makes all the difference language-wise.”

 

“That is not what this Clint fellow told me,” sniffed Doris.

 

Jacob nodded sympathetically. “Perhaps there was a misunderstanding.”

 

“What are you going to do about it?”

 

Jacob flashed his best this-is-a-real-problem expression. “Unfortunately, your six-month grace period for returning the dog has expired, ma’am.”

 

“Yes, because I delayed bringing the wretched beast back to give its English tutor time to work with the animal. Needless to say, that proved futile. I am very upset,” she said, on the edge of crying.

 

There was an awkward silence. Jacob nodded sympathetically.

 

“I cannot bear Myrtle’s superior attitude any longer,” continued Doris and dabbed her eyes without smudging a thick layer of mascara.

 

“There is one possibility,” said Jacob in a conspiratorial tone. “We are planning to start waiting lists for our groundbreaking android dog this month.”

 

“The android! I read about that!” said Doris, suddenly brightening.

 

“It will take the canine companion world by storm!” effused Jacob.

 

“Tell me more, please.”

 

“The official spec has not been announced yet, but when it does …”

 

He went on to explain that the android pet would have a vocabulary of 1,000 words, with almost limitless potential for learning with future upgrades.

 

“I would not be surprised if the pooch was writing bestsellers in the not-too-distant future!” smiled Jacob.

 

The android animal would be programmed to walk itself while being tracked by its owner, and the top-of-line model will come with an option to change its behavior, said the customer service agent.

 

“You will even be able to change its color with some minor reprogramming!” added Jacob.

 

Doris stared at him agog. “Who can buy one?”

 

“Only premium customers such as yourself.”

 

She clapped exultantly.

 

“I can’t put you on a waiting list since they have not been released yet,” continued Jacob. “But I can include you on our interested customer list and you will be notified as soon as the opportunity to purchase comes available.”

 

“Yes! Yes, please put me on the list, Jacob!”

 

“Done,” he said. “I should mention that our android line will be significantly more expensive than our organic range of dogs.”

 

“Naturally,” she said.

 

“You will have to retain your current model for the time being. But when the android is available, there will be an option to make an exchange.”

 

“It will be more than worth the wait!”

 

“Yes, you will not be disappointed,” agreed Jacob.

 

“Oh-my-God. Myrtle will die!” laughed Doris.

 

“Is there anything else I can do for you at this time, ma’am?”

 

“No. And thank you, Jacob.”

 

“You are most welcome, Doris. And thank you for being a loyal customer of Designer Doggies. Have a tail-wagging rest of your day!”